Wednesday, April 30, 2025
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Steven Moffat: A talk at the Oxford Union

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“I am rubbish.” This was the opening statement of Steven Moffat’s talk at the Oxford Union on Monday, and it’s an assessment most of the audience presumably disagreed with. Best known for helming Doctor Who and Sherlock, Moffat’s career stretches back to 1989, and covers such varied genres as children’s TV, sitcoms, feature films, as well as the BBC One dramas which helped make his name. In his brief address before a general Q&A, Moffat stressed the importance of self-awareness.

“I am rubbish. I first became aware of my rubbishness when I overheard my wife on the phone to some camera-people. ‘Don’t get him to take the lens back to Cardiff,’ she said. ‘Why? Because he’ll lose it. I know he’ll lose it. Because he’s rubbish.’ I heard her say that. I took the lens. I lost it.” But rubbishness is a universal trait: “everyone is in disguise as a competent human being”. Diligence is an important factor in success: “you can’t control how rubbish you are… but you can control how hard you work.”

Moffat has been called many things; showrunner, creator, executive producer. But the title he really cherishes is ‘Writer’. “It’s great to be a writer, because we make it up! It’s like you’ve done all the homework, and everyone else copies it.” Moffat was playfully resentful of directors. “They’ll say ‘my inspiration for this movie was this or that moment in my life or this or that artistic vision… and not the 120 pages of finished script my screenwriter gave me! Who else has that, in their job? Oh look, here’s exactly what I need to do.”

The talk then moved into an interview, starting with Doctor Who. Moffat has no patience with the idea of ‘overloading’ the audience. “Children nowadays, teenagers nowadays, are some of the cleverest audiences in history – they’re keeping up with television while texting and tweeting each other, and they’re all getting it. We try never to have a dull moment on Doctor Who.” Catering to adults is fairly straightforward – “it’s like when you go into a restaurant and you eye the children’s menu, and you wish you could order from that instead – it’s the same principle.” There are challenges – “you have to be ringingly clear” – but Moffat was adamant that “to write for children is to write better… everybody likes children’s stuff.”

As well as executive producing Doctor Who, Moffat is co-producer on Sherlock. They’re two very distinct shows, but Moffat finds the differences easy to manage. “I’ve spoken to Mark [Gatiss] about this; we’ve just got to pretend that we don’t work on both. They’re both part of the same landscape, so when a similarity crops up we just try and go with it rather than getting anxious.” It’s not a difference that keeps either writer up at night: “The Doctor is a sort of space Sherlock Holmes anyway.”

Sherlock and Doctor Who are both prestige BBC shows; how does Moffat view the corporation and its future? “The BBC is an unequivocal good – that doesn’t mean every decision it makes is good, or that it’s above reproach, but there’s nothing else in the world like it, and when it’s gone, it’s gone. The circumstances which produced it are never coming back.” Moffat is not totally enamoured of the beeb; “Mark says: ‘you love the BBC, but you don’t expect the BBC to love you back.'” Governments naturally go after the corporation; “no-one likes being criticised. If I had power over every TV critic in the world, I’d have them all executed!” Nevertheless, Moffat hopes that the BBC “remains the powerhouse that it is.”

Returning to Doctor Who, an audience member asked if there was anything Moffat could tell us about the next series. There was talk of a return of the Cybermen, perhaps even an origin story, but Moffat seemed reticent. “Anything is possible… but it’s not an idea that I’m aware of. It’s kind of been done, and I’d be hesitant to return to it. But then I generally speaking lie, so you never know”.

Conscious of potential spoilers, Moffat ended with a tease of series 10: “The Doctor will reliably save the day. There will be big speeches and evil monsters. There will be an epic amount of urgent standing. And you’ll all fall in love with Pearl Mackie as Bill.”

Planet Earth: Ten Years On

 Paris Jaggers

“Today, much has changed.” So says David Attenborough in the opening scene of the BBC’s new sequel to Planet Earth, which first aired in 2006. Ten years on, the BBC’s Natural History Unit is able to make use of the most advanced camera technology to revisit the natural world and reveal it anew in all its splendour. But a rising note, one that’s become tragically more important in the intervening decade, is that of this world’s fragility and the rate of its destruction.

