EXETERA
A New Magazine For Exeter University September Online Launch Edition
E X E T E R A Satire/Comment/Parody/Wit/Flow Charts/Slashes/Reviews Founder/Editor-in-Chief Max Benwell Design Nicholas Rowland Creative Harry Kilpatrick Copy Tom Murray Features Gabrielle Allfrey Culture Adriana Spence Lifestyle Rachael Morris & Kitty Dwyer Sports! Alex Chadwick
Contributors James Blaszkowski Chloe Hajnal-Corob Duncan Head Christopher Hitchens Abi Jenkins Tom Oberst Chris Shannon Alex Wynick
CONTENTS AFRICA p.6 TV SEX p.8 TERRORISM p.10 FIRE & MUSIC p.12 RICHARD III p.14 USAIN BOLT p.18 HOROSCOPES p.20 EVERYTHING ELSE - EVERYWHERE ELSE
WHICH EXETER CLUB ARE YOU? Do you play in a sports team or are attracted to those who do? No
Yes
Do you value your personal space while dancing?
Do you enjoy inappropriate nudity?
Do you enjoy fancy dress?
Yes
No Yes
Yes
No
No Yes
Arena
For some reason, JagerBombs just make your clothes feel so restricting. And when you put in as much gym time as you do, you feel you ought to share the wealth. They'll probably play the Baywatch theme at your funeral
No
Have you ever failed an exam because you spent too much time at the gym? No
Have you ever worn an item of clothing "ironically"?
Do you regularly drink VK/WKD?
Yes
Do you expect university to be like a hilarious anecdote from Truelad.com?
No
Yes
No Yes
Mosaic
The only place in the world where it's acceptable to drink alcopops as a young adult. Mosaic will be your dream come true. The dance floor gets so crammed that you can sniff people's hair without them noticing- we know you like that.
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Timepiece
You'll love TP Wednesday almost as much as you love protein. TP is your hunting ground for your very own sports man/woman, and if you get tired of the hunt, there's meat at hand to revive you.
Rococo's
You're as fresh as they come and as the Thursdays @ Rococo's Facebook page states, you share "A Common Interest–Sexuality." This is your go-to club for a fresher's year of embarrassing one-night stands, and isn't that what it's all about?
Cavern
You are a beacon of individuality in a sea of mundanity, and your reputation precedes you. Unfortunately, everyone else thinks you're a knob. You'll really find yourself here.
#1
BOOKS THAT WILL MAKE YOU LOOK COOL AROUND CAMPUS
Anti-Intellectualism in American Life (1963) is the perfect accompaniment for the style-conscious student who wants not only to educate themselves about the campaigns against the learned mind throughout America's history, but also cultivate a cool, intellectual aura whilst doing so. In AIAL Hofstadter argues that anti-intellectualism, rather than being a 'constant thread' throughout American history, has been 'a force fluctuating in strength from time to time and drawing its motive power from varying sources', pointing to the rise of the Evangelical movement during the late 19th century ('The Religion of the Heart') as well as the belief held by many Americans that intellect and expertise are incompatible with business and politics, and the general mistrust held by the masses, who saw its elitist tendencies as being against the principles of an egalitarian and democratic republic. ProS: Cool/Well-Designed Cover, Slightly obscure (won the Pulitzer but half a century ago), high potential to make its reader look intellectual (the clue is literally in the title). Cons: People might think you're American.
Did You Know, That... John Major refereed the 1978 Champion's League final? In 1994, when asked whether she existed, Delia Smith said no? Ross Kemp married Rebekah Brooks? Jeremy Clarkson once flew a car? John Prescott was a champion bodybuilder? JK Rowling has only ever read the collected letters of Franz Kafka? Pierce Brosnan auditioned for City of God? Uri Gellar once tried to have children? While married to Brooks, Ross Kemp was the victim of domestic abuse?
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TIME FOR AFRICA?
F
rom time to time on a Wednesday evening outside the Cavern in Exeter’s bustling city centre, you can find a charming man selling the Big Issue to drunk, unsuspecting students. He starts his sell with light conversation, up until the point where you are certain you are great friends. Then, with all the subtlety of Strauss-Khan in a New York hotel room, he begins his magazine pitch. It’s a very good strategy. One evening I found myself talking to this man for rather longer than I would have liked on the topic of Africa. He asked me where I was from, Zimbabwe I replied, and waited for the usual reaction of silence, a slight look of pity, followed by “Ohh okay…Cool”. “Oh really?” He said, “My exgirlfriend is from Malawi.” I have no doubt that as a fine purveyor of hard-hitting journalism he was simply engaging me in polite conversation about my “continent”, relating to it in the only way he knew how. Perhaps my thought process should have been thus: oh, he has had an African girlfriend, he is a friend to my people and a friend to me, I shall buy his Big Issue and invite him round for tea sometime. But instead it went like this: you knew an African person once, well done; I’m going to get another drink now. The truth is, this man didn’t actually say anything remotely offensive and was merely trying to find familiar ground on which to base a conversation, which is a completely normal thing to do. It made me think about the singular identity that Africa has here in the West, and how we “Africans” are so often given one nationality.. If you were to tell a woman from Zimbabwe that you were from Wales,
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would you expect them to tell you that they once had a Ukrainian boyfriend? Even last year, when the world cup was held in South Africa, the voice of “Africa” was a Colombian. Flailing her legs about like a “true African” she sang “It's Time for Africa”. Is it really Shakira? Personally, I’m not sure if a Colombian woman singing predominately English has the best credentials to sing that song. It was essentially harmless but showed much of what is wrong with the West’s relationship with Africa. The people from the continent that the song is supposedly for were reduced to backing singers and dancers in a frankly ridiculous production. Why FIFA didn’t think to employ an actual African is beyond me. In J-lo’s recent hit “On the Floor” she lists a number of cities where she would like to “dance the night away”, including London, New York and, um, Africa. Yep. She is going to party it up not only in all the major cities of the world but then going to all of Africa. It is the habitual simplicity with which the 54 countries in the African continent are referred to that is frustrating. For many it seems that Africa is still limited to one monolithic idea of children with swollen bellies whose lives are complete when they get a glass of water or are given a book. It is also regularly portrayed as one disaster after another – war, famine, political corruption and poverty being all the average person seems to know about this large continent. And as long as it is seen as one big Oxfam advert or a vague amalgamation of mud huts and corrupt politicians, that is all it will be. What is really damaging is that it is
