Etiquette Caleb Wheeler-Robinson
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Monday 11th March 2013
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bite Editorial : Etiquette B
eing new to writing editorials, I m currently facing a predominantly blank screen which is currently being lled with words that have nothing to do with a subject which I know little about and more worryingly cannot even spell correctly. Furthermore I have been told with this article I have to either be funny or make a point. Damn. So we may as well talk about Etiquette, solely with the purpose of linking the text to the headline. A denition is a nice place to begin. This will also give me the opportunity to spell it correctly, avoiding the squiggly red lines of doom. Conventional requirements as to social behaviour; proprieties of conduct as established in any class or community or for any occasion. Etiquette, I feel, is something that is built in at birth. This is plausible when looking at the denition, as when you are born you are established within a class and a community and hence once displaced from this you, well I, occasionally/normally feel slightly out of place. Whilst trying not to be too racist, I shall impart my experiences of being displaced out of my class and community, living in France and trying to understand the bizarre situation of greeting people in professional and social situations. Every morning I had to personally say hello or ‘bonjour to the majority of people in my corridor, a ritual which took approximately 30 minutes out of my working day. The next 30 minutes of my morning would involve being disrupted with my late-arriving colleagues insisting on shaking my hand. After the morning ritual was
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done, I’d think I was safe. But then I had to remember when meeting people within the day whether I had seen them or not. Failing this I would have to remember to politely ask whether I had seen my colleague that day - I found out the hard way that not shaking hands with people is massively frowned upon. This situation was further complicated by gender (as usual, amirite Sociologists?) when greeting my female colleagues. The problem I had here was remembering whether the greeting was a hand shake or a kiss on two cheeks, both of which seem awkward for somebody raised within repressed, middle-class British society. This problem was also coupled with the fact that colleagues could randomly decide on certain days without any prior warning to change the greeting. Decadent Frenchmen. The rules: Women two cheek kiss, men hand shaking, but you must be sure you greet and say goodbye to everybody with this similar manner. I once saw a group of ve girls say goodbye to each other. It took at least two minutes and they missed their train. Now after attacking the French, I feel that I should point out that, funnily enough, putting a French person into the UK creates similar problems. Now I could suggest creating an EU special commission on etiquette to stop these issues. But the fuss the Conservatives would kick up isn’t worth the effort. Zombie Churchill (the most dangerous version) would be resurrected as soon as the Italians tried to tell a Tory peer how to behave.
We should also consider the outrage caused within society when etiquette goes wrong. I will take an example from sport, which is inevitable as I am normally a sports reporter - this week I decided to start whoring myself out to other sections. I m not just going to choose any sport arbitrarily, instead I m going to choose the sport ingrained within the highest echelons of British society: Cricket. When cricket players get angry and question decisions made by umpires it s as if the British upper-class collectively tuts. Without being racist, again, it’s normally Australians, well Ricky Ponting, who cause monocles to be dropped into Pimms and Bucks Fizz to boil over across the land. Etiquette used to help people move into new circles, giving them some ground rules by which they could avoid being ostracised. Which is pretty useful really, especially if you’re trying to seduce an aristocrat. But we live in a modern, globalised world now, even bigger and more connected than Europe. I feel the matter may call for UN intervention rather than the just the measly EU. A standardised etiquette will have to be adopted, which would be great, as long as it s not based on the Americans… Simon Rushtom
This week s theme is...
Blog of the week:
Etqiuette, or to look at in a slightly wider view, the social norms that make us do weird things that we really wouldn’t do if for the fact that it would be weird not to... yeah that makes sense. For your weekly dose of ne analytical journalism why not try Ben Hooper s article on page 3, Helen Edworthy discussing the different standards of men and women on page 5, Nathan Hill discussing vegetarianism on page 6 and your weekly x of class with fashion on pages 8 and 9.
http://www.everydaysexism.com/
To get involved in bite and hear the playlist for this issue, head over to our facebook group at www.facebook.com/bathimpactbite Or email us at impact-bite@bath.ac.uk
Normally this feature focuses on the more light hearted and funny blogs on the world wide interwebs, but today we go a bit more serious. The Everyday Sexism Project seeks to document and catalogue the standard everyday sexism that women suffer through (with posts from both men and women) to show the extent to which it still exists in society. Simple but brilliant.
If you do one thing this week...
Things to...
Go and see The Gaslight Anthem in Bristol on the 22nd and 23rd of March. Quite possibly the best modern rock band of the last few years are still touring in support of their brilliant fourth album, Handwritten. Brian Fallon and the boys bring their mix of classic rock and punk to Bristol in what will denitely be a rock ‘n roll showcase with screaming vocals and loud guitars. This could be the last chance to see them in an academy.
Watch: Community. Cult classic with the amazing Donald Glover and the beautiful Alison Brie. So fucking meta and absolutely hilarious. Read: John Green. Paper Towns and Fault In Our Stars are absolutely wonderful and very easy to read. Listen: David Bowie. He’s got a new album out and all, it’s only polite... see what I did there... it’s funny because the theme is etiquette... yeah well fuck you Pirates! And assassins! And oh sweet mother of god!
Best quotes from our heads
Have some class...
“A day wasted on others is not a day wasted on oneself.” ― Charles Dickens
Turn to pages 8 and 9 for Sophia Guilfoyle’s take on high style with the help of the full fashion, design and photography team. Two beautiful models (seriously though), a wonderful design and a fabulous sweeping panorama of Bath Crescent. For any interviews you may have, the upcoming University awards ceremonies and the ever closer Summer Ball, this is your guide.
“At fty everyone has the face they deserve.” ― George Orwell “I get my energy from my inner G.” ― Lupe Fiasco
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She s beautiful and wonderful and talented and buy!
Monday 11th March 2013
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Etiquette, a Flintstone s guide mikecogh
written by Ben Charles Hooper
That s a lot of spoons, forks, knives and God knows what else, and apparently they are all very different. But really, does any of it really matter in the slightest?
