Monday, May 5, 2025
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Less than one third of Oxford colleges signed up to pay staff living wage

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Colleges have been urged to show a “moral commitment” to the living wage after figures revealed that less than one-third are accredited living wage employers.

Only eleven of Oxford’s 38 colleges are currently signed up to the living wage, despite recent encouragement from the county council to help staff “live with dignity.”

Christ Church, Hertford, Mansfield, Merton, Oriel, Queen’s, Somerville, St Cross, St Hilda’s, University, and Wadham are the only colleges signed up to the Living Wage Foundation scheme.

The University itself has been paying all staff the living wage – which is set to rise from £8.45 to £8.75 in 2018 – since April 2015.

City council leader Bob Price urged Oxford colleges to apply for formal living wage accreditation. He said: “They may not think the accreditation is important but it shows a moral commitment to continue to pay staff the living wage in the longer term.

“It would also give more weight to the scheme: the more businesses and institutions that can join will encourage others.”

“We have been very pleased with the businesses involved so far and Oxford came out quite well in a recent survey of workers – but we want to push it even further.”

The comments come shortly after the Oxfordshire County Council claimed it could not afford to pay staff the Oxford living wage, which currently stands at £9.26 an hour.

Meanwhile, the city council announced that it would increase that figure to £9.69 in April 2018.

“Oxford is the least affordable city for housing in the UK,” the city council said.

“House prices in the city are more than 16 times average earnings. 30% of the city’s population lives in private-rented housing. The council believes that the high cost of living in Oxford means the living wage is essential to help employees live with dignity.”

However, colleges have defended themselves against the council’s criticisms.

In a statement, Corpus Christi College said: “College fellows, as trustees, review the remuneration of all staff taking into consideration hourly pay rates and a range of other significant benefits and conditions of service such as holiday and meals entitlement… and security of tenure.

“It is our belief that a comprehensive approach to the evaluation of remuneration provides an inherently fairer and more reliable measure of the high esteem in which we hold our staff.”

Green Templeton College said that while around twenty employees doing “casual bar work” were paid less than the living wage, the rest of its staff were.

Several colleges – including Magdalen, Jesus and Worcester – claim to pay their staff the living wage, but have not sought accreditation.

Furthermore, Kellogg College’s staff are directly employed by the University, and as a result, the graduate college considers itself to be indirectly accredited.

“There is a social expectation that men should just ‘deal with it’”

Every 60 seconds, a man weighs his problems against his life, and chooses to forfeit the latter. Many people are blind to the horrific reality of men’s mental health problems. Something has to change, and that’s what the Movember Foundation is working towards.

I have suffered my own demons with mental health and continue to work through those issues today. At points, it has taken me to some very dark places. Juggling depression, social anxiety and low self-esteem with a challenging workload, I often choose to mask my feelings rather than share them with others. I have felt that a problem shared, far from a problem halved, is a problem multiplied into a burden on my friends and family.

Movember always strikes a chord with me because it highlights the social expectation that men should just ‘deal with it’ when it comes to problems, big or small. Although this idea is gradually being eroded, it is ingrained in our generation. Young men continue to grow up feeling as though being the man of the house or thick-skinned is imperative to their identity. I was 16 when my dad passed away, and I felt responsible for holding our house together: I thought I had to become the man of the house, that the best way forward was to tough it out, so that my mum would have one less thing to worry about, and so that I could do Dad proud by passing my exams.

In some respects, that was true: there were new responsibilities that I needed to take on, and immediate challenges to face. In other respects, it left an immeasurable hole where my memories of Dad, and the grief of losing him, should have been. While the Movember Foundation cannot deal with all these issues, it does provide support to men across the globe who are facing a similar predicament.

The Movember Foundation works to improve the terrifying figures regarding men’s health. Three in four suicides are committed by men, making it the single biggest killer of men under 45 in the UK. Every 45 minutes a man dies from prostate cancer. If detected early, there is a 98% chance of survival beyond five years, falling to 26% if left too late. Testicular cancer, which is also prioritised by the Foundation, is the most common cancer in men under 40. Though there is a 95% chance of survival upon detection, this is no comfort to the one man in 20 who won’t make it.