Words: Gabrielle Allfrey never allowed to be more than a sad story that we hear about on Red Nose Day and then forget for another year. Most people have no knowledge and no exposure to the diversity and wonders that can be found in the African continent. Even at Exeter University, top ten in the country for International Relations, there are very few modules that focus on Africa. One looks at its politics, yet is a single masters that only focuses on the North and is taught separately in the Middle Eastern and Arabic Studies department. For undergraduates, one of the only chances to study Africa resides within the History department. Here, if you choose to study the two African modules that the department offers, you will either learn about the continent's history of mass-colonisation by various nations, or its popular culture in a module called 'African Modernities: Popular Cultures in Twentieth Century Africa'. I don't doubt that this is an interesting and well-taught class, but keeping in mind that Africa is larger than the USA, Japan, India, China, and all of Europe combined, would there ever be a module that looks at all of their popular cultures across the short span of an entire century? I think not. It seems the continent has been forgetfully lost in a suitably named whitewashing of its identity. So the next time you go to put on that questionable Shakira song, or meet someone from Somalia and start rambling on about the lives you touched during your gap year in Mozambique, at least think about what you are going to say or just don’t say anything, I implore you.
Features In J-Lo’s new hit she lists a number of cities where she would like to “dance the night away”, including London, New York and, um, Africa. BELGIUM
NETHERLANDS
PORTUGAL SWITZERLAND FRANCE
SPAIN
GERMANY
ITALY EASTERN EUROPE
USA INDIA INDIA (PT. 2)
CHINA
CHINA (PT. 2)
UK
JAPAN
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The True Size of Africa Credit: Kai Krause
Puns, Lies and Videotape
TOM MURRAY DISSECTS OUR TELESEXUAL HABITS Welcome to Exeter. One of the universally acknowledged truths about the university is the number of fucking puns you will have to endure. “Exetera” was an inevitability which, this time entertainingly, raises questions of pronunciation — is it the bastard child of “etcetera” and “extra”? Or, perhaps more appropriately, the Holland Hallesque “Exeter-rah”? You decide. One that you will no doubt hear is “Sexeter”. And the best example of what apparently represents the youthfully vibrant sexualities of us students, can be found on YouTube. I recently noticed that one of their consistently recommended dishes was Channel 4’s The Joy of Teen Sex – I eventually gave in and indulged (in watching the programme, that is) and discovered why the rest of society despises us. The opening sequence asserts that by the age of 16, “the average teenager has slept with 3 people”, which not only goes against governmental statistics but also another enlightening piece of Channel 4 pseudo-porn, Virgin School, which states that “18 is the average age a man loses his virginity”. Following this piece of misinformation in every intro, is an excerpt from an interview with half a brain attached to a penis, who estimates that he has slept with, “I don’t know, around a hundred and ten, a hundred and twenty females.” Now I’m surprised that anyone who refers to a girl as a “female” has had sex, but nonetheless, in his (missionary) position at the start of the episode, he becomes an ambassador for our generation — a generation for which “sex can be the most important thing”, apparently. 8 Exetera // September Online Edition
What follows is not much better, but no less titillating. Each episode is structured around the premise of several problems waiting to be solved — an A-Team/Power Rangers “baddie of the week” formula, except the baddies here are dildos and premature ejaculation. These problems are solved by team of all-female “experts” (or “sexperts”, as any Exeter-trained PR would no doubt put it) who dispense “frank and honest advice”. So, a bit like your GP then, except without the arbitrary requirements of education and/or medical training. Apart from one doctor who worryingly presents surgery as the first option for a girl with low self-esteem; the experts' expertise when it comes to sex seems to be merely having a lot of it (excluding the whale acting as the series' relationship specialist, who merely wishes she was having a lot of it). One episode featured the most depressing diplomat for the rest of us: a girl named Sarah. Sarah was deeply concerned about the appearance of her vagina — it had something to do with the fact that it looked like a vagina. Mercifully, we never saw it. To concisely convey her problem, she was shown posing next to a dirty wall, upon which the words “i hate my vagina” (sic) were superimposed. I’m baffled as to why lower case text is necessarily more fashionable nowadays. It shouldn’t carry connotations of chic — just idiocy, pretentiousness and possible learning difficulties. Although occasionally redeemed by the endearingly naïve (like a lesbian politely inquiring on how to be a lesbian), the rest of the test subjects blended into one boring blur, most interviews