Living up to all expectations, Planet Earth II shows us life at an exquisite, unparalleled degree of detail. Improvements in camera stabilisation, aerial drone footage, remote recording and the ability to film in ultra HD (4K) make every shot spectacular. What catches the eye above all is the depth and range of colour – the first sequence, following a male sloth’s pursuit of a mate through the mangroves of Escudo Island, glimmers in full emerald glory, while a later glimpse at the march of crabs on Christmas Island overwhelms with red and orange.

But the triumph of this new technology is in producing close-up shots that wouldn’t look out of place in a human drama. Our first encounter with Komodo dragons shows the 10ft lizards at an uncomfortably close distance, the blood of their last meal still visible between their teeth.

The first episode, focusing on island wildlife, strikes a perfect balance between the majestic, the terrifying and the tear-jerking. From battle-scarred dragons and hunting packs of racer snakes to penguin parents returning, blood-stained, to feed their chicks, it sweeps across the world to paint a picture of unique island life. The soaring score, composed by the legendary Hans Zimmer (among others), carries us effortlessly through every scene. But what is it telling us?

Nature documentaries have always relied on anthropomorphism to introduce us to the lives of our animal relatives. Despite Attenborough’s meticulously scientific narrative, the close-ups, the score and the dramatically-enhanced presentation combine to show us more than ever that we care most about what we see when it reflects human emotion. The sight of a mother fairy tern refusing to leave her smashed egg, or an entangled fledgling starving on the forest floor, evokes pity in even the most steely of minds.

These scenes may be touching, but they are the symptom of a wider, dangerous trend.  Conservation projects struggle to gain support when the target animal isn’t pretty or cute, and doesn’t behave like humans do. And while few people would tolerate harm to cuddly, expressive and familiar pets like dogs and cats, they find it easy to turn a blind eye to the fates of the millions of other animals abused and killed by humans on a daily basis. Our understanding and appreciation of the natural world, on all ecological levels, is compromised by anthropomorphism, especially when endorsed by high-profile figures like Attenborough.

But as much as it is true that anthropomorphism distances us from the reality of animal life, Planet Earth II’s heightened drama, if used right, can only add to its impact on audiences. As well as for the pure marvel of experiencing the beauty of the natural world, it can expose people to the all-too-necessary message hinted at in this first episode: nature is suffering, and it’s our fault. As Attenborough explains, nowhere is this felt more than in island ecosystems, which have seen around 80% of recent species extinctions. While this was introduced, briefly, in this episode, it remains to be seen if Planet Earth II will harness the power of its footage to truly bring these important issues to the attention of the public.

 

Henry Grub

How fitting that, 10 years after the true epic Planet Earth, the BBC has returned with its sequel, to examine the changes in the interim. Attenborough makes clear from the outset that we are living in a drastically changing world, and we know what this means…

… It means global warming. Sea level rise. Climate change. Greenhouse gases.

So why on Planet Earth did these words not come up?!

I expected this programme to chronicle the emerging battle between life and the altering ecosystem, as it was billed. After all, back in 2006 these issues just weren’t covered and surely all the wildlife in the world has been documented by Attenborough by now.

Yet, I had to wait until 39 minutes in before Attenborough talked about the yellow crazy ants, an invasive human-introduced species that eat the eyes of native crabs on an Indian Ocean island. But even this change is localised and seemed to be added just so the BBC could add in photography of eye-gouged crabs and reel off the 80% fact. No mention of sea level rise, which surely would be quite important with regard to islands, the subject of this week’s episode?

I presumed the four-minute ant-crab saga was just the beginning to the second half of the show, which would address the show’s stated aims. My presumptions seemed to be confirmed with the follow-up line of “our impact on the Earth is greater today than ever before…”

“…yet some islands are so remote few humans have even set foot on them!”

In one foul swoop Attenborough quickly dismissed all notions of impending climate doom and moved onto an unspoilt Southern Ocean island with loads of penguins.

We were instead told the story of a male Chinstrap penguin trying to negotiate the most hellish car-park situation ever, figuring out where he had left his… ahem… family. Impressive he managed to find it among one-and-a-half-million other penguins!

Now, let me set the record straight: Planet Earth II is a formidable nature documentary which sets a very high standard, as one might expect. It is little wonder why the other major channels don’t attempt to replicate what is very much the BBC’s winning formula. And today, with the technology and methodology that Paris detailed, evermore the filmmakers are able to break down the barriers between the viewers and the animals, and bring them into your living room. The shots of the swimming sloth, the stalking Komodo dragon and the startling racer snakes brought the action up close and makes it easy to connect to.