The Movember Foundation is rallying to raise awareness of these staggering statistics. They foster international collaborations to advocate men’s health initiatives and build evidence to support them. Operating as an independent global men’s charity since 2003, the foundation also combats traditional notions of masculinity to improve male wellbeing. They dedicate each November to the campaign, mobilising the community of ‘MoBros’ and ‘MoSistas’ to raise funds and awareness for men’s health. With the goal to stop men dying too young, the charity prioritises the aforementioned core issues: prostate cancer, testicular cancer and poor mental health.

Not just confined to November, the foundation works year round in 21 countries to change the way that we think and act on men’s health, while investing to improve health services and systems provided to men. There is a profound lack of awareness and understanding regarding the prevalence of poor health in men, with stigma enshrouding this issue in silence. Due to the widespread conception of masculinity as ‘strong and stoic’, it is well evidenced that men are reluctant to discuss openly or take action on health issues despite the clear need to do so.

The Samaritans define masculinity as “the way men are brought up to behave and the roles, attributes and behaviours that society expects of them.” This notion ought to accept that men can feel overwhelmed or sad without compromising their masculinity.

With Movember’s arrival in Oxford, we have organised a number of events to fundraise for this fantastic cause. While many will grow a ’tache for charity this month, others filled our Frat Party club night at Fever. On 19 November, teams from each college will compete in the inaugural Movember Barber Shop Relay race, while our rowing community has begun setting sponsored sprint times for ‘Rowvember’.

The Movember movement has reminded me that I am not alone, and that my problems do matter. More than just raising money for men’s health, the foundation offers practical advice on its website, as well as growing new initiatives to make men feel safe to speak about their feelings. I am all for that, and while I have a way to go myself, I will advocate the cause as much as I am in need of it. We ought to acknowledge that men face different barriers with regards to health, which the Movember Foundation is working to identify and break down. By improving the general wellbeing of men we can help them to live happier, healthier and longer lives. Join us – together, we can stop men dying too young.

Julien Baker ‘Turn out the lights’ review – rawness and painstaking detail

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Julien Baker’s self-proclaimed “overture” for Turn Out the Lights, titled ‘Over’, shifts between major and minor keys, setting the scene for the next 40 minutes. It’s a beautiful exploration of the highs and lows that define her relationships: with loved ones, her faith, and her own mental health. The album’s narrative, almost entirely autobiographical, exposes us to the harshest realities of living with anxiety and depression but introduces Baker’s newfound optimism that such burdens don’t necessarily eliminate all joy.

It’s been two years since Baker’s first album Sprained Ankle was released, and whilst the production has got slicker and the backing more embellished, with string and woodwind accompaniments present on over half of the eleven tracks, the influence of Sprained Ankle’s success hasn’t detracted from the rawness and painstaking detail of Turn Out the Lights. Standout tracks ‘Appointments’ and ‘Televangelist’ highlight Baker’s unique clarity and really bring us to the heart of what it is to live life with mental health issues. Lines flow into each other, both musically and lyrically, alluding to a manic fluidity of her thoughts, yet they’re contained within an exquisitely peaceful sonic arena of melodic piano/guitar and sweeping vocals.

Throughout the album, we see Baker struggling to reconcile turbulent opposites. On the brooding ‘Sour Breath’ we hear the repeating observation “the harder I swim, the faster I sink” and in ‘Shadowboxing’ we’re told “You’re everything I want, and I’m all that you dread” all of which echo her attempts to reconcile her mental health issues with her ability to be happy. However, in the album’s tremendous finale, ‘Claws in Your Back’, Baker proclaims, “I think I can love the sickness you made, I want it to stay” – a heartfelt statement about the peace she has now found.

Sowing the seeds for the Eastern bloc’s sexual revolution

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When you think of the Russian Revolutions of 1917, you think of the overthrow of the monarchy and the clash of the Reds and the Whites. What doesn’t usually come to mind though, is that it was also a time of cultural and sexual revolution: rebels sought to liberate themselves from the social norms of a Russia perceived as ‘dark’, ‘backwards’, and even ‘evil’.

Putting aside the array of conspicuous male revolutionaries, one woman was instrumental in pushing forth this cultural revolution: Alexandra Kollontai. Kollontai was a prominent Bolshevik, and founded the Party’s women’s department, the Zhenotdel, in 1919. Her writings and political activities encouraged women to break free from the archaic Tsarist patriarchy, and to take on their roles as equals in a new society instead.

