I came across a "German Newspaper Front Pages" application on Facebook. I thought it went well with this blog. Its description tells us:
This application shows a random front page of one of today's German newspapers.
Slight problem: I added it, and the page it shows on my profile reads "'Great Communicator' dies" – the headline after Ronald Reagan's death in, erm, The Sun in the USA. Mistake, surely?Add the application here.
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A book review by Christopher Perfect The obituary pages of a newspaper do not immediately strike one as the richest resource for a life-affirming celebration of the journalists’ art. On picking up Marilyn Johnson’s book, you may be taken aback by the blurb, which describes her quest to ‘search for the best bits in the English language and to seek out those writers who spend their lives writing about the recently dead’. However, despite the odd, bordering on the morbid nature of the subject, Johnson’s book is a fascinating look at an aspect of journalism which, to say the least, is unlikely to leap to mind when an average Oxford undergraduate begins to consider their future career.One aspect of the obituary writers’ task which Johnson brings out superbly is the alternating rhythm of the job. We are all aware, for example, that the obituaries of the great, the good, the notorious and the disgraced are filed neatly away in every newspaper’s archives, waiting, as it were, for the appropriate bell to toll. But what do you do when, as in one case detailed by Johnson, a journalist, famous in the 70s, but mostly forgotten, suddenly commits suicide in the middle of a 3-day snowstorm and the only available writers are too young to know anything about his life? The chapter on the sudden pressure on the New York obituary writers after 9/11 is similarly revealing.A self-confessed obituary obsessive, (and that’s quite a confession to make, after all) Johnson is expert at bringing out the characters of the men and women (mostly men, it has to be said) she meets. As you might expect, the task of writing entirely about the dead affects those who have to do it; the life of one man who combined his work as an obituary writer with a job in counter-intelligence is just one of many striking individual stories which Johnson has discovered. Whether, as she claims, many newspaper readers go straight to the obituary pages of their daily newspaper rather than the news or the sport, or whether that is simply her own way of admitting to a rather idiosyncratic hobby, is less relevant than her ability to bring out interest and entertainment in a variety of journalism that will be unfamiliar to many of her readers.
The good news: We beat Germany, and it wasn't even in a war.
The bad news: It wasn't a penalty shootout either. It was a sleaze contest.
It doesn't take much to gather that from the exhibition of post-war scandals opening at the Museum of German History in Bonn tomorrow. The curators have managed to identify 20 scandals to rock the Federal Republic since 1945, and frankly it's a poor showing.20? From 62 years? We've had enough in just 10 years for bloggers Iain Dale and Guido Fawkes to compile both The Little Red Book of New Labour Sleaze and The Big Red Book of New Labour Sleaze (Dale kindly gave us this huge list too), and Major's Tories were more scandalous than a Union tribunal between Harriet Harman and a teddy bear called Mohammed.So they really shouldn't be satisfied with just 20. Am I the only one thinking Germany's a boring place to be?
Photo: Der Spiegel exposes Germany's 1971 match-fixing scandal. Reproduced under conditions specified by Stiftung Haus der Geschichte der Bundesrepublik Deutschland
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UPDATED Thursday 6th December
A report issued by the tribunal investigating last term’s Union Presidential election is highly critical of key figures involved in the allegations, Cherwell24 has learned.
Disqualified candidate, Krishna Omkar, is reprimanded in the report for showing a “disturbing arrogance” towards the rules of the Union and the tribunal. In particular, Omkar is alleged to have intimidated a key witness from giving evidence at the tribunal.
The witness, a senior figure at the Oxford Student, was said to appear “intimidated and upset” while giving her evidence, and produced a text message from Omkar that appeared to corroborate her claims.
The electoral malpractice charges against Krishna centre on a meeting held at Magdalen College the evening before the election, which was supposedly a ‘slate party’. Krishna and his associates are alleged to have been ‘lining’, a practice whereby candidates encourage members to vote for a string of other candidates, all of whom attract votes for one another.
Alex Priest, Returning Officer of the Union, said, “I am aware that in the past there have been slates but they're bad for the Union because they mean the wealthy and the popular but not necessarily hard-working get ahead…They're inherently unfair." When approached, Krishna declined to comment due to Union regulations.
The panel of three who authored the report also state their ‘dismay’ that outgoing Union President Luke Tryl and “at least one Deputy Returning Officer” were present at the ‘slate’ meeting, when their positions “demanded the discouraging of electoral malpractice.”
Several other members came under fire for displaying “a startling lack of integrity”, for seeking to disrupt the tribunal proceedings, and the panel lambaste what they see as a “culture of arrogance” where “overt and complacent disregard for the Rules is tolerated.”
Under the tribunal ruling, Krishna Omkar is disqualified from standing in a re-run of the polls next term, although it is suggested that Charlotte Fischer, another Presidential candidate who brought the original complaints, will not seek to stand either.