Scientifically, Planet Earth II can seem like an embellished and hyperbolic way of viewing nature, with the grand music scores and lavish, vivid colour. It glamorises the natural world, more like story-telling than scientific fact. I appreciate the good television, but feel a balance between, for example, plants and animals should be struck.

I hope that this series will go onto address some of the key issues that I believe can make it distinct from the endless previous series Attenborough has been accredited for. There will be an ‘urban areas’ episode at some point, and no doubt more “changing world” rhetoric, but I do hope that the BBC isn’t just paying lip-service to the issues too big to ignore.

Hundreds rally for post-election unity at Broad Street demonstration

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On November 13, a ‘Love Rally’ was organised by Oxford students on Broad Street, Central Oxford. Hundreds of people gathered outside the Clarendon Building to express peaceful solidarity, following but not exclusively in response to the results of last week’s US election.

The organisers of the rally urged fellow students “Come stand in solidarity with the people who will be made most vulnerable by a Trump presidency. Come stand in solidarity with the people who fear being stripped of their rights.”

Following the U.S. election, those who were experiencing “fear, confusion, sadness, anger, despair, loneliness, disappointment” were encouraged to stand together, whether American or not, in peaceful unity.

Elizabeth Shaughnessy, one of the organisers of the rally, told Cherwell, “We organized the Love Rally as a way for students and the local community to stand in solidarity with anyone feeling marginalized and alone following the US election as well as Brexit and other nationalist and politically isolating events in Europe. Our goal was to create an inclusive, supportive environment for people here, in America, and abroad.”

Review: Doctor Strange

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I am absolutely certain that the Marvel logo gets longer with each new film from the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). Back when Iron Man first came out in 2008, it was on screen for five, maybe ten seconds — but Doctor Strange , the 14th entry into the MCU, announces itself with the most grandiose, operatic Marvel logo you can possibly imagine. It runs through their most famous characters from The Avengers to the Guardians of the Galaxy , as if to say: “Hey, remember these superhero movies you really like? We made those, so don’t worry: you’re in safe hands!”

Doctor Strange is, however, definitely distinguished from the other Marvel films simply by fully embracing the madcap weirdness of the magic side of the Marvel universe. If you’re worried about needing tons of backstory before going in, don’t be—compared to Captain America: Civil War earlier this year, Doctor Strange is very light on Marvel connections. Aside from the odd mention of the Avengers and a couple of shots of the Avenger’s Tower, only the first end credits scene really ties the film into the larger universe, so it’s very easy to watch as a standalone film.

I never like recommending a film based on the visuals alone (because otherwise we’d all hold up the Transformers series as masterpieces of filmmaking) but the visuals of this film honestly have to be seen to be believed. It is rare that the phrase “jaw-dropping” is used literally, but on an enormous screen, some of the more surreal sequences had me catching flies in my mouth. Even apart from those, the production and costume design are outstanding, and the visualisation of magic is really interestingly done—certainly a lot more physical than the “point-and-squint” wandwork in the Harry Potter series.

The cast is on top form, too. One of my main worries going in, surprisingly enough, was Benedict Cumberbatch as Strange. His American accent seemed a bit shaky in the trailers, but his performance absolutely anchors the film and creates pathos where many actors would only irritate the audience.

It’s a touch too close to his portrayal of Sherlock at times, but they’re both enormously arrogant, immensely intelligent masters of their fields, so it’s a forgivable similarity. Elsewhere, Tilda Swinton turns in a fantastic performance as The Ancient One, Chiwetel Ejiofor is reliably brilliant in a significant supporting role, and Mads Mikkelsen makes a more interesting villain than many in the Marvel pantheon.

The only issues with the film are pretty minor, to be honest; structurally, it’s very similar to Iron Man 1 and Ant-Man , and Marvel’s trademark sense of humour undercuts what ought to be many of the film’s best moments. The punch-based fight sequences are shot pretty badly too, with the camera far too close to the action for you to really get an idea of whats going on—but then the action reverts to citybending, mind-warping craziness of such visual inventiveness and breathtaking spectacle that by the time the third act sweeps in and starts messing about with time, you can’t help but grin at the sheer wonder of what’s happening on the screen in front of you.