With regards to eradicating traditional social structures, Kollontai and her associates wanted to bring about a total rejection of the conventional bourgeois family: they heavily advocated for the alteration of divorce and abortion laws, in order to release women from tyrannical husbands and antiquated family values.

On a more radical level, the ‘scandalous’ side of Kollontai’s social and political beliefs can be seen in her campaigning for the sexual emancipation of women. In her works, Kollontai wrote about women who explored their sexuality in a way that was typically only afforded to men. She propagated the idea of ‘free love’, and sought to normalise erotic friendships as a way for both men and women to fulfil their bodily needs without feeling shame for straying from the generally accepted norm of monogamy.

Above all, she called for a novel approach to sexuality that did not put women in a position of exploitation and weakness – but instead saw sex as a natural interaction between two equals that fulfilled a basic human need.

Kollontai’s 1921 piece, ‘Sexual Relations and the Class Struggle’, is a prime template for this school of social thought. In the article, Kollontai sees interactions between the sexes as constituting a significant dilemma at the centre of the new society.

A dilemma of a magnitude previously unseen in this realm of social interaction. She describes the phenomenon of sexuality as a “vicious circle” that nobody can break out of, and argues that the only way to live with this inevitable conflict is to consolidate “more healthy and more joyful relationships between the sexes”.

Through her writing, Kollontai brings issues previously seen as matters of the private sphere into the public sphere. In doing so, she normalised the open discussion of typically taboo subjects. By being unashamed and unapologetic, Kollontai broke barriers and sowed the seeds of a revolution that would only truly bloom in the West in the late 1960s.

Yet Kollontai’s sole focus wasn’t sex. She also aimed to free women from emotional abuse, and propagated the importance of a woman’s self-worth. In her 1918 article, ‘New Woman’ (from her book The New Morality and the Working Class), Kollontai asserts that “dominance of feeling was the most typical trait peculiar to the woman of the past”. According to Kollontai, this dominance of feeling was a woman’s downfall: she alludes to the fictional womaniser Don Juan when stating that men often “not only… [took] a woman’s body, but they also ruled her soul”.

Kollontai laments how infidelity, alongside a lack of respect for women on the part of their husbands, was somewhat justified by material gifts – like flowers and jewellery. According to the revolutionary, centuries of this behaviour resulted in a woman “[orienting] her conception of happiness on the gratification of the external”. Though this should not be the case, she argues, as a woman’s ego should be just as respected as her husband’s. The idea of a woman not only “seeking” but demanding “esteem for her personality” presents a boldness previously unseen in the traditional obedient wife. As such, this marked a fervent push towards equality and respect for all – not just the working class man.

It is humorous to note that Kollontai’s vocal condemnation of the typical arsehole – and her consequent ‘call to arms’ for women to stand up for themselves – is not unlike the feminist, anti-fuckboy movement of today.

In her own way, Kollontai set the precedent for the modern-day independent woman. American novelist Alice Walker once said that “the most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any”.

Just short of a century earlier, Kollontai’s lengthy texts promoted this same idea – an idea that has inspired generations of women to find their voice, claim their power, and fight for the respect that they deserve.

As is evident, Kollontai was ahead of her time. Her theories preceded the sexual revolution of the 1970s that normalised ‘free love’, and it is remarkable that so early in the 20th century, her eccentric and feminist ideas – which she very publicly voiced – were not condemned, but celebrated. She was not shamed for her outspokenness, openness about sexuality, and close friendships with men in her party.

On the contrary, her candour made her a Bolshevik icon, and she symbolically rose in political station to eventually be awarded the position of first female ambassador to Norway.

Despite her profound social and cultural impact, Kollontai was kept away from central party politics and instead given diplomatic roles, indicating that female emancipation was far from complete.

Yet even considering this moderate political success within the Party itself, there is something incredibly powerful about Kollontai’s shamelessness, her revolutionary zest, and her determination to see the start of a new social order that did not solely satisfy the ego of working class men.

Somehow, by using her sharp tongue and no bullshit attitude, she managed to navigate an early 20th century sociopolitical system that was entirely dominated by men.

She was a significant force in publicly demolishing centuriesold social and cultural boundaries, and she performed the literary equivalent of raising a skirt above her knees as a metaphorical fist to archaic attitudes.

Kollontai had no time for the glorification of the pining, obedient, and demure heroine that needed to be swept off her feet by a gallant man.