Features Sarah was deeply concerned about the appearance of her vagina – it had something to do with the fact that it looked like a vagina. sullied with degenerates who wear hats indoors and sunglasses at night, or both simultaneously. The inevitable consequence of watching such a programme about sex is that your capacity for seeking euphemisms is heightened to Carry On levels. Hence, innocent phrases like “that [advice] is a nice angle to take it from” and “[that conversation] filled the void” provide just as much as entertainment as the gay couple that look scarily similar. To rouse, but not quite arouse the viewer, occasional lines like “welcome to my wall of male genitalia” abound. Then, real people with real problems suddenly appear with their real male genitalia. In The Joy of Teen Sex, things get real quite quickly. Like Channel 4’s other visceral offering, Embarrassing Bodies, I can’t understand why these people choose to go on TV. The only explanation I can think of in this case is that they’re all failed Skins actors looking to advance their showreel by doing something to do with sex. And the only reason I can see why they are having so much sex is because they’re cold – the only things they wear are neon vests from Topman and condoms. Although, the latter – rarely, it seems. If, like me, you’re my age, then this sort of thing is supposed to appeal to you. With its glut of sweaty, throbbing programmes, Channel 4 now nightmarishly proclaims itself as the sex education arbiter — rather than the Great British model of embarrassed parents, embarrassed teachers, the Internet and friends with older sisters. We, and to a marginally lesser extent the rest of the country, hold television as being some sort of authority figure. But let’s face it — when it comes to authority figures, the BBC is be the closest thing to a stern yet responsible
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matriarch, whilst Channel 4 is that drunk uncle who touched you at your eighth birthday party as your inbred cousin (Channel 5) watched. Last summer, I found myself making tea and puns for Jon Snow at ITN — where everyone seemed resigned to the fact that they would be perpetually denied the portion of the license fee they needed. Now I know the reason why. It’s Sarah’s vagina. All this fits into a wider narrative — for Sarah’s vagina is the reason why noone takes young people seriously. It is the reason why no one important cares about students who wave protesting placards and shout about the government — because whenever anyone in authority sees that same neon Topman vest in the crowd, they automatically rescind any sympathy and remember that we’re actually an inane orgy of egomaniac nymphomaniacs. And, happily fed on a torrent of smut, we believe this to be true. We are tempted to forget that there were other films this summer in-between The Inbetweeners and Explosions And Rosie Huntington-Whitely’s Arse: The Movie, and we are subconsciously seduced into caring more about the appearance of our labia than Libya. I have enough faith in my generation that I won’t believe these people actually exist, at least not in the bacterial quantities portrayed. So I’m not going to end on an entirely desultory, didactic note. By all means have sex. Wear a sheet of cling-film to the Safe Sex Ball. Just don’t make your sex drive your existential drive, or tell the rest of the country about it. In conversation, please don’t tack an S onto the name of your university/temporary hometown — and in doing so, make you, and the rest of us, appear to be mentally retarded. Oh and Sarah, it’s probably fine.
The Misanthropic Terrorist
“For an animal, egoism is a virtue that tends to preserve and improve the species; in any kind of community it becomes a destructive vice...”
F
ollowing the attacks carried out by Anders Breivik in Norway in early August, Barack Obama stated that one of the greatest threats to Western security was “the lone wolf terrorist”. A relatively new phenomenon of homegrown and solitary individuals, the “lone wolf ” acts without leadership or connection to a particular group. What makes their kind of terrorism so dangerous is their autonomy: they can act whenever they decide, and for the most part present a highly undetectable threat. Lone-wolf acts of terrorism have more often than not been motivated by greater ideological causes. For David Copeland, the “London Nail Bomber” of 1999, it was a right-wing purist ideology against London’s gay, black and Asian communities, much like Breivik’s “crusade against the tide of Islam in Europe”. And in 2002 the animal-rights activist Volkert van Der Graaf shot and killed a Dutch politician. Which begs the question: is our generation seeing the rise of a menacing “lone wolf ” psychology, and why now, in the last 50 years, has this new threat emerged? Many security commentators pinpoint the cause to be related to information being so widely available on the Internet. Anyone with a keyboard can search into the darker recesses of the World Wide Web and reveal the endless swathes of forums espousing hatred and violent tactics. Breivik had extensively researched antiIslamic texts on the web, much of which heavily influenced his chilling 1,500-page ‘manifesto’. Some of his research even included US blogs concerned with the ‘Islamification’ of Western societies, some of which have been supported extensively by Fox News host Bill O’Reilly and his former colleague Glenn Beck (two staunch and ironically self-labelled “anti-terrorists”).
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Erwin Schrodinger
When such information and shared extremist views are circulating constantly, it is unsurprising that angry and confused individuals are able to find escalating levels of inspiration in chat rooms and blogs. In these situations social media loses the ‘social’ element and acts as a tool to incite hate and violence (as we have all seen all too clearly with the recent lootings and riots across England). Most terrorism scholars emphasise that terrorism is largely a “group activity” and that radicalisation is achieved through group conformity and subservience to a cell leader. However , Christopher Hewitt, an eminent academic author on terrorism, provides an alternative psychological causation for ‘lone wolves’ carrying out these attacks.While terrorists are considered by most experts as being just as ‘sane’ as the victims of their atrocities, Hewitt asserts there is a higher rate of psychological disturbances among lone-wolf terrorists. Psychiatrists found David Copeland to be suffering from schizophrenia, which in turn encouraged his violent thoughts. Anders Breivik seems to live in a fantasy world, claiming that the teenagers killed while attending the island’s summer camp were “enablers of an Islamic plague” and demanding to be put in touch with the elite US Delta Force regiment to accept his surrender following the shootings on Utøya Island. We may also find further explanation for this phenomenon in the collapse of the community’, in Europe in particular. David Cameron speaks regularly on the concept of ‘Broken Britain’, and while we need not concern ourselves with his particular political spiel the concept is still valid. The late 20th and 21st centuries have given rise to a fragmentation of our Western societies along the lines of culture, class and belief, to name but a few.