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tiquette, as I m sure you d agree, is a form of social norm, the customary code of polite behaviour. It seems to me etiquette resides safely from objection, apart from that of perhaps angsty teens and cats, and is much safer from rebellion than regular normative behaviour. Many people in many ways break social norms every day, and of course norms exist in many different forms in every society and certainly in subgroups within those societies, but how often is common etiquette not adhered to? Based on no scientic evidence whatsoever, it is clear to me that etiquette is a far stronger set of norms than we may believe, adhered to more strictly than many other perceived norms. 60% of the time, this is true, all of the time. Perhaps it s because of an inherent will to be liked, accepted, treating others as you would like to be treated, but is probably merely due to the fact that being courteous is just a way of avoiding conict by performing tasks which are easier than saying the word. It would be impossible in such a short article to properly catalogue and contrast different forms of normative behaviour, so instead I ll just explore some of the ideas involved, equipped with nothing more than the meandering assumptions and ideas oating round in my sparrow-sized brain. Often norms can be covertly avoided and deviant behaviour kept under wraps, it s the old, if Helen Keller falls over in the woods, does anyone hear scenario. So, for instance, it s accepted that, once married, a man or woman would agree to remain faithful to one another. In the most part this is the case anyhow, in some cases people would maybe enter into a kind of double team swinging partnership with their neighbours, this is what is called the Flintstones Model but that s by the by. I mean, Fred obviously dominated and didn t share Wilma with Barney because he was the alpha, this obviously meant that Barney was full of omega3, which of course lead to the girls wanting more of his juice than Fred’s. Lost? OK. So my point is that you can cheat on your husband without him knowing thus deviating from the norm but without your husband ever nding out; however, you can t not say thank you when he s made you a sandwich,
because he probably won t make you another one, or make any more of those lovely soufés. Notice the role reversals there? That s right we re a forward thinking paper! In some cases etiquette is used as a futile attempt at getting laid, I would say mostly in the cases of those creatures of base instinct, men. This has been true of me in the past, especially in the spectrum of etiquette known in the industry as holding doors open for people . This is one form of politeness that provides much entertainment, seeing a guy, holding ve or six doors open for an approaching girl with legs that go up to her pearl earrings and a body like Wilma Flintstone, is hilarious; the only problem is, she’s about fty yards away, now why young sir are you holding that door for an extra-long time and smiling ever-so sweetly at the girl who has her pick of all the boys in bedrock, and is clearly not interested in acknowledging your valiant effort to help her avoid the horric ordeal of having to open the door for herself. I apologise for my pessimism and assuming the worst in human character, naturally many acts such as this are completely altruistic, regardless, proximity should always be taken into account, if the person is completely able and more than two metres away they should be able to walk through the door, guilt-free, rebelliously leaving it swinging back to whence it came in their wake. We should break these silly rules of etiquette, if these days, it s ok to run down the road screaming in the middle of the night for no reason, then surely this is ne. Surely? So go to 1West and watch the mayhem unravel. Etiquette is also a very important factor in sport, perhaps some more than others, whether it be shaking hands before a match, or being silent as a player is taking their shot in golf, this etiquette can even exist within forms of deviant behaviour. In ice hockey for instance, you are penalised for ghting, but it s still very much part of the game and there are strict rules of etiquette involved such as: not hitting an opponent until he s ready to be punched, if the opponent goes down, you stop punching him etc. Finally, curling, well everyone s too pissed to understand anything that s going on, and that isn t a
dig at the Scotts, this is a dig at the Scotts: Burns is a character from the Simpsons. Oooh... moving on. I get the impression from some rst-hand experience that many continental Europeans get frustrated with certain forms of British etiquette, such as our draconian style of queueing, with punishments of evil stares and gossip if queues aren t taken seriously. Of course not many people will tell you how much you ve offended them, but trust me, if you skip the queue, even if there s only three people in the queue, you re in for some serious scowling. I ve also been criticised for how often I say sorry, for pretty much anything I do whether it be intentionally or not. My host while I was in Russia didn t like this at all, in mother Russian we say sorry for nothing [loose quote] . Russia’s not all that brutal, really, really? No, one of the rst people I met in St Petersburg was a dustbin man who happened to be killing a kitten by throwing it against a wall, but, that s a social norm in Russia that I just had to get used to. The truth is without norms, we would truly live in a state of nature with no ideas of how to act within our environment aside from acting on base urges, but to what extent do these base urges take over in modern society. I ll leave you with some questions, do we have less common values today than we did in the past? Do we adhere to social norms in the same way? Or are social norms just becoming more eeting and complex? One poignant modern example is the values and norms ascribed to social networking sites, changing in communications leading to vast changes in courting etiquette. There are specic do s and do not s involved as there always have been, but we re closer together, we communicate constantly with the wider world, and less and less directly with our immediate environments, we are also being communicated to more by lms, television and video games this is having an effect on our behaviour, I think? Broken Britain? Broken Record? Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I have nothing against women, Russia, Russian women, cats, Russian cats. But I don t like David Cameron much. P.S. I d go with Betty, but I d be thinking about Wilma.
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Monday 11th March 2013
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Modern Notes: Tradition Written by Rowan Emslie
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he world of classical music is obviously a place of high class and formality. The musicians dress in full black or white tie, the venues are generally grandly decorative and formidably agéd, and the audience even more so. Walking into your rst concert can be an intimidating experience. Richard Wagner is the pinnacle for demanding and exacting concert hall practice. You do not clap until the end of the concert - you never acknowledge individual pieces of soloists. If you do so you will recieve a glance capable of withering the strongest of souls. Since 1876 the city of Bayreuth has been home to an annula festival dedicated to all things Wagner. The composer himself conceived and designed the festival to better showcase his enormously long operas, most notably The Ring Cycle an epic that gives us the phrase it ain t over til the fat lady sings . Obviously, he was a man who had no problems with his self-esteem. Not only did he put together the programme and propse the idea in the rst place, he had a massive amount of input on the building built specially to house the festival. Huge numbers of people have been going to this event since it was created. It was a particular pet project of Hitler who supported it throughout the war period, sending wounded soldiers to enjoy the operas of The Master, as Wagner became known in the 1930s. To this day, fans often have to spend several years on the waiting list before a ticket becomes available. Despite this, many classical music fans regard it as a puritanical audience experience - the slightest noise or disturbance can result in expulsion. Wagner remains one of the most venerated of all classical composers but the attitude surrounding The Master and his works - which cannot be altered without massive outcry from his loyal and distinctly conservative following - is indicative of a stufness that still holds classical music back. Young audiences expect to be able to attend concerts without feeling out of place, without being viewed suspiciously and without constantly being on edge for upsetting a very old and, frankly, stuffy set of rules designed to maintain status quo. Is it any wonder that the genre is the least popular among young people when the ethos of its core constituents is to combat change. One of the great things about modern classical music is that it is built on combating the grand Germanic line that Wagner bestrode towards the end of the 19th century. Bach, Beethoven and Brahms - the Three Bs - still dominate many orchestra s repetoires, centuries on. While these are undoubtedly great composers and are rightly canonised, the overwhelming focus on the past strangles the future. Figures like the Bs and Wagner are all powerful, bringing in crowds and money for many years, creating a re-inforcing image of greatness that extends beyond anything that a living composer could possible achieve. Visual arts faces the same problem. Can any new artwork hope to be considered as important as the Da Vinci s Mona Lisa or Monet s Waterlilies? They are cultural short hands, the rst paintings most people would think of. New artists don’t want to compete with that. Why would they? So of course they do something completely different, something so weird and unusual that it can never be compared to Mona Lisa. Of course they would, it makes no sense not to do that. All those complaints about modern art not being real art are observations that show those artists have achieved what they wanted - they wanted to create something incomparable to what has gone before. The composers of the 20th century and beyond who changed notation techniques and induced tortured electronic noises from new technology; all they wanted was to push things forward. The way that people were expected to consume art in the 19th century is a standard that shouldn t be considered relevant to anybody today. The only way for art to change and improve is to experiment, to purposefully break from what has gone before - the etiquette of consumption is part and parcel of that process.