Rather, she believed women of the revolutionary era had a greater purpose than that: they were capable of so much more than what novels and the society of the past restricted them to.

This attitude is summarised in one of her most famous quotations: “I’ve read enough novels to know just how much time and energy it takes to fall in love and I just don’t have the time.”

In a few short words, Kollontai demonstrated her refusal to believe that a man’s love and his good opinion are needed to define a woman’s self worth.

Ironically, this message is still prevalent in the modern day, revealing how our world – and the struggle of the sexes – is not so different from that of Kollontai and the revolutionaries of 1917.

Confessions of a Drama Queen 5: Things can only get better

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Finally, the god of the arts has staged a divine intervention in my favour! After five long weeks of suffering, it seems that things are actually looking up for my university drama career.

This unexpected miracle occurred completely randomly. I was contentedly strolling down Cornmarket Street, holding my Pret like any middle-class humanities student at this university, when lo and behold, I was stopped by an agent!

Naturally, I always knew I would be model-scouted one day, but I hadn’t anticipated it being at 9.30am on a Tuesday, while I was wearing only leggings and a Law Society hoodie. I have never actually been to any Law Society events, and have no interest in law, but I want people to think I’m studious and intellectual. Apparently, LinkedIn is the new Match.com.

Anyway, the casting agent said she had spied my face across the crowd, and realised in that very second that mine was exactly the kind of visage she was looking to cast in her upcoming production of a musical. It’s called like, The Horror Shop or something, I hadn’t heard of it. Apparently, I have the perfect looks and physicality for this character called “Audrey II”? I asked her a bit about my character, what she looked like, what her motivation was etc, and I thought she said the word “triffid”, but I must have misheard her. It must have been “terrific.”

She’s said rehearsals are to begin next Saturday, and has asked me to dress all in green. I can’t think why. I’ve also just realised that she’s not actually sent me a script yet, but I’m sure it will be fine – I’m certain my character will have lines, and lots of them.

I will let you know in due course how I fare with my big break. Adieu, fair reader!

Revolutionary artists: from creatives to criminals

Red October transfigured Russian literature, life and art, with the avant garde movement reaching its creative and popular climax between 1917 and 1932. This outflux of creativity was then superseded by the state sponsored aesthetic of Socialist Realism. Although the era undoubtedly generated some of the most powerful art of the 20th century, it equally precipitated one of the bloodiest chapters in the nation’s cultural history.

After the Bolsheviks assumed control artists, composers, and writers alike were caught up in a revolutionary current that swept the nation. Believing that art could have a purpose beyond itself, that it could in fact help restructure the entire country, a new generation of artists flourished and begun to deconstruct and reconfigure the very fundamentals of artistic endeavour in a bid to discover what form a new ‘people’s’ art should take. Mayakovsky shouted: “the streets shall be our brushes, and the squares our palettes”, proposing that art was for the people, made by those with new and electrifying ideas.

As visceral changes transpired across Russia, art was radically changed, seeing the emergence of Suprematist, Futurist, and Constructivist movements. These were led by a cluster of artists such as Kandinsky, Malevich, and Lissitsky, who would revolutionise art in the same way Russia itself was being revolutionised.

Celebrated artists gave birth to artistic spheres that claimed to express a utopian vision of a revolutionary future. For Kandinsky, art became a spiritual communion with music. For constructivists, it encompassed the dynamism of modern life with its “new and disorientating qualities of space and time”. For Malevich, it emblematised “the supremacy of pure feeling”. His Black Square, the first piece to be totally devoid of any relationship to real life, was truly unnerving, taking art to a new plane of abstract, geometric discourse that could speak universally to the people.

In the wake of the October revolution, agitprop came to wave a red banner on behalf of communism. In his Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge, we see Lissitsky at the forefront of propagandistic art, where stark colours and shapes assume symbolic significance. In a geometric battle, a red triangle pierces a white curve in a demonstration of Red supremacy over the White army. The colour red also points to a bloodstained campaign that cannot be ignored when we evaluate Russian works with contemporary eyes.

From 1932, things would deteriorate in the Russian world of art. The Soviet state now decreed that art must depict man’s struggle for socialist progress. The creative artist must serve the proletariat by being realistic, hopeful, and epic. Pioneering ideals of abstract purity from the avant-garde were now confined to ‘accurate’ portrayals of the worker in all his glory. Viktor Shklovsky lamented that, “Art must move organically, like the heart in the human breast; but they want to regulate it like a train”.