UPDATE: Krishna Omkar today lodged a formal appeal against the tribunal's ruling. Union Returning Officer Alex Priest told Cherwell24 that "Mr Omkar has lodged an appeal on the grounds of Rule 33(d)(i) (1), (2), and (3)."
These relate to: breach of tribunal procedures as outlined in the rules, that the decision of the tribunal was founded on an error of law, and that there has been a breach of any of the Principles of Natural Justice. Further details of Omkar's claims based on these grounds are not known.
It is not yet known when the hearing will take place. However, the Appellate Board must report back within 28 days of Notice of Appeal.
The Appellate Board is convened by the Returning Officer under the instructions of the Senior Officers of the Union, and consists of three members of Convocation, which is the body formed by all graduates of the University.
Check back to Cherwell24 for more coverage as events unfold.
Additional reporting, Laura Pitel
Pictures from the protests outside the Oxford Union debate, Monday 26th November: Send us yours! [email protected]
You don’t need to know German to get this. I’ve already complained about the blogs on N24 before, but here’s a new irritation. Michaela May, who styles herself as Chief Political Correspondent of the 24-hour news channel, regularly updates hers (one thing to her credit). Slight problem though: it’s not really a political blog – I’d describe it more as a few pieces of babbling small talk. Let me show you a typical example; here’s part of an eight year old's text message today’s post:
Gestern hab´ich Ihnen ja schon berichtet, dass ein Kollege der Zeitschrift Insight da war, um über uns zu schreiben. Das Portrait soll im Januar erscheinen. Gleichzeitig "zünden" wir in dieser Woche eine weitere Stufe in unserer Öffentlichkeitsarbeit: Es wird eine N24-Pressemitteilung geben, in der wir unser Projekt "BlogTVnachgefragt" vorstellen! Wir sind damit einzigartig im Netz und das muß ja auch mal gesagt werden :-)!!
A bit more:
Damals stand man noch auf, wenn der Lehrer in die Klasse kam. Es wurde viel auswendig gelernt, einen eintrag in´s Klassenbuch nahm man noch ernst…Gute alte Zeit?????? 😉 Bis später!
Now, as i said, you don’t need to understand any German to see what I’m getting at. Looking through the post, I have found:
– one spelling mistake
– twelve exclamation marks
– three examples of more than one exclamation mark together, just like you’d do in a creative writing task at primary school
– one instance of six question marks in a row, rather like a Facebook wall post
– one smiley face
– two smiley winks
This woman claims to be one of the leading political journalists in the country — Germany’s Adam Boulton, if you like. Well, could you imagine Nick Robinson littering his blog with smileys, winks and babble? I suspect not. How can we respect a news channel with a Chief Political Correspondent who behaves like this?
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Following a tribunal concerning the result of Michaelmas term's Union elections Krishna Omkar's Presidency was overturned on Sunday night.
In an official statement, the Returning Officer Alex Priest said, 'An election tribunal has found a body of evidence large enough to find Krisha Omkar guilty of breaching rule 33 on electoral malpractice and has therefore disqualified him from this election and all future elections.
'Rule 33 is an important rule which enshrines fairness and equality and ensures a level playing field in the Union’s elections.' The rule is seven pages long and deals with soliciting of votes.
This is only the second time in history that a Presidency has been overturned, and the first time ever that the candidate in question has been banned from running again.
The complaint was filed by Charlotte Fischer, who ran for President against Omkar. The tribunal that hears allegations of electoral malpractice is composed of people who have been Union members for at least six years. Additionally, one tribunal member is always a qualified lawyer.
There will be a re-poll for the position of President at the start of next term. It is being reported that Fischer will not be a candidate in any re-poll that takes place. It is also being reported that there may be an appeal against the tribunal's decision.
A full official report was released yesterday, condemning a 'culture of arrogance' within the Union.
Michaelmas officially ends at midnight tonight, so I thought I should finish the term with a piece of good news featured in Die Welt. World-famous polar bear, Knut, is celebrating his first birthday on Wednesday – a year after zoo staff had to bring him up themselves after he was rejected by his mother in the Zoological Gardens in Berlin. After animal rights activists’ calls for the cub to be killed (opposition to the bear being raised by humans… so the solution is to kill it, right?), the zoological fiasco travelled round the world and featured prominently in the foreign press eager to fill those Easter-time gaps. Knut survived the whole caboodle of life-threatening challenges, and I guess it’s now time to celebrate. A wonderful achievement!…by the PR department of Berlin Zoo.
I will be continuing to blog here over the Christmas vacation, but I should just say thank you to Cherwell24 editors Leah Klement and Fiona Wilson for maintaining a brilliant site this term and putting up with my insane desire to post more frequently than Guido Fawkes with Tourette's. And good luck too to the new editor, Selena Wisnom, in her quest to retain this standard. Have a great vacation!
UPDATE: The BBC had this tale on their front page on Wednesday night. You can even see Knut in action here.