It ain t over till the not so fat lady faints on you and you get Flava Flav s favourite hat. Oh and a spear. Awesome
Monday 11th March 2013
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Disney ABC Television Group
Our differing social norms
Despite being only 22, the media coverage seemed often to overlook Jennifer Lawrence in favour of male actors
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written by Helen Edworthy
s everyone with any memory capacity knows (sorry, goldsh), the Academy Awards (more commonly referred to as the Oscars) happened very recently, another night in the long parade of awards shows all taking place within a month of each other. As everyone also knows, amongst the glitz and glamour of the whole event there were a few mishaps: Jennifer Lawrence tripped over trying to climb some stairs, The Onion got in trouble for some of their live tweets, and Seth McFarlane s opening number We Saw Your Boobs fell on ears that were less than impressed. While there have been some calls of but it was a joke! Jokes are funny! Seth McFarlane is funny! , the general acceptance of a lot of his humour whilst hosting the show was actually a total lack of it; his humour works well on his shows because it doesn t pretend to be anything other than over the top but when a long-established event like the Academy Awards tries to deviate from its usual polished formula, it can be risky. And it was indeed risky, in the same way dating Taylor Swift can be; she just might write a song about you, and you might have to put up with goats doing impressions of you for a few months. The result of Seth MacFarlane s hosting is that the humour came across as sexist in a lot of places; and when only nine of all the award recipients of the night were female, it has done little but again make the point that some things are expected of women that would not be expected of men. The context of the We Saw Your Boobs song is such that it reduces the actresses mentioned to just their physical appearance (and that s also brushing over the fact that some of the examples were from rape scenes), and makes a comment that the only important part of a woman is her breasts - which is something that seems to happen time and time again. McFarlane made a joke about boobs? That s hardly even original at this point. I love insulting humour; nearly half of everything that comes out of my mouth is slightly insulting (like your mum) – but that works because I generally only do it with people I know well, and who know that it s a sign of affection (or, more likely, it s just a generally accepted fact that I have a cold black heart that’s icier than the Tundra). Coming from Seth McFarlane, and aimed at a bunch of actresses that he most likely doesn t know, it comes across more as just another jab at the fact that women are meant just to accept having the way they look pulled apart or commented on purely because of the fact that it is generally acceptable practice. There are always comments along the lines of women in these situations being oversensitive , or reading too much into things which can, sometimes, be fairly attributed to a one-off comment. The issue is that for a lot of women, comments about their appearance are not a one-off; they re every day, and everywhere, about any and every aspect of themselves. It does more than directly insult them, it makes it seem like a woman is nothing but the things she can outwardly offer. Never mind what she may be able to do in terms of good or awesome the unfortunate thing is that sometimes it could feel like a woman could gure out how to create a bed that toasts wafes for you (sweet, tasty wafes) without setting the whole thing and the people sleeping in it on re (sweet, tasty re) and most of the comments would still be about whether she s wearing too much eyeliner or how low her neckline is. It s disappointing more than anything else, because for all the talk about how things are now super excellent for women one hundred per cent of the time there are ten comments about how a woman should be or what she should be doing that detract from the sentiment. McFarlane may only be making a joke, but the culture behind it is greatly upsetting – even more so than my life’s lack of a WafeBed™. What I would like to see is for a woman to be able to do what she wants, wear what she wants, and not have to be subjected to a dissection or why she did it or why she may have chosen to do so. A woman wants to wear lime green shoes with purple jeans? Sure, go ahead. Wants to draw on her own eyebrows in eyeliner? Her choice. Wear a hoodie with the face of a dragon on the front and felt spines on the back to go food shopping? No, wait; that s just something I personally want to do. We ll just have to wait and see how a Seth McFarlane-written song about that goes.
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Monday 11th March 2013
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Shove this in your piehole
rcarver
Written by Nathan Hill
Meat is so integral to modern living but could we live without it if we had to? Is it basically murder or are the vegetarians amongst us just denying what is natural
I
have recently decided to become a vegetarian, at least temporarily and while it may not seem so at rst, I feel this ts into the ‘etiquette’ theme of the issue because the level of hostility I’ve encountered towards my decision to forgo meat has been quite surprising. It seems there are social norms which, however barbarous, some members of a society deem them, are defended blindly. I felt it necessary to write this article because vegetarians are often wrongly seen as peevish hippies, and the convention of eating meat is so entrenched in our tradition that I think sometimes we need to question it. It’s worth noting that I may revert to eating meat again, but these are my thoughts currently. Men are unusual and inconsistent creatures. It is perfectly acceptable in today’s world for me to decide that killing animals for meat is not murder, but if I made the same statement of humans I would certainly be annihilated by society for my dissension. We implicitly grant ourselves the right of life or death over those more frail than we, but revoke this right when applied to those of equal strength, reasoning and defence – other humans. What a strange state of affairs when the systematic imprisonment and killing of the defenceless is seen as preferable to that of the able. To me it has always seemed that picking on the weak is an act of cowardice. I am often reminded since assuming this vegetarianism that I am an animal too, and it’s natural for animals to eat meat. The advocates of such an argument will always omit that many wild animals have cannibalistic tendencies, a practice they decidedly do not want me to emulate. The parts of nature that support their eating habits are the only ones ever mentioned. Furthermore, most primates are naturally vegetarian. So it seems to me that this naturalistic argument is made in the hope that you will just accept that we are helplessly dependent on meat by nature, when actually many people live without ever having eaten meat. More important than all this, however, is the fact that an act being natural does not make it moral. This poor but common reasoning is referred to as an ‘appeal to nature’ or sometimes the naturalistic fallacy – you will often hear people denouncing homosexuality as immoral because they assert it is ‘unnatural’, as if that has any bearing on morality. Note that the people making these ‘it’s unnatural’ arguments have no problem with using laptops made from microchips that exceed our own intelligence, using machinery
to lift more than a human could or using an aeroplane to overcome our lack of ight. Nobody uses a naturalistic argument against this because technology is expedient, it makes life more enjoyable and less strenuous. Ceasing to eat meat does not. Arguments are too often made to support one’s own appetite rather than what is just. Moreover, it is my opinion that our intelligence does not grant us the right to impose death on a less-intelligent creature, just as Stephen Hawking’s intelligence gives him no right to impose death on you. If anything our intelligence confers not rights but responsibilities. We should have a responsibility to protect beauty in nature just as Stephen Hawking feels the responsibility to disseminate information to the inferior, ignorant and idiotic (that’s us). Our morality system is based entirely on one constant alone – man’s ascendancy. We grant ourselves the right to warp and distort nature like no other species, and then mock anyone who questions the practice. Just as we are the only species capable of destroying the world, we are also the only species capable of improving it beyond recognition, an opportunity we waste far too often. We assume we should be the moral arbiters of this world when we are precisely the species most susceptible to greed and bias. I feel I must address our odd way of governing our food system, highlighted conveniently by the recent horsemeat ‘scandal’. I use the term ‘scandal’ reluctantly because it is only through our own conventions and inconsistent opinions that eating horsemeat is taboo, there is nothing objectively different between eating that and beef. Of course being deceived by companies as to the contents of food is completely wrong, but I still think there is an underlying aversion to the concept of eating a horse that fuels this furore. How can I prove this? Well, imagine that lamb had been found in beef, not horse. The public reaction would undoubtedly be far more tepid, it would be seen as mislabelling and shady on the food industry’s part, but nothing more. It would be like Skips being found in a packet of Quavers, nobody would bat an eyelid. This is because we separate very clearly animals for eating and animals for keeping as pets, and I can think of very few exceptions to this rule. Again, we decide which animals get to be caged up and exterminated en masse, and which ones get to have birthday presents and sleep in the bed with us. This is, I think, because we essentially have an aversion to the idea of eating a corpse, and not having
to look at the animals while they’re alive helps us see the meat as simply food rather than part of a body. The poet Shelley knew this, and says in his essay A Vindication of Natural Diet that ‘the human race... applied re to culinary purposes; thus inventing an expedient for screening from his disgust the horrors of the shambles’. He contends that we have to cook meat, to put it in pies and such to allay our unease towards eating a body. I would agree, and I remember after saying how much I liked mackerel being unable to eat it when I was presented an entire sh with the head simply lopped off. There is great irony in the existence of the RSPCA and other such charities to protect pets when we do not treat other animals with the same respect – to an alien this would seem such a confusing state of affairs. So to summarise, eating meat highlights a lot of man’s hypocrisy, which we go from day to day without looking to question. However, at the moment I’m nding it difcult to know where to draw the line – in the few weeks I’ve not been eating meat, I’ve found most hard cheeses aren’t suitable for vegetarians (Parmesan for example, as it contains animal rennet), nor are many sweets like Haribos because of gelatine. At this rate I will be eating twigs and bark. Animal parts also end up in cosmetics and pharmaceuticals and many other things besides. Can you stop using them all? Then there is the problem of vegetarianism versus veganism. Milk production, for example, causes a lot of calves to be born for which there are no use; the male calves are often exterminated upon birth because they produce no milk and the market for veal is considerably smaller than the amount of calves the milk industry produces. Some will also be grown for beef but not a large percentage. So we would actually increase the amount of time these calves get to live by eating more veal or beef... Food for thought, I think. Part of me thinks that free range meat, and a lot less meat consumption overall, is a way forward. You lose a lot of the moral darkness and it’s hard to deny that these animals would not exist at all were it not for meat eaters driving demand. Perhaps it’s better to let an animal romp around in the elds for a few months than to never let it be born at all, I’m undecided. But what to me is irrefutably wrong is the way most meat is produced – the mass caging and sensory deprivation of literally billions of animals. At the moment it is simply easier for me to remove myself from the madness entirely.