Features ‘Within such activity one can witness the recession of groups and individuals into isolationist bubbles; whether through fear or ignorance, these people withdraw from society as an act of selfpreservation. The pervasion of an atmosphere of fear, encouraged by certain media outlets, only makes matters worse. A Daily Mail article espousing the dangers of increased immigration will only further separation between members of its readership (for the most part white and middle class) and their nearby communities of ‘foreigners’. Many ‘lone wolf ’ extremists feel their community and society, perhaps due to their beliefs, have slighted them: Timothy McVeigh, the ‘Oklahoma Bomber’ felt anger toward the federal government for gun control laws and the handling of the Waco Siege in 1993. Breivik felt that his attempts at legitimate politics . had been rebuffed and that Norway was passively allowing the “Islamic invasion” of his country to take place, stating in
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a chilling Tweet before the attacks “one person with a belief is equal to the force of 100,000 who have only interests.” What is certain though is that this increase in the threat of lone-wolf attacks represents a dangerous paradigm shift in the world of violent extremism. It is something our governments and intelligence agencies may be unprepared for. Unless the standard operating procedure for terror investigations and preparations is also shifted to focus alternatively on the increase of dangerous information and rhetoric available to any Internet user, the difference in psychological profile for lone-wolves and the fractures present at the core of our communities; individuals such as Anders Breivik will continue to emerge with deadly results.
James Blaszkowski
BURNING CDS Tom Oberst
How The Pias Distribution Fire During The London Riots Could Spell The End For Many Of Our Favourite Independent Labels 4AD, Absynthe Minded, Accidental, AEI Music, Air Recordings, ALC Music, Alsation, 4AD, Absynthe Minded, Accidental, AEI Music, Air Recordings, ALC Music, Alsation, Ambush Reality, Ancient & Modern, Angular Ambush Reality, Ancient & Modern, Angular Recording Corporation, Arcady Records, Ark Recording Corporation, Arcady Records, Ark Recordings, Asthmatic Kitty Records, AtlanticRecordings, Asthmatic Kitty Records, Atlantic Jaxx Recordings, Bad Magic, Balling The Jack, Banquet Records, Battered Ornaments Records, Beggars Banquet, Best Before, Jaxx Recordings, Bad Magic, Balling The Jack, Big Brother, Big Dada, Bird Records, Blackmaps, Bloody Chamber, Blowout Music, Blue Banquet Records, Battered Ornaments Records, Beggars Banquet, Best Before, Big Brother,Chopsticks, Border Community, Borstal Beats, Boysnoize Records, BPM, Brainfeeder, Big Dada, Bird Records, Blackmaps, BloodyBrassland, Bright Star Recordings, Brille, Broken Sound Music, Bronzerat, Brothers and Chamber, Blowout Music, Blue Chopsticks,Sisters, Brownswood Recordings, Buzzin’ Fly, Cache Cache, Cadenza Records, Celluloid Border Community, Borstal Beats, BoysnoizeRecords, Chalkmark / IE, Chemikal Underground Records, Cocoon, Control Tower, Counter Records, BPM, Brainfeeder, Brassland, BrightRecords, Dance To The Radio, Dead Oceans, Deceptive, Defenders, Ent UK, DESOLAT, Star Recordings, Brille, Broken Sound Music,Dessous, Different, Dirtee Stank, Divine Comedy Records, Domino Records, Double Six
Fabric Worldwide, Fake Diamonds, FantasyTrashcan, Fatcat Records, Fence, Feraltone, Finders Keepers Records, Flock Music, Flying Circus, Freerange Records, Friends Vs Records, Full Pupp, Full Time Hobby, Gang Of Four Recordings, Geographic, Ghost Ship, Glaze Recordings, Groenland Records, G-Unit, Hardly Art, Hassle Records, Helpless, Hem Hem Records, HFN Music, Immune, Independiente, Infant, Infectious, Jagjaguwar, Kartel, Kitchenware, Kitsune, KMS Records / Fabric, Laughing Stock, Lex Records, Lipservice, Little Sister Recordings, LO-MAX
Records, Drag City, Dreambrother, Drive Thru Records, Drowned In Sound, Dummy Records, Duophonic, Eat Sleep Records, Fabric Worldwide, Fake Diamonds, FantasyTrashcan, Fatcat ossibly one of the most Records, upset-Fence, Feraltone, Finders Keepers Records, Flock Music, Flying Circus, Freerange lose all our stock, we've also lost our ting scenes of the LondonRecords, riots Friends Vs Records, Full Pupp, Full Time Hobby, Gang Of Four Recordings, entire distribution network”. They lost was seeing the Sony/PIAS Geographic, ware- Ghost Ship, Glaze Recordings, Groenland Records, G-Unit, Hardly Art, Hassle almost £500,000 worth of stock. And house going up in flames. Millions of not only will this affect the distribuRecords, Helpless, Hem Hem Records, HFN Music, Immune, Independiente, Infant, hopes and dreams etched carefullyInfectious, onto Jagjaguwar, Kartel, Kitchenware, Kitsune, KMS Records / Fabric, Laughing tion of stock, but also its production, vinyl and compact disc were completely as smaller labels who are further down Stock, Lex Records, Lipservice, Little Sister Recordings, LO-MAX Records, Loose Music, erased; the fire did not spare anyLovepump artist United, Low Life Records, Lucky Number Music, Lucky Seven Records, the list to receive insurance will have to or label - it destroyed indiscriminately wait for the bigger labels to have their Mantra, Matador, Memphis Industries, Merok, Metric Music International, Metroline - which has left the great behemoth of Limited, Model Citizen, Moikai, Motion Audio, My Major Company, Nation, Ninja CD Tune, and vinyl catalogues re-pressed the music industry in an odd position. so that they can replenish their stock. No Quarter, NovaMute, Nusic Sounds, One Four Seven Records Ltd, One Little Indian, Whilst at first major record Organs, labelsOutcaste, OVNI, P.I.L., Peartree, Records, PeMa, People In The Sky, People Tree,One can only hope that this bemoaned their plight, having millions will not have a knock-on-effect Pirates Blend Records Inc, Planet Function, Play It Again Sam, Playlouder, Poker of units lost to the inferno, they were on smaller artists. The silver linFlat, Polyvinyl, Records, Poseidon Records, Post Present, Pschent, Raw Canvas, soon shouted down by reporters — the ing seems to be that even if they do Red Cord Records, REK’D, Rekids, Rekords Rekords, Renaissance, Reveal Records, warehouse was insured. Nevertheless, lose their entire stock a band can althey continued to beat their chests and ways continue touring, and they have tear out their hair and even had the However, this is not to say that evnot lost their actual songs - MP3s are, cheek to start a ‘label support fund’ to erything stored at the warehouse was for once, the industry’s