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I like Belgium and I like Belgians. Not like-like, I mean, I don’t love any of them, but they are genuinely nice people, and genuinely welcoming too. For example, I have just come back from taking my boots to the cobbler. I used to take them to Bob the Cobbler on Turl Street and he’d spend his time mending them once ever three weeks. This time, I took this pair of boots to the cobbler’s and he inspected them then said,
'Amen, ils sont mort.'
Then he giggled. He just wants to mend my boots, and he sees he cannot.
And then the other day I went into a church and this old lady gave me a guided tour, and she knew tons of things about each detail of the baptismal bucket (one of the seven wonders of Wallonia, the Walloons are wonderful), and was happy to tell me about them. She kept waving her hand around it, setting off the alarm.
My mum came to drop some stuff off for me, and though she means well she is not a directly amicable person. Nevertheless she gets herself invited to a dinner at one of the other teacher’s houses with me, she sits there, supercilious, but these are genuine people she has in front of her, and genuinely nice.
That’s why I felt so bad about my discourse on the fun fair incidents. The girls I went with are genuine and friendly people, and really open, and as hard as I try to be the cynical distanced intruder, I’ve given up.
May I? May I quote Gatsby? “Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope.”
That doesn’t mean I’ve given up the blogging, it simply means I’m a little more – integrated.
May I? “I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler.”
By Hannah Nepil
It is unfortunate that the most antagonistic of questions are amongst the most frequently asked.
Given the long list of tacit diplomatic no-nos which overshadow every social situation, you might have expected that the dreaded question “what’s next?” would have been outlawed long ago. But, to speak for embittered post-finalists everywhere, I can tell you it definitely hasn’t. Instead, it is assumed that the status of recent graduate lends itself to a little amicable interrogation, and we are again and again called upon to air our dirty laundry in public, to answer that question, and to justify our existence.
The intensity of the anguish triggered by this line of questioning is directly proportional to the amount of time we have spent dwelling on the matter ourselves. Those whose chosen career or further study path seems, not only to have been mapped out for them, but to clarify their entire previous existence, are able to sidestep the angst. On the other hand, those who find decision-making a source of trauma are landed, ironically, with a seemingly infinite collection of choices. Suddenly they are confronted with something that their comfortable sail through the education system has left them unprepared for.
It is these types who fall prey to the seduction of the ‘Random Job’, which can hold them captive for several years before they finally come to their senses. To this they can be spectacularly unsuited, as one graduate testifies, who spent her first year out of university as a pathologically squeamish anaesthetist. Luckily for her, however, she managed to exercise mind over matter by averting her gaze as she injected the fluid. “Did the patients never notice?” I asked. “I don't think so,” she answered thoughtfully, “they never said anything.”
For many, the heartless ejection from the education system triggers the instinct to grip for dear life to the umbilical chord, inducing a bee-line for postgraduate study of even the obscurest denomination. Happily there are plenty of courses which cater for this particular existential crisis. Between an MA in Adventure Tourism Management from Birmingham College of Food, Tourism and Creative Studies and the Msc in Playstation Studies from Sheffield Hallam University, we are spoilt for choice.
Others prefer to define a lack of direction in more straightforward terms, under the all-embracing umbrella term, “Nothing”.
“What do you mean, ‘Nothing’? How can you do ‘Nothing’?” I asked my friend incredulously.
“I mean, Nothing. I'm not working. I'm not studying. It's exhausting. I'm getting very into my daytime TV and I find there just aren't enough hours in a day” and he smirked, presumably at his own dazzling wit.
I could have asked how he was funding his “Nothing”, but given my stance on my student loan – “It's like monopoly money” – that had carried me through my three years as a student to Italy, Spain, China, New York and back, I did not want to risk sounding hypocritical. This attitude, I found, would come back to haunt me as I approached the close of my third year, forcing me to call my bank and attempt a negotiation of my overdraft. “What do you need it for?” I was asked by a frankly hostile third party.
“Oh, you know, my day-to-day living necessities”, I answered, struggling to annunciate my words through my Pret salad.
Surprisingly, I was unsuccessful and it was under dire financial straits that I decided to face up to my responsibility as a fully functional adult, giving up my place for a Masters and procuring for myself a job in an Estate Agents. When, two days in, I was turfed out, due to general ineptitude, until further notice, I rationalised away the shame.
Well. I didn't need them. I had a degree in Music, so I was bloody well going to use it. The next day I went busking, setting up camp outside the French Institute, round the corner from the infamous Estate Agents. For a couple of hours I regaled the hapless passers by with endless renditions of the French National Anthem, hoping to capitalise on the location. It was only when a fuming optician and two sheepish youths sporting orange City Council T-shirts sidled up that I realised that the game was over: An acknowledgement I was forced to revisit on my humble re-admittance to John D. Wood and co. where I found the following email in the collective junk inbox,
“Further to getting the boot, Hannah can be found “busking” outside the French Institute”.
The real world could wait. My masters course was beckoning, and with no more affectations of resistance, I followed.