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Want your brain broken? Watch this Channel 4
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Hayley Atwell waits for a phone call from her deceased husband in the incredibly chilling Be Right Back about bang on. Episode two, White Bear, provides the biggest mind-fuck moment of the series, what starts out as a fairly obvious tale about how we shouldn t live our lives through the lense of our iPhone, turns in to a powerful insight into the way violent criminals are treated in our society, without giving away too much, I was left at the end of the episode feeling sorry for a woman who lmed a child being burned alive. This is testament to the skill in which Brooker has created Black Mirror. The nal episode of the series, The Waldo Moment, holds the greatest relevance in today s world. A cartoon character, and its creator, nd themselves more popular and with more inuence than the political establishment. The disturbing parallel with the ongoing shambles that is the Italian general election is something that even Brooker could not have envisaged. Italians nd them-
selves in the crazy situation where comedian Beppe Grillo holds the sway of power between the two larger parties. He s basically our version of Nick Clegg except Grillo makes jokes while Clegg is one. The idea that the disconnect between politicians and public means that a comedian can win real political power just because he s not a politician, is a very scary one. Sure politicians don t always seem like real people, just robots that read from scripts, but what Brooker is trying to say is look past the gimmicks, they re not everything. Black Mirror episodes are fables for the modern age, that sounds ridiculously grandiose and pompous to type, but it s true and I can t think of any words that make that sound less posh and still do this series justice. Basically, just watch it, it s fucking brilliant and it makes you think in the right way, unlike most of the other shit that gets pumped out our black mirrors these days. Channel 4
ou know that feeling you get when you talk to someone who just gets it , and by it , I mean everything, generally? Nope, neither do I. That s because very few people seem to have the ability to really, and I mean really, see things for what they are. I ve never met one of these people but if you ve tuned in Channel 4 these last few weeks or logged onto 4 O.D, and watched even a single episode of Black Mirror then you ve had the pleasure of seeing the creation of someone who totally gets it . That someone, of course, is Charlie Brooker who you may know from Screenwipe or 10 O Clock Live. You know the one, with the oppy hair and sense of humor so harsh that his Wikipedia describes his comedic style as savage ? The impression I got of Brooker from his TV appearances, were of a man who ranted for the sake of ranting, funny for a bit, but after a while the content of the rants started to repeat and it quickly got boring. Black Mirror is not boring. It’s virtually impossible to dene what Black Mirror is about, and that s part of the charm. As Brooker describes it Each episode has a different cast, a different setting, even a different reality. But they re all about the way we live now and the way we might be living in 10 minutes time if we re clumsy. And if there s one thing we know about mankind, it s this: we re usually clumsy. Series one focused mainly on how we interact with gadgets and gizmos in our modern world, hence the title. Who hasn’t used their phone or computer screen as a mirror before? Series one is great, watch it, but for now lets focus on the recently released series 2. Episode one, Be Right Back, takes a chilling look at the way we live our lives through social media teamed with the idea that computer programs are becoming increasingly sophisticated and capable of replicating human thought. When the protagonist of the episode loses her partner, an opportunity arises to recreate her former partner using his Facebook and Twitter posts combined with a piece of software. Most of us have lost someone we love at some point in our lives, if you had the opportunity to have a chat to them again, a computer generated version, would you take it? Then again my social media recreation would just be drunken Facebook conversations with people I haven t spoken too for years and re-tweets of various premier league footballers, which is just
written by Robert Page
What are you? You re just an old attitude with new hair! The guy from the BT Advert takes on a slightly different role in the darkly satirical The Waldo Moment
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Monday 11th March 2013
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Yorkjack Wool Blazer, TED BAKER £299
Harriet Cross Body Bag, FRENCH CONNECTION £60
Ben Evans
Red Crepe Jacket with Gold Button, THE KOOPLES, £255
Written by Sophia Guilfoyle
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Clic Clac H Wide Bracelet in Powder Pink, HERMES
very girl deserves some luxury in her life and the best way to pamper yourself is a trip to the high-end of the high-street and the elusive designer shops (even if it s only window shopping!). Never think you have to spend a lot of money on your clothes to look good, but sometimes we just need to treat ourselves! Having a capsule wardrobe with only a handful of classic key pieces is a great way to keep your look classic and neat. As the end of our student lives is coming ever-nearer, it s not a bad idea to start investing in key pieces that will last you a lifetime. Alas for now, money holds us back, so let s just daydream for a little to appreciate these beautiful and somewhat unreachably luxurious clothes. Eleanor Calver shows off this TOPSHOP LBD which, paired with simple jewellery and statement heels, certainly creates an elegant and striking outt. Karen Millen are doing a very similar uid jersey dress in their latest spring range which shows that if you keep your eyes peeled you can grab some serious bargains as KM are relatively unaffordable – especially for a simple classic dress like this. I love this bright red jacket from Kooples, it is feminine, unique and denitely makes an impact. It is a feisty colour and will add a bit of sass to any outt. Every classy look needs the perfect accessories and this Clic Clac H Hermes bracelet is beautiful and understated, although unfortunately comes with a whopping price
tag, but similar models can be purchased for a little less online. FCUK’s Harriet Cross Body Bag is the perfect going-out bag, spacious enough to hold your most treasured possessions but not too big to be a hassle. It has a classic box shape and simple gold buckle that will stop it becoming outdated, and at only £60 who could resist? These Malono Blahniks are gorgeous, but obviously too pricey for any student. Eleanor has grabbed a high-street version for only a fraction of the price to glam up her wardrobe. Rob Wilson is looking dapper with the simple coupling of a crisp white shirt, blazer and jeans. He shows that dressing well really makes a difference. It is incredibly simple for men to develop their sophisticated look without spending huge amounts but the initial investment is vital. The checklist is; a well-tted suit, a blazer, a very white shirt, chinos, brogues and a belt – couldn t be simpler. This gorgeous Yorkjack wool blazer from Ted Baker is pretty pricey, but will give you many years of looking spruced up in return! Accessorises for men are just as important as for women, so invest in your belts and your shoes gentlemen (and keep them polished – it really makes a difference). Preferably don t suit up to come to campus unless you want to look like a MIC wannabe, but for the right occassion this dapper look is a sure-re way to win over the ladies! Models: Rob Wilson and Eleanor Calver
BB Glitter Pump Heel, MANOLO BLAHNIK
Amour Contrast Brogues, DUNE £85
Leather Belt, TED BAKER £40
Caleb Wheeler-Robinson
CRESCENT CHIC Caleb Wheeler-Robinson
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Monday 11th March 2013
bite
Sat in seat A25
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written by Holly Narey
T