lifesaver. What boost the money they were making; worthless. Many smaller labels and arta twist. Although don't be fooled. As I only recently it has come out that the ists have lost all their stock, and those scoured through articles on the fire, fire will benefit major record labels. that run on a tight budget will have no on various pages links encouraging As the scale of the damage was still cash flow for possibly up to nine months you to buy the affected labels' muunfolding an article came out about - a dangerous prospect for almost any sic from iTunes popped up - they Mara Carlyle — a London based singerbusiness to face, let alone a small one. get barely any money from iTunes songwriter who lost the entire stock of It has been reported that Ninja sales, and bands get even less. her soon-to-be-released third album. Tunes lost well over 120,000 records, And here is where I get to the point Tragic, right? Not entirely. This album yet there is a worry that smaller labels of this article: you know that label which was due to be released in 2008, but will lose out and that the DVD comreleased your favourite record; or the EMI had decided that it wouldn’t have panies and major labels will be covone you buy every release from; or even sold, so they held it back. However, in a ered first, despite the fact that they just one which you’ve heard of ? They sudden change of heart from EMI, it’s already have contingency funds put could go bust. So, if you’re going to donow being put forward as a terrible loss. in place. In the aftermath of the rinate any money, give it to them, and diWhat we aren’t being told is that, simiots, the director of the label Full Time rectly, through either buying their MP3s lar to Mara Carlyle’s record, the wareHobby, Wez Westley, was quoted in the or sending them a cheque. There are house was full of much more unwantGuardian as saying “We're probably some brilliant labels that have lost eved, undersold, and unsellable stock. number 250 in line... not only did we erything, so why not help them out.
P
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Music
A BRIEF GUIDE TO PHYSICAL FORMATS Vinyl LP Record. First Used: 1931. Favoured by: DJs, Dads, People who like their music to have ‘texture’. Did you know?: In 2010, around 2.8m vinyl records were sold, almost triple the amount sold in 2007 What to say: ‘Just because it’s more technologically advanced doesn’t mean it has more soul, Philistine. This is how music is meant to be listened to.’ Cool Rating: Always
Cassette Tape First Used:1964 Favoured by: Technophobic Boyfriends, Homeless People, Ghetto Blasters circa. 1990 Did you know? In an interview with CBC Radio in 2009, Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth announced: “I only listen to cassettes.” What to say: “If it’s good enough for Thurston, it’s good enough for me’ Cool Rating: Reasonably so, but a little bit ‘try hard’.
Minidisc First Used: 1992 Favoured by: ? Did you know? It was only on July 7, 2011 that Sony announced that it was going to cease shipping MiniDisc Walkman products from September 2011 onwards. What to say: ‘I know someone who had their minidisc player stolen. It was returned to them the next day.’ Cool Rating: The small nerdy brother of the CD who can’t get laid.
Compact Disc First Used:1978 Favoured by: Housewives, Lazy Boyfriends, Patrick Bateman, Simon Cowell Did you know? Since 2000 the sale of CDs has dropped by over 50% What to say: ‘CDs just lack the texture and soul of vinyl’s, if anything you’re ruining an album by listening to it that way’ Cool Rating: Going to Arena on your own and drinking apple juice.
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WILLY MASON The Glee Club, Nottingham 1
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he last time I saw Willy Mason play live, I was a teetotal seventeen-year-old evangelical Christian with greasy shoulder length hair and a long term girlfriend. Willy had just released his debut single, ‘Oxygen’, which became a huge hit among folk aficionados, and led him to be hailed by some as the next Bob Dylan. No pressure. On that freezing night in 2004, he played to a sold out crowd in a sweaty intimate bar bursting with scene kids wearing checkered shirts and thickrimmed specs. He was supported, bizarrely, by an unknown acoustic rapper named Plan B, whose dark ditties detailing night-time stabbings and corpse rape seemed somewhat at odds with the pseudo-intellectual hippie folk atmosphere, and garnered a tepid response. That bandwagon wasn’t sturdy enough to be jumped on just yet. Conversely, Willy emerged like a stoned messiah to ecstatic applause, and his hour long set was met with much (well deserved) drooling and adulation. It felt, to everyone present
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that evening, like a spiritual awakening, and my girlfriend and I left gasping in the afterglow of the acoustic rapture. Fast forward seven years, and I'm a single, high functioning dipsomaniac with greasy shoulder length hair and a penchant for proselytizing the merits of atheism to anyone who'll listen. Willy hasn't released any new material since 2007's 'If the Ocean Gets Rough', a sophomore effort which failed to match the naïve profundity of his debut. Any reference to his name among friends now rouses vague nonchalant recognition: 'Willy Mason...isn't he that guy that did that song once?' How things have changed. Still, the opportunity to see him perform again presented itself, on the 24th anniversary of my birth no less, and could not be missed. I even invited along aforementioned ex-girlfriend; having not seen her for six years, I sought to construct some strange cyclical narrative out of my life for entertainment purposes. I was not disappointed.
Memories of the gig are sparse, and we turned up late, as I’d drunk enough Sailor Jerry’s to sink a small ship and consequently embarked on an ill advised romp through the streets of Nottingham, taunting shady figures outside bars with the kind of blithe recklessness that only pirate rum can instil. So it was something of a contrast when we noisily entered the dimly lit venue, imbued with a melancholic hush and the familiar sea of shirts and specs, standing cross-armed, gazing up at the road weary figure onstage. He effortlessly meandered his way through the low-key set, that same mesmerising guttural growl accompanied by faultless finger picking on a black Gretsch hollow body guitar, making brief slurred asides between songs to a front row stood barely beyond the tips of his boots. His 'hits' were slid into the setlist as if he was trying to sneak them in unnoticed among his lesser known material.