After a string of high-profile failures in the comic book movie genre this year (ahem Batman v s Superman , ahem ahem Suicide Squad ), it was such a relief to sit down to a movie that’s actually pretty damn good for a change. This is honestly the most purely fun film to come out this year—find the biggest screen you can and don’t miss this one.

Preview: The Roaring Girl

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Want a welcome break from the Trump turmoil? The Roaring Girl from St Hilda’s College Drama Society not only provides comedic light relief but also some fun proto-feminism to cheer you up.

Dekker and Middleton’s city comedy has very rarely seen the light of day in Oxford drama. Co-director Alex Barasch calls it a “forgotten gem.” With its heroine Moll Cutpurse striding the stage wearing men’s trousers and duelling her misogynist opponents with gusto, this production sounds like it’s come just at the right time to give all us students some feminist fun.

The play includes a large cast, entirely made-up of St Hilda’s students, including eleven newbies who’ve never done Oxford drama before. Directors, producers, this is your chance to spot your next star! As a result of this inclusiveness, the cast have had just three weeks to rehearse and learn the lengthy Renaissance script. A mammoth task, one might think, but Freya Cunningham as Moll and Felicity Miles as her lecherous nemesis Laxton seemed to have no trouble when I watched a sneak preview of the show. Cunningham in particular performed a sizeable speech with aplomb, her fury at Laxton varied in pitch but not intensity. She lends real power to the role, particularly in this more serious scene.

Miles is also impressive as Moll’s opponent Laxton. Used to playing the debutante or the ingénue, she told me in a weird way it’s empowering to play the misogynist: “It’s almost a release to get to make comic relief out of the creepy guys in the club.” Despite a minor mishap with the props during the preview (nothing a little sellotape won’t fix!), the duelling looks like it’ll be slick and entertaining.

Barasch and his co-director Jhanie Fender have transitioned their Roaring Girl to the roaring twenties. Partly set amongst London’s shopkeepers, the women are unwilling to go back to a simply domestic role after their brief experience of independence during the First World War. Gender is clearly a big theme in this production. The characters may be larger-than-life and comedic, but the ideas behind them are thought-provoking.

However, the directors are keen to emphasise that above all, this is a comedy. In fact, Barasch sees the comedy as holding up better than that of Shakespeare—and the drama includes both shopkeepers and Lords, taking in more of the ‘commoners’ than in Twelfth Night, or Much Ado, for example.

Taking place in the Jacqueline du Pre Music Building, the inevitable omnipresent piano is being used to effect in a musical interlude during a scene at Sir Alexander’s house, whilst the shopkeepers will be represented by a trio of colourful shopfronts.

All in all, this promises to be a fun and feisty production, whether you’re in the mood to take down the patriarchy or just escape the cold November weather and fifth week blues for a warm and diverting show. Cunningham says since taking on the role she’s begun asking herself, “What Would Moll Do?” Having seen some of Moll’s fierce independence (and duelling skills!) first hand, I think this wouldn’t be a bad motto for all of us at the moment. If you want to see for yourself what Moll would do, head down to Hilda’s this weekend for seduction, sword fighting, and smashing societal expectations.

Letters from abroad: Nîmes

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In his generation-defining novel Fiesta (or The Sun Also Rises),Hemingway exalts the passion and courage on display in the Spanish corridas of Pamplona. Yet, it is his non-fiction work ‘Death in the Afternoon’, published six years later in 1932, that is considered a fundamental guide to the history of bullfighting, even by real enthusiasts. In it, he writes, “Bullfighting is the only art in which the artist is in danger of death and in which the degree of brilliance in the performance is left to the fighter’s honour.” As a keen reader of Hemingway, when I stumbled upon a poster advertising the final of Le Trophée Taurin, I knew I had to go.

For my year abroad, I’m teaching English in a lycée in Nîmes, referred to as ‘The French Rome’ due to its Roman heritage. Consequently there are several Roman monuments, including Les Arènes, a Roman amphitheatre—in fact, the biggest and best-preserved one outside of Italy. Because of this, Nîmes is considered to be the capital of French bullfighting. Previously, I’d been to one bullfight before, and it was a traditional, rather grisly, corridas in Seville. So when I made my way down to the arena one Sunday afternoon a couple of weeks ago, past overflowing bodegas with sangria-sipping crowds spilling out onto the bustling streets, I was fully expecting a similar experience, a culturally intriguing and enchanting spectacle, coupled with the bitter aftertaste of cruelty and death. However, I was to be pleasantly surprised.