he man in B25 looks like he is about to die. Pallid, gaunt, with an unhealthy sheen betraying the battle of conflicting temperatures within him, each breath he lets juddering out of his lungs is followed by a tense pause as all around him doubt slightly that it will ever be followed by another creaking inhalation. As he shuffled down the aisle, clutching his ticket and peering at it through what I seemed like a hazy fog of airborne bacteria, I had realised with dread that of course, he was for me. My commute is an experience I have carefully manipulated to make bearable; I have my laptop before me on the table, my coffee behind it to the left and croissant in line to the right. I buy my coffee, extra hot, five minutes before boarding. It warms my hand on the platform. When I get on the train it sits there, cooling, as I stare at my empty Word document. I blink slowly at it. The insertion point blinks back. I pick at my croissant, tearing strips off one at a time. Approximately fifteen minutes into my journey I allow myself a game of solitaire, and by then my coffee has cooled to a gentle warmth despite the efforts of the Styrofoam cup. It fights a losing battle, as do I. I drink my coffee, finish my scraps of pastry and icing sugar, disembark and walk the few hundred metres to my office, to my cubicle, where I will spend the day entering data, printing data, emailing data and shredding data. I will create nothing. I will leave work, stare at my laptop screen for another half hour on the journey home, creating nothing, and then will arrive to my empty flat and consume dinner, consume half a bottle of wine and consume some inane drivel on the television. I contribute nothing, I am a passive cog in the machinery of this city, being pushed by parts much stronger than I. The man falls into the seat opposite me, pulling a ream of tattered toilet paper out of his sleeve, mopping his forehead and then stemming the flow from his nose. Revolting. I shift my croissant towards me, away from the radius of his noxious breath. He breathes slurpily through his mouth and settles. I blink at him. He blinks out the window. The insertion point blinks at me. Each flash a reminder of the hours wasted in an inability to turn ideas into words on a page. My brain has atrophied, new links between neurones slowing to a stop, my mind is closing to new ideas. I should have done this writing when I was younger, when I could daydream for hours, now I have solitaire and writer s block. He sneezes. It is a thing of majesty. My eyes widen with horror at the sight of his recoil, knowing what will inevitably follow. His face, before so lifeless and flaccid, now tightens, his nose scrunching up towards his now screwed-up eyes, his head turning to face the ceiling. At the crest of the wave his mouth opens to reveal a look of misery and surprise, and then he leans forward, lifting his hand to stem the torrent that will surely follow. It is a noise to topple cities. The windows rattle. His old rags of tissues don t stand a chance, tattered loo roll flaps in the gale that is emitted from his nose and mouth. I feel droplets on my face, in my widened, terrified eyes. I give my croissant up for dead. My heart sinks; I know what is in store for me. My future is sat in front of me, mopping up mucous and humiliation. I want to scream at the injustice of it all; instead I get up, pack up my things (leaving the contaminated croissant and coffee) and move to the door as the train slows to my stop. I walk straight to the station toilets and scrub my hands, my arms, even my face. I take my laptop out of its case and wipe the cover with soap and dry it with paper towels. I stare into the mirror and breathe deeply, willing myself to fight the infection that in my fear I imagine I can already feel spreading through my veins and arteries, my nervous heart rate pumping
what I imagine as a slick black ooze through my body ever the faster. I pack up my laptop again and walk to work. I am a bag of nerves the rest of the day. I doodle on the desk, the fake wood texture beneath my paper distorting my pen movements. Stars turn into dancing men, with jerky triangular limbs, the faces I try to draw are warped to display unintended emotions. I feel myself clouding over. In my break I go to the bathroom and spend ten minutes staring at my face in the mirror, trying to work out whether I am actually going paler by the second, and if so whether it is due to anxiety or disease. The answer comes at lunch, when my tuna and sweetcorn sandwich re-emerges after a few short minutes. As I lift my face away from where it rests heavily on the edge of my bin, blinking away from the harsh office lights that seem to have taken on the ferocity of the sun, I vaguely register my boss stood over me. Jesus Christ, go home . I don t bother to respond. My coat is already on and I m stumbling towards the door. I don t even remember the journey home. The next thing I know I m sat at my desk in my flat, my laptop in front of me, searching for my symptoms to find out if I m dying. The internet, of course, says yes, but as it cries leukaemia and tumours for even the slightest headache I try to remain calm. As I read, I sneeze eight times in a row, I wipe the cold sweat from my brow and my streaming eyes, staunching a flow of ectoplasm impressive enough to thrill Victorian society. I feel like I am seeping ice out of every pore, this is more than the flu, my brain is fiery and frenzied in thought. Sufficiently terrified, I fill a jug of water, place it next to the bed, close the curtains (has the sun ever been so bright?) and collapse into bed. In the darkened room I feel as though I can almost see figures
coming out of the wall. I touch my forehead and the heat seems to burn my hand. I sleep. I wake. I have no idea how long I ve slept for, was it hours? It feels longer somehow, it s as though I remember time passing even though I was not actively participating in it; my head is clearer but I feel exhausted, drained, like someone has pulled a plug at the back of my brain. Oh my head is heavy. I am surprised to discover that I am sat upright, in a chair, not in the bed where I am sure I spent my fevered sleep. I can remember hazy dreams, people and places, harshly bright and gleamingly real. My hand is resting on the keyboard, typing full stops ad infinitum on my formerly blank Word document. I raise my hand to grip the mouse, every movement an effort. I ll delete all of this and leave it as it was, bring back the empty page that reflects my incapability of achieving anything of significance, it may as well be a list of my valuable achievements. Ha. I click and drag, selecting the lines of dots. Going through pages and pages of these taunting symbols of finality until words. On page eighty two I reach words. It is a story; beautifully written, touching and funny and real. In it I see hints of the things I almost remember from my fevered dreams, people and scenarios, along with ideas I had toyed with over the years in my hours of daydreaming at the office, things I would one day make into my masterpiece; my masterpiece that is right here sat before me at least some of it is. I sit and read from the start to the finish. Or rather, not the finish I read until the last sentence but it s clearly not the end. There is no resolution, no closure. It doesn t even work as a cliff-hanger. To be continued
Monday 11th March 2013
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11
Selected Poems by Nathan Hill On Dreams
To Knowledge
Diaphanous
There is a realm between these walls
Knowledge, thou citadel whose sacred walls
Of marble and of quartz,
Man s ignorance excoriates and flays,
An opalescent world of flame
Thou ancient source of light whose glow enthralls
In which there are no thoughts,
And yet repulses man in modern days,
Save those of fleeting, lucid joy
What happened to inquiry, and where lies
An insect on my desk did just alight, A fiery thing with mandibles to bite, Which force it made no use of, but instead It shuffled its gaunt wings in aching red. Diaphanous and brief the sight did seem, As if immersed in some recurrent dream Both too transcendent to attempt to frame Sufficiently, and yet it will not maim The vagrant wisp if, with words loose as breath, I postulate an augury for its death.
Which consciousness distorts.
Fair dialectic in these barren plains? How great the threat that man might atomise
In vain I seek it ev ry night, The majesty that indolence disdains! That world of surging bliss, To contravene each mote of his design Through whose entropic languidness Are not men creatures of a civil pact? Dark, seething thoughts do hiss. Have we become so base and so malign It seems profoundly frolicsome Necessity now breeds this mordant tract?