Music The passing years have served to add weight to his songs of loneliness and nomadic isolation; he has the air of a wise old troubadour, making you forget that the guy’s still only 26 years of age. Admittedly, the overly sombre subject matter and pedestrian tempo of his songs did not lend themselves to my ideas of bacchanalian revelry, but it is hard not to become enticed by his calm manner and lulling East Coast drawl. He’s less the messianic figure of seven years ago, and far more the heartbroken artist, a role he seems much more comfortable embodying, eschewing any cult of personality, allowing instead the fruits of his craft to shine on the pedestal. The crowd is polite and encouraging, so encouraging in fact that five times he plays what he promises will be his ‘last song’, each time being cajoled into continuing. This he does with a cool, wry smile, clearly enjoying the invigorating adulation. When he
I Wish...
I
wish classical music wasn’t so uptight and boring. I mean, take the riots and looting during the Summer — was there a single hooded delinquent wielding an un-tuned clarinet? Did no-one think to drag out the crash cymbals for comic effect? Has no-one realised that a well-timed sousaphone could bring any township to its knees? Of course, it’s always been considered rock 'n' roll to smash up a guitar, but have these misguided hooligans not even considered the damage you could do with a bassoon? There are also a whole host of instruments which are distinctly less flammable than the humble guitar in such heated situations, which is something any discerning troublemaker should probably have thought through a little better. Nothing would delight me
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finally does finish, he sits on the edge of the stage, signs autographs and poses for photos, all in a charming, understated way. We left satisfied, returning out into the balmy night recharged and ignited with Willy’s eternal truths on our lips. When I awoke the next morning, pale late summer light spilling through my bedroom window, Mason’s song ‘Save Myself ’ was swimming in my throbbing head, a fractured remnant of the night before. I turned over, and found myself intimately entwined with a distantly familiar companion. Reaching for the half drunk glass of rum on my bedside table, I laughed at my own folly. The sleepy frown she returned as she awoke indicated we’d have to blame the ol’ demon drink and forget about it. Willy Mason has grown and become a profound and poetic man. I’m still a silly boy.
Chris Shannon Musical concerns of the Middle-Class
more than taking a trombone to the shop front of a grossly overpopulous, multi-national franchise, but then I’d have the spit valve to deal with, and I don’t like to be anti-social. I wish angry young men would realise that classical music can benefit them directly. For a start, it’s a universal truth that “chicks dig musicians.” Also, as anyone who’s ever seen a horror film will tell you, all you have to do is play tremelando shaky notes on the nearest violin,
any female in the vicinity will take leave of her senses and behave in a completely irrational and spontaneous fashion. I wish classical music would make the effort to rebrand. People need to realise where classical music can fit in to their busy lives, and more importantly benefit them. One man, a large tuba and a jaunty little tune could do the work of a year's membership to the gym. Inner-city dwellers with countryside aspirations could substitute a piccolo for plaintive bird-song. The possibilities are endless; I just wish classical music would pull its finger out and stake its claim in today’s society, before a generation misses out completely.
Abi Jenkins
er ! m Sum pective ros t e R
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Richard III The Old Vic, 17 August 2011
ith critics referring to tickets as ‘Gold dust’ and current seats for closing night selling at £500, Sam Mendes’ production of Richard III has to be this year’s most coveted piece of theatre. Having booked six months before opening night, I was riding purely on the tag line of Mendes as director and Kevin Spacey in the title role. But, excited as I was by the promise of great acting/directing, I was dubious about seeing one of Shakespeare’s ‘Histories’. I was intrigued to discover how Mendes would make contemporary a plot dictated by the past. Surely, Richard III must be, well, dated? Not so. In fact, the production was devoid of an era altogether. Instead it floated between centuries: the play opens with a 1940s-style newsreel of the King’s brother, the next scene shows Richard hand George IV a Coke style can which he promptly cracks open (are we in the ‘60s now?) and while the men are in modern-ish suits, the women wear Elizabethan
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dress. If this gender disparity is a comment about male political progression compared to female stagnancy, it was not apparent to me at the time of viewing. In short, Mendes’ nebulous depiction of the time period left the audience uncertain as to whether this was a tale of a bygone king or more of an allegory for modern-day corruption. Context aside though, with ‘Richard III’’s convoluted plot, I appreciated Mendes’ projection of the name of the protagonist of each scene onto the back wall of the set, effectively minimizing confusion. Moreover, Spacey and his supporting cast of heavy-weight thespians put on a sinister but highly impressive performance. If a lead of Spacey’s caliber is ever at risk of overshadowing his contemporaries, the rest of the cast are by no means outdone here. The females in particular are strong rivals. Among those that stand out is the scene between Richard and Lady Anne. Here, Richard successfully turns Lady Anne’s revulsion
for him (he has recently murdered her father-in-law, whose corpse lies onstage throughout the scene) into sexual attraction— a feat for any man, but for a ‘poisonous, bunchbacked toad’— quite something else. The combination of Shakespeare’s rhetoric and Spacey’s stage charisma had my hairs standing on end. And as she rages against her arousal for a man she ought to loath, Annabel Scholey’s Lady Anne incites both pathos and despair. Furthermore, Mendes’ crafty use of space enhanced the scene, your eyes made to flit from either side of the stage during a cat-and-mouse chase that soon morphs into a game of ‘kisschase’ with as much playing hardto-get as in the playground. It’s perverted, but comical and serious at the same time. The ‘dark side’ that Mendes reportedly wanted Spacey to ‘access’ for the role, was potent. In particular, two other scenes deserve mention for their cunning direction and performance. Firstly, the slanging match between Richard
Theatre and Queen Elizabeth (played by Haydn Gwynne) in which Richard demands he should be married to the Queen’s daughter, is full of anguish and rage. Gwynne gives Spacey a run for his money as much as the Queen does Richard here; as good as he is, it is Gwynne (as Elizabeth) not Spacey himself, who truly reveals to the audience the depth of Richard’s evil, perfectly expressing quite how terrible it would be for her daughter to marry such a man. Secondly, the Duke of Buckingham’s rabble-rousing of the ‘public’ as he narrates Rich-
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ard’s false disinclination to accept the throne lends an element of political absurdity to the action. We are shown Richard at prayer on a screen, as if filmed by the press, while Chuk Iwuji’s Buckingham gives a speaker’s corner-style performance with exaggerated spin. This parody of modern political antics comes close to hilarity in its farce, and was highly engaging, although the chorus of actors dotted around the audience whooping and cheering in response seemed to me to be an unnecessary addition. As epic productions go, Mendes’
t u O t I v h-Chekho
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version comes close to impeccable. The acting/direction is almost outstanding, but the operative word here is ‘almost’. At over three and half hours long, it would benefit from some editing so that the vignettes of brilliance aren’t lost among the less captivating scenes; while many moments were reminiscent of contemporary political tyranny, a more definitive setting might dispel confusion. However, even if it narrowly misses ‘perfect’ status, it is deserving of its sell-out run. Well worth the 60+ pounds the best seats go for…almost.