Completely by chance, that afternoon I was about to discover La Course Camarguaise, or bullfighting à la Française. As opposed to its bloody Iberian counterpart, French bullfighting doesn’t end with a dead bull. Whilst a traditional, Spanish bullfight consists of various rounds of pageantry, designed to weaken and taunt the bull, resulting in its inevitable death, but with La Course Camarguaise, it’s different. For starters, instead of matadors and picadors, the format is far simpler. For 15 minutes, a group of men (Razeteurs), kitted out in Pamplona-style outfits, compete amongst each other to remove ribbons from between the bull’s horns. In return for their courage and sheer disregard for their own safety in grabbing these ribbons, they are awarded cash prizes.

The real enjoyment of this comes from the bravery of the Razeteurs as they evade the horns of the bull, often narrowly. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that part of the fun also comes from secretly willing the bull to finally catch up with one of them. With this version of the bullfight, it ends up feeling more like Total Wipeout than ritualistic blood sacrifice. Another very telling difference is that, whereas before a Spanish corridas, posters advertise the names of the matadors, with La Course Camarguaise, it is the bulls’ names instead that are listed. Hemingway wrote: “Anything capable of arousing passion in its favour will surely raise as much passion against it.” But as the passion against it appears to increasingly outweigh the passion for it, perhaps La Course Camarguaise provides a more humane alternative, whilst preserving the cultural significance of bullfighting for many communities.

W.H. Auden’s return to Christ Church

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Underfoot, beneath the vaulted ceilings of Christ Church Cathedral, is a small, modest plaque. Easy to step on, even easier to walk past, it is not something which draws attention to itself. Take the time to explore the plaques intermingled with the stones, however, and you’ll find a black triangle, bearing a dedication to the great man. Auden was, and still is, a literary giant whose influence stretches through so much modern poetry, not just in Oxford—yet Auden and the University are still bound together over the course of decades, first as student, later as master.

Last week, we looked back on Richard Burton gracing Oxford with his presence, leaving, and then returning for a glorious hero’s welcome. Auden’s journey to and from the city was much the same. However, the educational route of Auden, one of the greatest English poets of all time, was anything but clear-cut. He came to Oxford to study Biology, only to have switched to English by second year and graduated with a third-class degree in 1928.

At Christ Church, he would fall into a group of future poetic stars such as Stephen Spender, Louis MacNeice and Cecil Day-Lewis. They would later be known, rather disingenuously, as the ‘Auden Group’ during the 1930s, which marked their heyday. Their friendship and cross-pollination was a huge influence, both on each other and on the literary scene of inter-war Britain as a whole.

After his studies, Auden left Britain for Berlin, to encounter the physical and political turmoil which would underscore much of his work. After nine months, he returned to Britain, had his first collection of poems published and began to establish himself as one of the finest poets in the country.

Twenty years after graduation, Auden took up the post of Professor of Poetry at the University. He was a hit with the student body, all while bolstering his output with articles, reviews and reading tours, and would eventually retire in Oxford, offered a cottage by Christ Church, while regularly holidaying in Austria.

Auden died in Vienna and is buried there, but his work lives on in the city and college where he made such an impact. Auden’s name is embedded into Christ Church’s Cathedral, much like his presence is embedded into Oxford’s recent history.

Antibiotic apocalypse

The modern world owes its existence to the industrial revolution and medicine, and it’s hard to dispute the benefits both have brought. But you can have too much of a good thing. Overuse of antibiotics is leading to the development of antibiotic resistance in many bacteria, meaning antibiotics are becoming useless for some infections. If the trend continues, there is a possibility that trivial ailments like chest infections will become untreatable and even basic surgery will become impossible. This ‘antibiotic apocalypse’ is creeping ever forward with each drug prescription.

The more we use antibiotics, the more likely it is these antibiotic-resistant bacteria can gain a foothold, outperforming other strains.  Antibiotics are dished out daily in prescriptions from GPs, pharmacists and vets, as well as in battery farms to both prevent illness and promote growth. This cavalier attitude to the use of antibiotics has led to the emergence of so-called ‘superbugs’ like MRSA and Clostridium difficile. Infections from these superbugs are sometimes completely untreatable and, without a change in the way antibiotics are administered, the number of multi-drug resistant strains of bacteria will continue to rise.  According to Dr Craig MacLean of the University of Oxford Department of Zoology, “By 2050 it’s predicted that antibiotic resistant bacteria will be responsible for ten million deaths every year.” The ultimate end of this trend is the so-called ‘antibiotic apocalypse’, in which all known antibiotics are no longer effective in treating disease, causing previously trivial infections to become life threatening.