So what if while it sits there, quite inert, I planned to do the thing some mortal hurt? I could detach its legs and wings in turn, Or cast it in the fire and let in burn, Or smash its thorax while it was engrossed And watch those wings implode upon their host. I would not be impounded for these things, Though surely there was hid beneath those wings More beauty than in human toil does lie Why then should this thing be allowed to die? Have we the moral licence to ordain Perdition for a thing that bred no pain?
To be inert as this! To vitiate the legacy you leave Yet often still as dusk draws near Do I begin to weep, As sable haze begins to, then, In ev ry crevice creep.
Is far too simple
one has but to breathe.
Man s sapient and yet his greed denies That his composure differs from a fly s; Can man purport to be impelled alone By primal instinct? Then what else might groan Upon its aspect and condone its vice What else can look on its abhorrence twice? Exploiting with intent his own birthright, The cognizance of what is good and just, To quash all this with thoughts of his own plight Beneath his own transgressions mankind s crushed.
O! That I must submit my soul To that foul beast named Sleep!
While hornets stings are fleeting in their throes, Man s putrefaction shears all that which grows.
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Monday 11th March 2013
bite
Live Reviews
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written by Connor Morton
written by Robert Wilson Braden F
Drenge/Deep Vally
Man Alive!
Tim Burgess
omedia had a rather different feel to the usual Bath concert for Tim Burgess recent headline show. The crowd was mostly comprised of older people, no students want to spend money on a Sunday night, and as such the Disco ball above the stage seemed rather tting. It wasn’t like any gig I’d been to before; I’m far more used to rowdy drunks spilling beer and sweat on me. The Support band, Hatcham Social dragged themselves onstage, said nothing and began playing. Big Jeff, the staple visitor to every Bath and Bristol gig that s worth its salt, assumes his position and dances alone in front of the stage. Their music was kind of like a drearier Echo and the Bunnymen. The lead singer wandered around the stage randomly, spending a lot of time not facing the crowd, but as usual, the drummer was mad for it. Before the 3rd song, some funky beats started- but then back to same dreary shoegazer stuff; Probably would be nice to listen to on an Ipod, but their lack of charisma meant the sound didn’t quite carry on to the live stage. They left as quickly and quietly as they appeared, not saying a word and just drifting off. It almost seemed like they didn’t really they enjoy being there at all. After the interval, Tim Burgess comes on and immediately grabs everyone s attention. He says hello, giggles and then sets up a stand with a book with the lyrics to his songs on which I’m pretty sure is cheating. His music was a cool combination of country and poppy rock and it was pretty nice to listen to on a calm Sunday night. Tim was denitely more of a showman than Hatcham Social (who actually were Tim s band minus Tim.) They played their set, then encore time came, the crowd was far less aggressive in their demand for an encore than other gigs,(though Tim was no less deserving) and Tim shot out again. The encore was another chilled out piece and got the audience singing along which was a nice way to end the evening. All in all Tim was great, but Hatcham Social were a bit too somber. Although I guess that did make Tim all the better.
renge are a two piece rock outt consisting of brothers Eoin and Rory Loveless more used to peddling their unique brand of indie/grunge music in the dark streets of Shefeld than anywhere this far south, but their current tour of duty took them to Thekla in Bristol and bite was there to cast it’s cultured, omniscient ear over the proceedings. What rst strikes you about his duo is the colossal sound Eoin conjures from his guitar which immediately makes you wonder why bands ever have any more than two members? Their sound is as complete as any quartet I’ve ever witnessed with Rory’s industrious drumming creating a framework around which the anthemic riffage is formed. “Bloodsports” is a celebration of overdrive and attitude, while the sensational “I wanna break you in half” has been compared to the sounds of the sanctied entity that is Black Sabbath, and any band that earns itself that accolade is denitely worth looking into. Next on the bill is another twosome of slightly further aeld, Deap Vally hail from Los Angeles USA, with Lindsey Troy producing frankly outstanding vocals, while Julie Edwards thunders away behind a drumkit. The all-girl duet create their own brand of primal bluesy rock, such as the sensational “End of the world” which really showcases the genuine talent this band has, also evident in “Gonna make my own money”, which really is one of my favourite songs at the moment. Their sound has a denite White Stripes kind of feel to it, and their American roots denitely shine through but this just makes it all the more disappointing when their live act didn t match the calibre of the performances on their recorded tracks. That’s not to say it wasn’t enjoyable, Lindsey produced the same tumultuous vocals, Julie harmonised fantastically and the drumming was extremely tight but where the show fell down was the guitar. I am undecided as to the cause of this, however following the mammoth sound of Drenge probably didn t help. Throughout most of the gig there were requests for more guitar to the sound tech to no noticeable avail. It just seemed thin and insubstantial compared to the rest of their sound and in this case you couldn t help but wonder if it would have been remedied by another guitarist? Overall it was a good performance but it was just missing that certain something that could have made it great, and lacked the cacophonous wall of sound that was Drenge.
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A brief guide to concert etiquette written by Alex Philpotts
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tiquette isn t solely reserved for arranging cutlery and conspicuously unnecessary small talk at congested corporate networking events. It certainly isn’t something that can be thrown out the window because you’ve donned a polo instead of a dickie bow. Etiquette applies right the way down to holding the door open for a lady, or avoiding eye contact in a crowded lift at any cost. Gigs are a part of that side of our culture. I was at Brixton academy last weekend (brag over) and knowing I would be writing this article, I picked out a few examples to hammer home my point. First up: Mosh pits. For the sake of fairness, I should clarity that the need for a mosh pit in any scenario is utterly beyond me. Never have I paid £30 upwards to get into a gig and thought: “Finally, an opportunity to cave my mates’ faces in with my elbows”. If you’re willing to pay that much, but the band in front of you can’t keep you entertained effectively enough to keep you from bloodletting, then you need to nd another past-time. Away from sharp objects. Saying that, mosh pits can be done properly – in a circle at the front of the crowd, where you can hurl your friends at one another without risk of exposing innocents to your clammy appendages. If you’re at the front then fair enough, but if you’re towards the back of the gig and hurling your body weight about like a concussed orangutan, there’s a good chance you’ll clatter a stranger around the back of the head, which is somewhat of a social faux pas.
So what then, do you do at a gig if not jovially assault your fellow music lovers? The norm is to bounce up and waving devil horns in the air like a demented giraffe, which is thankfully less ridiculous when seen en masse than individually. Crowds have a way of normalizing the bizarre. When you’re doing the jungle shufe, however, there are still a few common decencies you’d be courteous to follow. Biggest among those are the ones you d be expected to follow in your day to day comings and goings. For example, at said Brixton academy event, the frontman got a bit adventurous and clambered up on to the fence separating the crowd from the main stage. Unfortunately the guy who happened to be at the fence directly in front of him was so unfathomably stoned that he presumably mistook the rather rowdy man with the microphone as some sort of predator, and threw his pint in his face. Charming, but nobody really gave it much thought. There is no easy way to track down an individual moron in a crowd of several thousand, and for that exact same reason seemingly half of the crowd had lit up fags, joints, pipes and other smoking paraphernalia to the extent that the centre of the stalls smelt like Pete Doherty and Noel Fielding threw a garden party in their shed. There really aren’t many things I’d ask of people at a gig that size, particularly when you’re paying that much. Just please, if you’re going to light up and dick about like a fourteen year old, do it behind the bike sheds with the rest of them?
Monday 11th March 2013
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The Guide benzpics
bite meets...