Chloe Hajnal-Corob & David Llewlyn-Jones
The Cherry Orchard The National Theatre, 6 August 2011
eing somewhat a novice to Russian literature I sat down to watch The Cherry Orchard with a blind anticipation. I quickly discovered it was an emotionally laden and moving tale of a desperate family in an era of political upheaval being crushed by a dark reality. With Zoë Wannamaker playing the archaic and chaotic aristocrat Madam Ranevskaya and Roger Lloyd Pack as the equally incapable Lyonya, characters that could have easily become figures devoid of charm and grace remained infuriatingly loveable despite their flaws. Wannamaker in particular displayed a spectacular emotional register, and at a particularly high point appeared to physically break on stage, silent tears streaming down her face as she learnt about the inevitable sale of the cherry orchard. With her long stint in the middle-of-the-road BBC sitcom My Family that younger generations have come to associate her with with, it was great to be reminded of why Wannamaker has been considered one of the great female stage actresses of our time. Minor characters were also believable and sufficiently complex, none resorting to simple stereotype whilst portraying their part in the tragic collapse of an outdated class of people.
The characters of Varya and Petya were particularly impressive, and my heart went out to Varya, the suppressed and frustrated fosterdaughter whose attempts at trying to hold the family together from the outside were palpable. The idealistic “eternal student” Petya was also charming in his naïve optimism, stubbornly resisting the condescending attitudes of those around him. With its cruel wit, I wouldn’t call this production a comedy, as Chekhov did, but rather a farcical tragedy. I couldn’t help but be moved by the bare, drab stage covered with dust, and the sounds of axes chopping down the pivotal but enticingly ambiguous orchard at the end of the play, a feeling that is only deepened with horror as you realise that the frail Firs has been locked and abandoned to die in the empty house. This play is a spectacular showcase of abandonment — the young moving on and rejecting the old, traditions being lost in technological and economical progression, and the world seeming to discard these tragic aristocrats, plunging them headfirst into an increasingly frail world of dusty homes and mounting debt. A complex and emotionally disturbing performance that truly plunges the audience into a lost world.
Alex Wynick 17 Exetera // September Online Edition
WHAT USAIN?
A
ugust 28th, 2011. Why was this day significant? The Libya conflict? Hurricane Irene hitting Manhattan? No. Whilst these are both momentous events in 2011, there was one that overshadowed them both – Usain Bolt’s disqualification from the 100m World Championship Final. Since the 2008 Olympics, Usain Bolt has been the poster boy of World Athletics. The charismatic Jamaican has put to the sword sprinter after sprinter, with only one blip against Tyson Gay. And it is not just his success that endears him to fans and marketers alike, it is the way in which he accomplishes it. The constant showboating up until he is called to the starting blocks, and the fact that most of the time he celebrates with 40 metres to go, knowing he’s already won. The sheer arrogance of the man is astounding, yet due to his immense talent, inoffensive. Add to that a man that totals a BMW M3 whilst hideously breaking the speed limit and claims he could play for Manchester United if he wanted, and you have the modern
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day definition of a sporting superstar. In Beijing, he not only won an unbelievable three gold medals (100m, 200m and relay), but also broke the world records for the 100m and 200m races in the process. Fast forward to Berlin 2009, where
The same people that were lauding him as the greatest sprinter ever were suddenly criticizing him for being the entertainer he is in the 100m and 200m he broke both of his own records on the way to World Championships. His time for the 100m? 9.58 seconds. To put this in context, that is a speed of 23mph. If he were to run that fast down most Exeter roads, the police would have genuine reason to stop him on the grounds that he was breaking the speed limit. Now, in 2011, only two men have
run faster than Bolt. Their names? Not important. Both have since failed drug tests, rendering them insignificant (although if you're really interested, they were Steve Mullings and Mike Rodgers. Who? Exactly.) In the run-up to this year's World Championships, Bolt’s two main rivals, Tyson Gay and Asafa Powell, dropped out with injury, leaving Bolt to run his way, easily - and I stress the word easily - to the 100m final. As he lined up for the final on the afternoon of the 28th August, he mocked those to his left and those to his right, light-heartedly gesturing that it was only about one man. Since his astronomical rise to global celebrity during the Beijing Olympics, he was probably right. However, this time, it was going to be for a completely different reason. A hushed silence fell over the stadium at Daegu, and photographers gathered at the finish line to catch the photo of the man who was clearly going to win. Moments later however, Bolt inexplicably jumped the gun. He had no need to, he knew that;
WHY THE WORLD NEEDS TO LET BOLT BE BOLT
the other athletes knew that, and the bookies certainly knew that - offering odds of 1/20 for a Bolt win. And so just like that, he was out of the 100m final. The athletics world stood dumbfounded. ‘Who can beat Bolt?’ people used to ask without reply. Now, the answer is clear; the biggest rival to Bolt seems to be Bolt himself. “I have no problem, I never falsestarted yet. It will be better for the sport. It will be a problem for some, but not for me.” Any guesses who that comment comes from? That was Bolt himself, talking about the new rule disqualifying athletes after one false start. I suppose even the best can come crashing down to earth. After all, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. What’s interesting about this story is that immediately, people started to question Bolt’s approach to the sport and competitors. One false start and suddenly Michael Johnson, Maurice Greene and various other sports personalities around the world were lambasting his fun, relaxed approach to the sport. The same people that