The revolution that promised the avant-garde an imminent new world not only shackled their creative imagination but actually incarcerated them in gulags, seeing them as an ‘appendage’ that had had its use. Their ‘crimes’ were artistic, their work obsolete.

In the 21st century we can look at each of these movements in relation to the period in which they were born. Johnathon Jones condemns retrospective celebrators of revolutionary works for their tendency to overlook the art’s proximity to an emerging regime, patterned by brutality and violence. For him, exhibitions like that at the Royal Academy are essentially guilty of nostalgia for a proletarian utopia that never existed.

Kandinsky himself famously argued that “every work of art is the child of its age. It follows that each period of culture produces an art of its own which can never be repeated”.

In his assertion we can see that revolutionary art can never be extricated from the period in which it was created. While the roots and uses of these pieces are a cause for concern, their own innovative force and haunting abstract nature cannot be denied, nor can their transformative and irreversible effect on the world of art.

“A Mythical Future”: Katya Rogatchevskaia on the Russian Revolution

People won’t tolerate stagnation, economic, political, or social,” Katya Rogatchevskaia emphasises to me over the phone, “the [tsarist] regime in Russia was unable to reform, it was stiff and stable – this we need to remember.”

She’s an enthusiast, an academic still ardent about her field. Rogatchevskaia is the Lead Curator at the Eastern European Collections of the British Library, and the driving force behind the critically acclaimed exhibition Russian Revolution: Hope, Tragedy, Myths (which was on from 28th April to 29th August 2017 at the British Library), which marked the centenary of one of the most momentous years in world history.

Behind the scenes, she says, “There was a lot of discussion about how we should describe it, and we decided on ‘marking’ the Russian Revolution—definitely not a celebration. I wanted to be objective about the facts and people’s experiences.” Rogatchevskaia didn’t want to be trapped by the ideologically-weighted conclusions often drawn around the events of 1917, and instead return to a level of historical rigor often missing from discussions about the Revolution.

Both exhibition and centenary arrive at just the right time – as Sheila Fitzpatrick wrote in the London Review of Books earlier this year, “In purely scholarly terms, the 1917 revolution has been on the back burner for some decades now, after the excitement of the Cold War-fuelled arguments of the 1970s.”

If we’ve moved beyond the heady rhetoric of Capitalism versus Communism, then it seems a ripe moment to re-evaluate the Revolution. For Rogatchevskaia, there are clear lessons to be drawn for the present: “the Russian Revolution and [subsequent] civil war shows that politicians should have a very clear message of the future. You can’t keep the status quo, as the White [Russians] wanted.

“The Bolsheviks showed the future and won. It was a mythical future, but it still won out.”

Dr. Rogatchevskaia, who studied Russian literature before joining the British Library, notes that “I wanted to show the emotional effects of the revolution and civil war,” with the Library’s holdings in photographs, posters, books, and maps, recreated the material qualities of the era.

She reflects that amongst all the exhibition’s items, two of her favourites were “the tribute book to Lenin, [where] every single ribbon from his funeral procession was documented. It was the first luxury Soviet book,” and “the Who’s Who in the Revolution,” published in England for British and American audiences confused by the rapidly changing governments after the fall of Tsar Nicholas II.

The exhibition’s strong visual design, with dark red curtains, chandeliers, and reproductions of photographs on metal plates suspended above display cases, was created by the design company Hara Clark.

Rogatchevskaia confesses with laughter that “I’m not a visual person! But when we first saw their idea, my team immediately loved it.” The subdued lighting created an intimate atmosphere, compelling visitors to take their time over the exhibits. “People are quiet in the exhibition, they read the labels. Some people spend two hours!”

Rogatchevskaia is motivated by a desire to enlighten a public unaware of the true scale and impact of the Revolution: “visitors were surprised by the amount of devastation caused [it]. Many people now see the threat of revolution to Britain and the British involvement in the civil war; it comes as a surprise. Many of my colleagues were surprised by the extent of the British involvement.” The Revolution was far from exclusively Russian: from Japan to the United States, the rest of the world became rapidly embroiled, trying to undermine the Bolsheviks.

However, this lack of historical awareness runs both ways. “Being Russian myself, I didn’t know much about World War One myself,” she says, “as the Russian Revolution overshadowed it as trauma and because of the Communist [Party] narrative.” She points to the current absence of discussion of Russia’s role on the eastern front during the First World War as another side of the story “talked very little about.”