That Joanna Bradshaw TG: First up, can you tell us a little bit about yourself and your EP? JB: I m Joanna, a recent Sociology and Social Research graduate from the University of Bath and I release music under the name of ‘That Joanna Bradshaw’. I’m releasing my rst EP, ‘As Promised…’, on the 11th March and the type of music that I play is acoustic/folk and it tries to tell stories through the music from my experiences and it s meant to try and help others who might have been in a similar situations. I ve been writing songs since the age of 10 and I ve just always loved music, I did a lot of choir and musical theatre when I was younger and now I write my own songs. You are straight up lying if you do not want to make sweet, sweet love to Brian Fallon for the rest of time
Music
TG: What was the recording process?
The Heavy, Tuesday 19th March at Komedia, Bath. Tickets: £10
Film
JB: I worked with a producer named Andy Cooke who also runs the Bath Open Mic Nights here. He’s a lovely guy and we worked on it all together.
Gangs Of Wasseypur: Part 1, from Monday 11th March, 20:00 at Little Theatre, Bath. Tickets: £5.50
TG: What would you say have been your main inuence?
The Heavy return to their hometown to bring a measure of classic rock and neo soul to Bath. Characterised by crunching guitars and the use of horns, this is certainly not to be missed.
Two and a half hour long epic from director Anurag Kashyap that documents the gang wars that have gripped India since the 1960 s.
JB: I guess I ve always listened to people like Adele and Damien Rice who tell stories and try to make the most out of bad situations by writing songs and get something good out of it.
Stornoway, Thursday 21st March at Komedia, Bath. Tickets: £13.00
Acoustic Routes (RE: 2013), from Monday 11th March, 17.45 at Little Theatre, Bath. Tickets: £5.50
TG: You ve also got Skinny Love, any reason why?
Indie folk rockers from Crowley bring their soothing mix of strings, guitars and keys to Bath in support of their brand new album Tales from Terra Firma.
Originally made as a BBC documentary in 1992, this acclaimed lm from writer-director Leman has now been reedited to include extra performance footage of its subject, folk legend Bert Jansch. Acoustic routes provides a fascinating history of the fertile British folk scene of the 1960s and beyond and includes performances from Jansch, Wizz Jones and many more.
The Gaslight Anthem, Thursday 22nd and Friday 23rd March at O2 Academeny Bristol. Tickets: £23.50 After releasing the absolutely stunning Handwritten in 2012, The Gaslight Anthem return to the UK after a string of sold out shows at the end of last year. Expect massive chorus , screaming vocals and a classic rock n roll feel along with some deeply personal lyrics that show why Brian Fallon is one of the best songwriters of his generation.
Lore, from Monday 11th March, at O2 Academeny Bristol. 15.15 at Little Theatre, Bath. Tickets: £5.50 Director Cate Shortland tackles a tough subject in considering the way Germans coped with their defeat in World War Two through the eyes of a 15 year old girl forced to care for her younger siblings.
JB: Skinny Love is just one of my favourite songs, and lyrically it s just beautifully haunting. It s also kind of my boyfriend and I s song, so that’s also kind of why I picked it for my rst EP. You ve also got a big launch party for it coming up in Bath haven t you? Could you tell us about that? JB: It’s on the 16th of March and it’s from 8pm to 11pm. Free admission, so I really want people to come because it s the more the merrier really. It s at Jikka Jikka which is on George Street. There s live music throughout the evening from artists such as Lily Stokes, Andy Cook, DJ B and his girls, and Carousels and Cuisines who have also just released their EP and they’re a fantastic band, so I highly recommend coming down.
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Monday 11th March 2013
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The norms of robo-fetishism humanstatuebodyart
written by bite’s sex columnist
I would caption this, but then how much more of a mental picture do you need?
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et s face it - sexual deviances and fetishes have been around since shagging began. However, it s always been on the sly and has been kept in specialist clubs in basements or behind closed doors (just leave your keys in the bowl). But since the emergence of the overly hyped 50 Shades of Grey trilogy, people have started to become more open to sexual fetishism and exploring their own fantasies, and have become a lot more frank about it. Since when, before this literary phenomenon, were we passing a porno book - that we may or may not have strummed one out to on to our grandma? But the usual sado-masochism kink is slowly fading out. People want something new; they want to update their sexual fetishes as much as they download the new software for their iPhones. But sex is natural, right? It involves two humans, two sexual organs (or more, if that’s your thing) and everyday penis to vagina? Not anymore. The new BDSM is, lo and behold, robo-fetishism or technosexuality. Technological advances have not just happened outside of the bedroom, oh no. This is a fetishistic attraction to humanoid robots or people dressed in robot costumes. It stems from a former website alt.sex.fetish.robots which has led to a common use of the term ‘ASFR’, referring to the need to fuck a made-up robotic creature. And you thought you were being kinky tying your girlfriend to your wardrobe! These robot-lovers prefer to appear by the term Technos and, if it s not pushing your buttons yet, don t worry - this isn t just about having sex with robots who look completely like humans. There’s been a trend towards the more supercial and robotic looking robots as well. Sounding any better? There are websites devoted to these fetishes, such as FemBot.org - an online dating website with approximately 75 per cent of people posing as robots. Want to know how to sexy-talk with robots? If a robot is pumping iron , he s masturbating over you. Turned on yet? Why don t you put in your hard-drive... We could go on and on about how badly you need to replace your battery or ‘Mac’ someone’s behind, but the real amazement behind this fetish is how the world and technology is literally adapting to our every need. Not only can we tell our houses to turn off the lights for us, we now also live in a world where we can use technology to turn things on... Relationships, too, and technology can combine - so much so that we no longer need any human interaction. These Techno dating websites have more and more members each day and are vastly growing and improving as technology improves around us. Are we heading for a world where we no longer have to persuade our girlfriends that sex will cure her headache, as we can just go and shag a robot instead? Where we aren t forced into the obligatory post-coital spooning? And is that a good thing? That said, the idea of turning off someone after you ve banged them is rather appealing...
Agony Aunts Lucy and Edie Dear Lucy and Edie,
Dear Lucy and Edie,
I recently left my laptop open on the kitchen table when I went to pee and came back to nd a couple of my atmates looking at my internet history. It’s fair to say that I spend a lot of my time watching porn and I have to admit that I’m quite particular when it comes to getting turned on. I have a really strong fetish for Formicophilia, which involves the use of insects during sex and I also get really turned on by Mucophilia, which, as it sounds, relates to arousal by mucus. Having once attempted to share my interest in these fetishes during a ‘LAD’s’ conversation, I’ve come to realise how odd and ‘gross’ they are to some people. I thought I was just kinky, but my atmates have been really rude about it all and one of the girls made a comment about leaving her u-lled tissues outside my room for me to ‘enjoy’.
I’ve heard that kinky is the new normal. I don’t currently have any fetishes (as far as I know?) but wondered if you could give me the rundown of which ones to avoid! I don’t want to risk looking like a tool in front of my new girlfriend... Phil
Dear Phil,
No worries, we ve all been there! Ha, NOT! Learn to delete your browsing history upon exit! If you re that much of a keen bean-icker, you’ll be able to nd your favourite fetish videos easily without having to go back through your history or bookmarks. Keep your head high: as long as everything is consensual and legal, you shouldn t feel guilty about enjoying weird , non-mainstream things. Your atmates might just be making things awkward because they secretly share your fantasies and are too ashamed to admit it. Shock them completely by calling their bluff. Next time they make a joke about you getting turned on by ants, why not make a point of showing them just how turned on you get? I m sure the sight of you enjoying snotty tissues will make them a) shit themselves b) be freaked out and awkward enough to pretend the internet-history-situation never occurred and c) wonder what they re missing out on.