It’s not just the healthcare system that will be challenged, the economy is set to take a hit too. “In a post-antibiotic world, you might go to the GP with a chest infection,” MacLean explains. “They might tell you that you’ll be fine, but you need to take three or four months off  work. That’s going to have a huge effect on the economy.” This situation is only exacerbated by the fact that there has been a drought in antibiotic discovery since the 1980s.

We can postpone the arrival of the post-antibiotic world, but it’s going to require some significant changes to how antibiotics are used.  Many antibiotics are prescribed needlessly because it’s very easy to confuse a bacterial infection with an infection caused by a virus. Antibiotics are effective against bacteria but cannot kill viruses. As a doctor, if a patient arrives at a hospital with flu-like symptoms, they could either have the flu, which is caused by a virus, or they could have a bacterial infection. Antibiotics will be useless against the flu, but a bacterial infection could be harmful if left untreated. Do you assume it’s the flu and send them home for some rest or do you give them antibiotics just in case?  Diagnostic tools that help doctors distinguish between viral and bacterial infections do exist, but they’re currently too expensive for global use.

The inability to distinguish types of infection is only part of the problem; the attitude of patients can be an issue too. Most people aren’t aware of antibiotic resistance, and our busy lives mean we just want a pill to help us as quickly as possible. Many people feel more comfortable walking out of the doctor’s surgery with a prescription. “People are seeking medicine as well as advice,” said Professor Chrisoph Tang of the Sir William Dunn School of Pathology. Tang believes educating patients about antibiotics could help significantly. “In Scandinavia, the general public are well educated about antibiotic resistance. Antibiotic use is lower there and we see less antibiotic resistance.”

If the four horsemen of the apocalypse are indeed just around the corner, it’s Pestilence leading the charge. Antibiotic resistance is an imminent threat and left unchecked it will change the face of modern medicine.

It’s not too late for the horsemen to falter, change is possible and in some cases simple.  Antibiotics need to be used more sparingly, but we need affordable technology to help this happen. Equally importantly, we need to be more aware about what we can do. We have to stop demanding antibiotics from our doctors and, if we are given some, we must finish the prescription.

Poetry through a rose-tinted telescope

“You are my sun, my moon, and all my stars…” Oh, Cummings! You bore me with your clichés. When will all these star-crossed lovers learn to look beyond the very basics of the cosmos for romantic inspiration? Our adored “pale-faced moon” pales further into insignificance when compared to the infinity of what lurks far beyond it, so why be restricted to such over-used imagery? Although talk of black holes and the Theories of Relativity are rare in a lover’s lexicon, there’s little crime in being original and intelligent in our expression.

Poets have ventured very timidly into space imagery: sun, moon, stars, relatively plain elements of the universe which are all immediately visible with the naked eye. Stars are just balls of gas which emit light. The real hidden gems are collapsed stars.

Collapsing stars can create a black hole or, in very specific circumstances depending on pressure and chemical composition, a dying star can become a diamond with the same structure as one you would find in a ring, but unimaginably larger. In 2004, scientists discovered the largest space diamond yet, measuring 4000 km across—larger than the moon—and with a core composed of 10 billion trillion trillion carats. Such immense, dazzling gems are lodged in unknown corners of our universe, unseen by telescopes since they emit less light than ‘normal’ stars.

A by-product of a star dying is the dispersion of gas molecules thrown out as the star explodes or compresses. These rejected molecules eventually form gas clouds with those of other collapsed stars. Each gas cloud is a unique shape, colour and chemical composition, making hypnotic Holi-style appearances at the end of our telescopes.

And as much as poets praise the beautiful, they are irresistibly drawn toward the morose and the macabre, transforming death, decay and pain into beauty and art. Images of Hell, blood, worms, shadows, sleep, but what about black holes?