Rogatchevskaia though, is especially interested in the links between Britain and the Revolution, pointing out that Marx and Lenin were readers at the British Library, which later became a centre of Russian émigrés who had escaped from the civil war during the 1920s. “[It] was a literary hub, people came to learn, they were intellectuals…Some of the Russian exile families were close to the families who operated the British Museum. They suggested what books to buy—they saw it as their own library and we’ve tried to keep that heritage.” By offering an objective point of view for audiences to make up their own minds, the exhibition was refreshingly free of political didacticism.

When I conclude our conversation by asking whether the Russian Revolution will continue to resonant with people, she replies, “The results of the Russian Revolution—the experiments in communism, the Cold War, all these problems with the totalitarian state, economic development in the region – everything influenced and caused by the revolution will stay pretty hot in the agenda for still some time.”

We still cannot escape its shadow, so Russian Revolution: Hope, Tragedy, Myths offered our best chance for a long time to understand it.

The ‘new’ jazz must be seen as well as heard

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London-based Ezra Collective’s second album Juan Pablo: The Philosopher was hotly anticipated by the group’s fans. With a sound that resists definition, the band’s influences range from jazz, hip hop, grime and afrobeat to reggae. Ezra Collective is made up of key members from London’s ‘new’ jazz scene, and features brothers TJ and Femi Koleoso on bass and drums respectively, Joe Armon-Jones on piano, Dylan Jones on trumpet and James Mollison on tenor sax.

Punchy afrobeat track ‘Juan Pablo’ wouldn’t be out of place in the depths of a basement club in London. The Philosopher showcases the Ezra Collective musicians by incorporating stop-chorus sections, enabling soloists to showcase their fresh improvising skills over breaks.

Preceded by a spacey, lilting trumpet interlude played by Dylan Jones, aptly named ‘Dylan’s Dilemma’, the introspective ‘People in Trouble’ is a world away from the usual upbeat vibes of Ezra Collective. To begin, echoing strings accompany the trumpet and the band enters gradually. Later, a driving bassline starts and creates an infectious groove alongside the drums and piano. Joe Armon-Jones bursts into a burning jazz piano solo, which is a highlight of the album.

To finish the EP, James Mollison launches into a sax interlude ‘James Speaks to the Galaxy’, which leads into ‘Space Is the Place’; an innovative, radical take on Sun Ra’s composition. With cosmic leanings and spiritual jazz influences, this track is a high contender for the star piece of the album.

Juan Pablo: The Philosopher places Ezra Collective as one of the most exciting bands on the current UK jazz scene, and points towards a sparkling future of genre-bending, new generation music. As with most jazz acts: best listened to live, this band should be seen, as well as heard.

Life Divided: College Bars

Pro College Bars

Bessie Yuill

Maybe your college bar is genuinely nice enough to pass for an actual pub, like Queen’s. Maybe your college drink has a legendary reputation, like the ‘Cross Keys’ of St Peter’s or the ‘Power Pint’ of Merton. Maybe it closely resembles a spaceship’s cafeteria, like my own beloved Keble. But college bars provide the ideal spot for an evening when you’re feeling lazy but still determined to exercise your right as a student to mid-week drinking.

Not everybody is equally committed to the demands and vagaries of the sesh, and that’s perfectly natural! It’s understandable that not all of us want to make a holy pilgrimage just to offer ourselves to the sesh gods at Park End. That’s where college bars come in – they’re here for us when we just can’t muster the energy for a proper night out.

If you’re a second or third year, you probably also want a place where you can drink while still dressed in the clothes you ate, slept, and cried in after yet another traumatising essay crisis. There’s no chance of running into anybody you’re chirpsing here, since you’ve already either got with or given up on any potentials from your own college. Therefore the college bar is the perfect half-way spot for being social: you don’t have to actually put any effort in, but you also don’t feel as ashamed as you would getting paralytic in your room by yourself (like you did last week).

The proximity of a college bar also provides a crucial health benefit. There is no way for you to be distracted by a kebab van on your way home if you’ve stayed in college: the siren’s call of late night cheesy chips will go unheeded. So in a way, getting so drunk at your college bar that you can’t make it out is the healthiest lifestyle choice you’ll ever make.