You should feel very lucky. We ve reopened the archives of sexual deviance and have come up with a list of fetishes that present problems and the reasons why they should be avoided: • Feet. Need we say anymore? Not only are feet totally gross, but they’re also just weird. Bunions, ingrown toenails and athlete s foot are all reasons why you should leave the sucking to women. In a totally feminist way, of course. • Being bound to the bed. This may sound like fun, but try explaining to your lecturer that you missed your class exam because you were... tied up. Not a good situation to be in, even if they look like they d enjoy it themselves. • Handcuffs. The tiny key that accompanies them can get lost so easily during the throes of passion. They really need to make them huge and glow-in-the-dark... Damn you, Ann Summers! • Leather is a pretty popular fetish. Apparently. The problems include: overheating; the ability of the leather to shrink rapidly, regardless of whether or not you re wearing it, and the general smell, unless of course you have a thing for equestrian stables as well? We ve all seen that episode of Friends where Ross gets stuck in his ‘cowboy pants’. Ain’t nobody got time for that shit. • Asphyxia. Arguably one of the most common fetishes, this involves near-strangulation/ choking of your partner in order to stimulate sexual arousal. It s often hard to judge just how far you can go with this though, and there have been cases of people dying as a result of over-eagerness in the bedroom. Best avoided unless you want to add ‘necrophilia’ to your list of fetishes, too.
Have fun! Lucy and Edie
Stay (and play) safe! Lucy and Edie
What do I do?! Anna
Dear Anna,
Monday 11th March 2013
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Classic Vegetarian Options written by Lily Morris
One of the best things about vegetarian cooking is that it tends to be cheaper than using meat, and it’s a lot more difcult to poison yourself when you’re not using meat!
Roger s Curry
Risotto My mum always used to cook this but she had a special pan, and used special risotto rice. You don t need to promise! Just measure about a third of a cup of normal long-grained white rice per person into a large saucepan, and add a cup of water per person, a stock cube, and whatever accompaniments you want tofu chunks, frozen vegetables, or mushrooms, for example.
This is based on a recipe my school cook showed all the year 13s before we left, but with my own changes.
1 3 5
Heat a tablespoon of oil in a saucepan, and add half a chopped onion, a portion of frozen Quorn chicken-style pieces, and a teaspoon of curry powder, cooking them lightly until the onion pieces are soft.
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Stir, and simmer for 5-10 minutes. Because you’re using Quorn rather than chicken, you don t need to worry about it being cooked or not.
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Add a teaspoon of plain our, 150 ml of water, enough frozen peas to satisfy your hunger, and a stock cube.
Simply stir over a medium heat until most of the water has been absorbed into the rice or evaporated. I like to add paprika and garlic as well.
avlxyz
Put a portion (usually half a packet) of microwave rice into a microwave-safe bowl, and heat it for the amount of time on the packet.
While it’s cooking, stir 50ml crème fraiche or natural yoghurt into your curry, to make it deliciously creamy.
Hand-made Pasta When you want to go all out and impress your hot date, handmade pasta is the way to go. You have to leave it to rest at various stages, so start at least three hours before your date arrives.
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Better Than Toast
Simply create a mountain with 200g strong white our (ideally 00, which the Italians use) on a clean countertop, and break two eggs into a well on the top of it.
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3
Gradually mix the our and eggs together until you ve got a single lump (you can also do this in a food processor). Knead the ball until it is smooth and silky – then wrap it completely in cling lm and leave in the fridge to rest for at least half an hour.
You ll need a large, clean, work surface for the next step rolling out. You ll go mad if you try to roll all in one go, so take an applesized chunk of dough, and roll it out with your trusty rolling pin. You may need to dust the surface and pin with the lightest amount of our to prevent sticking. You want the sheet of pasta to be as thin as you can possibly make it aim for thinner than a beer mat. Cut the pasta into whatever shape you want tagliatelle are ribbons about a centimetre wide, and possibly the easiest shape to make, though farfalle, or bows, look really impressive and spread out to dry for at least an hour.
When your date has arrived, get a large saucepan of boiling water onto the hob the Italians use one litre of water per person and put a drizzle of oil (to stop the pasta sticking to itself) and your pasta in. Beware, fresh pasta cooks in only two to three minutes so move fast from now on!
4 5 Mickey Destro
kyz
Prepare an accompaniment to the pasta chop up a handful of cherry tomatoes, and mix with basil, olive oil, and mozzarella.
When the pasta is cooked al dente not too soft, it should stick to a wall if you throw it at one drain it and tip your tomato and cheese mixture in. Stir to melt the mozzarella slightly, and serve.
16
Monday 11th March 2013
bite
Puzzle Corner Across 4. It used to be considered rude to wear black tie to an event where these people are present (5) 7. When is it acceptable to admit knowing a Welshman? (5) 8. What you demand to initiate a duel (12) 9. You stand on this side on an escalator (5) 10. Originally a sign that you were carrying no weapons; now a greeting or sign of agreement (9) 13. Our national pastime (7) 14. Where your napkins belong (3) 16. How you address the queen the second time you see her (4) 18. Term used for a very proper woman (4) 20. Children should be seen and not ? (5) Down 1. The go-to topic of conversation for the English (7) 2. Minding your Ps and Qs (10) 3. The modern, proper term for BBC English (8,13) 5. You should not have these on the table when you re dining (6) 6. Singing off a letter to someone whose name you don t know (10) 11. Arriving on time (8) 12. You do this to show appreciation for your meal in some Asian cultures (4)
bathimpact.tumblr.com
Horoscopes
Pisces
February 20 - March 20
Getting your standard John Terry is a massive dickbag horoscope out of the way early this week... John Terry is a massive dickbag
Aries
March 21 - April 20 Everyone super cares about what you think and you should totally run for SU Officer and do lots of important stuff... oh wait, THIS IS NOBODY S HOROSCOPE
Taurus
April 21 - May 20
But seriously, they re largely ceremonial positions that use up your student loan
Gemini May 21 - June 20 15. The direction in which you should tip the bowl when eating soup (4) 17. A simpler way of saying this week s theme (7) 19. This is the correct direction to pass the port (4)
Kakuro
Sudoku
The object of a Kakuro is to insert a digit from 1 to 9 into each white cell so that the sum of the numbers in each row or column matches the clue associated with it (above or to the left of the row or column). No digit can be duplicated in any sum. Enjoy!
Just ask yourself, what would lil Wayne do?
Leo
Cancer
June 21 - July 21 A++ Would bang
July 22 - August 22
Meh, C+, maybe after a few drinks
Virgo
August 23 - September 22
The stars have decided you don t deserve a horoscope this week Virgo, mostly because I m lazy, but also so that you can think about what you ve done. Naughty Virgo, very bad Virgo
Libra
September 23 - October 22
Bridges
Yes. We. Can! Vote R.O.N 2013. For change we can believe in
Scorpio
October 23 - November 21
You ve been feeling a tingling sensation recently Scorpio, like there’s a re burning inside you and anything could happen. Congratulations, someone s got chlamydia!
Sagittarius
November 22 - December 21
You are human tennis elbow, you are a pizza burn on the roof of the world s mouth. You are the opposite of Batman. Unless you get this reference of course
Capricorn
December 22 - January 20
People often say that you have awfully poor manners and your etiquette leaves a lot to be desired, but it s not your fault you re welsh
Aquarius Scorpio January 21 - February 19
October 23 - November 21
Darius N. www.gonescribbling.tumblr.com
If you made it this far Aquarius I admire you, I clearly Are you guys still seriously reading these? I gave gave up about 6 issues ago. Have a sticker up weeks ago