A black hole is formed when a dying star with sufficient mass is compressed to a tiny, incredibly dense core as it is sucked in by its own gravity. In the case of supermassive black holes, this core has an immensely powerful gravitational pull and mercilessly drags any surrounding matter into its heart. Even light is swallowed up, hence the appellation ‘black’ holes. However, black holes are incredibly unpredictable and even today we cannot claim to fully understand them. Sometimes they devour nearby stars, sometimes they stunt their growth, but black holes have also been known to accelerate the growth of new stars.

If you care to look, there is art wherever there is science. It is time to explore and exploit this. Look up at the stars and then beyond, for both poetry and space know no boundaries.

The Promised Land

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Until the early hours of Thursday morning – Chicago Cubs were the worst franchise in American sporting history. 71 years had passed since their last World Series appearance, 108 years since their last World Series Triumph. When the World Series was last won by the Cubs, World War I was yet to begin, Edward VII was King of England and the oldest living person in Britain had just celebrated her 4th birthday – this was a long losing streak.

Unlike the sport we enjoy in Britain, where power often lies in the hand of those with the biggest pockets, US sport prides itself on equality. All the ‘Big Four’ League – NFL (American Football), NBA (Basketball), NHL (Ice Hockey) and MLB (Baseball), employ draft systems whereby the lowest ranked teams the previous season get first pick of the best new talent for the upcoming season in the hope that they’ll stop being so bad. The Chicago Cubs didn’t stop being so bad – no other side in the ‘Big Four’ leagues come close to a drought as long as the Cubs.

Longest Current Droughts in the Big 4 American Leagues.

Team League Seasons
Chicago Cubs* MLB 107
Cleveland Indians MLB 68
Sacramento Kings NBA 65
Detroit Lions NFL 58
Atlanta Hawks NBA 58
Texas Rangers MLB 56
Houston Astros MLB 55

 

*On Thursday morning however, history was changed. 108 years of pain was over as by overcoming the Cleveland Indians 8-7 in the final game of the 7 match World Series, the Indians themselves claimed top spot on one of American Sports most unwanted lists.

Throughout Chicago, the city was overcome with elation as the curse of Billy the Goat, placed on the team by a fan during their most recent World Series defeat in 1945, was lifted. This was however, as beautifully portrayed in a Wright Thompson piece for ESPN, a night of complex emotion. Much like with Stockholm Syndrome whereby hostages express positive feelings towards their captors, the curse for the Cubs has become such a part of the clubs identity it will be hard for fans to relinquish it – a victory will never taste so sweet again.

The day of the finale was one of reflection in Chicago. With 108 years of history about to be ended, many spent the day thinking about the 108 years of failure before them and the loved ones who had come and gone with it. One the walls of Wrigley Field, the Cubs home ground, many congregated to write messages to loved ones and names of loved ones who were no longer around for the special day. ‘This one is for you, Dad’ one read. As Thompson wrote in his piece, ‘each name represented an unfulfilled dream.’

Sports fans, more than most, have many an unfulfilled dream. Only a select few reach the promised land, and even when you’re there you want more. On Wednesday night, hours before the Cubs won the World Series I attended a Spurs Champions League game, a competition I and fellow Leeds fans had been longing for a place in ever since we were last knocked out of it, 15 years ago. And yet, to Spurs fans, this greatly coveted and cherished honour wasn’t so greatly coveted and cherished. Losing 1-0, the stadium half emptied. Success is all relative. The promised land is not the important thing, but the journey that may or may not lead there.

One of those Cubs supporters who went to Wrigley Field to write on the walls, was Mary Beth Talhami; she wrote “Mom, thank you for teaching us to believe in ourselves, love and the Cubs. Enjoy your view from the ultimate skybox.” Her mother, Ginny Iversen had died just 6 days before, after game 2 of the World Series, having lived for 94 years as a fanatical Cubs supporter. She passed away wrapped in her beloved Cubs blanket.

Mary Beth went to her local bar to watch the game. With the game tantalisingly poised at 6-6 a rain break further elongated the wait, but then, upon resumption, the Cubs hit two further runs and closed the game out to end the longest drought in sport. While the city erupted, time stood still for Mary Beth, with the timing of her mother’s passing this was about far more than a game of baseball. Looking towards her mother in the sky, with victory shot raised in the air, it all hit home. As the emotion of the last few hours and the last 6 days set in, all Mary Beth could do was sob and shake. As time passed she steadied herself, and still looking to the sky, saw off the shot.

108 years were over, 94 years were over, it was all over.