Against College Bars

Joanna Lonergan

College bars vary hugely between colleges – Balliol’s watering hole is famously good. The ‘Pango’ at Hertford has the potential to anaesthetise a medium-sized whale, while St John’s disappoints with the unimaginatively named ‘The St John’s College’. Someone obviously put a lot of thought into that. But even if you can overlook the standard 70s decor, make your way around the sticky bits of the floor, find a seat that doesn’t have a suspicious stain on it and be done by 11pm, you’ll still be in for what can only be described as a fairly average night.

Want to meet someone new? You won’t find them in your college bar. The college bar reinforces the divide between ‘town’ and ‘gown’. We’ll confine ourselves to this dimly lit room, and they’ll keep to their Oxford pubs – no eye contact has to be made, and certainly no mixing. It’s this exclusivity which is detracting from local business. There are over 23,000 students at Oxford – that’s a lot of potential business for the city’s locals, and much of this is being snatched by the college bars. Why would you hide yourself away in a dingy basement horribly close to the library, when you could break free and explore the many pubs and cocktail bars that Oxford has to offer?

Yes, the college bars are subsidised. Great. The ease of simply scanning your bod card means that even when you run out of cash you can keep drinking! But uh-oh, what’s this extra £60 on your ballot? You could have sworn you didn’t drink that much, but then again, you can’t really remember… All things considered, the college bar is an affront to Oxford’s wonderful pub scene: treat yourself and have a pint poured by someone who knows what they’re doing.

In The Aeroplane Over The Sea – “experimental and weird”

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Next year marks the twentieth anniversary of one of the most influential works of indie rock ever produced. Neutral Milk Hotel’s In The Aeroplane Over The Sea was first released in 1998 by Jeff Mangum, an independent musician from Athens, Georgia, with a passion for psychedelia and the circus, and since then Aeroplane has become something of a meme. Frequently cresting ‘top 10’ lists on /mu/, the music section of the infamous 4chan and a source of worryingly heated discussion for every musicophile with a top-knot, no matter your take on Aeroplane, you’ve got to admit it’s got something.

The first and most obvious thing to note about In The Aeroplane Over The Sea is that by any typical musical definitions, it’s really weird. Threnodic dirges rub shoulders with gruesome bagpipe lines, stomping out paeans which lead somehow into rasping ballads. The lyrical journey soaring and rising like the eponymous plane, all of it surprising and musically interesting but at the same time – and this, in my mind, is one of the really important things about this album – graphic in visceral and disturbing ways. According to the mythology that surrounds this album, Aeroplane is about Anne Frank. Songs titles like ‘Holland, 1945’, and lyrics like “and she was born in a bottle-rocket, 1929” support the idea, and while Aeroplane isn’t really about any one thing, the story of Anne Frank certainly serves as a consistent motif.

To condense Aeroplane down into one word is difficult, but one that comes to mind is ‘dreamlike’. The alternative hip-hop producer Boom Bip described Aeroplane as “the closest anyone has ever come to putting my dreams into music,” and this aspect of Aeroplane is acknowledged by Mangum in a 1997 Pitchfork interview, in which he said “a lot of the songs are influenced by my dreams.” To give an example, one of the most memorable lines in the album is “She will feed you tomatoes and radio wires /and retire to sheets safe and clean.” Something clashes in the line: tomatoes, soft and natural, and soft, clean bedsheets – indicative of childish innocence – are juxtaposed with radio wires, in all their metallic brutality. This conference of contradictory and disjointing images – which we sometimes see in dreams – represents in microcosm the way Magnum depicts the human experience.

Since Aeroplane’s release in 1998, Magnum has largely disappeared from the public eye, and rumours of a nervous breakdown persist. It’s difficult to come away from Aeroplane not at least slightly doubting the author’s sanity. In the long tradition of American artists who’ve disappeared – think Salinger or Pynchon – Magnum has been reluctant to speak much about this album, and he said in an email to a journalist in 2003 that he “just wants to be left alone.” It’s important that we respect this right, and allow him to have his peace. But 20 years on, Aeroplane hasn’t lost what originally drove the hype. It’s experimental, and weird, and most of all, difficult to exorcise from the mind or forget. Just as non-classicists should read the Iliad, or humanities students need to know about the laws of physics, non-fans of indie rock people should give Aeroplane a listen. It’s just under 40 minutes and free on YouTube. What more do you need to know.