were lauding him as the greatest sprinter ever were suddenly criticizing him for being the entertainer he is. Without Bolt's strange rituals, such as his pre-race chicken nuggets, or his crazy, messianic complex and showboating, there is no question that athletics would not be the same. Do we really need another intense, straightfaced athlete running as fast as they can for a few seconds? Without Bolt, the 100m would be much less of an event. He may not be the perfect role model for young athletes but he doesn’t need to be. He breaks records. He attracts audiences. He sparks excitement. And he does it all his own way, smashing world records whilst being himself and having fun. Would anyone have it any differently? With the exception of other sprinters, I really don't think so. I wonder how Lord Coe would react to a London 2012 without Usain Bolt. Not well I’d imagine. The 100m final, billed as the most glamorous event, thrives on stars like him. Thankfully for all, Usain will be in London and, barring any further moments
Sports!
of madness, will undoubtedly be the Olympic champion once again. Bolt’s success is unprecedented. This is perhaps why the sporting world is so ready to jump upon any mistake he makes. After his disqualification at the World Championships, the critics were in full voice, calling for an overhaul of what makes the 6 foot 4 Jamaican the superstar he is. And while they cashed in on the rarest of mistakes, Bolt retreated to the Jamaican team’s base in Daegu and waited for his chance at redemption. When his chance came, he took it with absolute pure brilliance. As the cameras focused on him before both the 200m final and relay final, he fooled around just like before, as if nothing had happened. This time however, there was no false start. This time, Bolt was back. This time, the critics were silent once again. I suppose it goes to show, when the best are at their best they’re untouchable, but when they falter — even for a second — the gloves are off. So I pose the question: is it Bolt that needs to change his attitude, or those that are claiming he needs to?
Duncan Head 19 Exetera // September Online Edition
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COSMIC VIBES MYSTIC MORRIS GIVES US THE ASTROLOGICAL LOWDOWN ARIES (March 21- April 20) The Sun in your sign gives you real inspiration to get up and go. Unfortunately, you develop a serious addiction to The Sims. You reach the point where you have to ask yourself whether making a Sim version of your ex is ok – it isn’t.
CANCER (June 22-July 22) This month you begin to feel confident in your abilities as a unique and special individual who really has something to offer society. Sadly for you, no-one else feels the same way, and your dream of starting a society based on a mutual love of Poi is crushed by the entire student body.
LIBRA (September 23-October 22) This month your career plans all seem to be falling exactly into place, which is great news for the future of the child whose existence you’re (as yet) unaware of.
CAPRICORN (December 22-January 20) You’re feeling impulsive this month, meaning you give in to your darkest urges without considering the consequences. The increased police scrutiny as a result will force you to leave Exeter, if not the country, before someone checks your basement.
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TAURUS (April 21-May 21) There’s upheaval in your love life, as you come home from a hard day of wearing joggers in public to find your partner in the bath with all of the bouncers from Arena. Single? Don’t worry – that’s not going to change for a while.
LEO (July 23-August 22) Your fellow Leo Arnold Schwarzenegger once said: “The best activities for your health are pumping and humping.” It’s this kind of attitude that makes people resent you. You’ll spend a considerable part of this month with your top off.
SCORPIO (October 23- November 22) Venus in your sign brings a tall, dark, handsome stranger in to your life, who will sweep you off your feet with a dazzling display of everlasting love and devotion. You’ll find out that you’re related when it’s just a little bit too late.
AQUARIUS (Januuary 21- February 18) All the time you spent learning emotional song lyrics and posting them as your Facebook status finally pays off as you meet a total babe who is even lamer than you are. You will be perfect together, until you discover their online blog and realise that it’s just too much, even for you.
GEMINI (May 22-June 21) Unfortunately, you share a star sign with Katie Price. This just about sums up your future.
VIRGO (August 23- September 22) Avoid your kitchen at breakfast time at all costs. Your housemate’s lecturer is eating his cornflakes there in his pants, and you really don’t want to know why.
SAGGITARIUS (November 23- December 21) Your lifelong dreams of celebrity are finally realised as you receive nationwide recognition on your TV debut. Every tabloid and magazine will be buzzing about you after your controversial appearance on The Jeremy Kyle Show.
PISCES (February 19- March 20) The movements in the sign of your ruling planet, Neptune, inspire you to challenge your boundaries and try something you never have before. However, you’ll soon discover, just as many others have, that crystal meth gets really weird, really quickly.
HAVE YOU ENJOYED READING THIS ONLINE LAUNCH EDITION OF EXETERA? YES
YES
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Do you enjoy writing?
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YES, I WAS JOKING
SORRY, WHAT?
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Hilarious.
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OK, I WAS JOKING
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Bravo. While it's clearly not all that great, you have a sense of humour though, right? NO
YES ...You're weird.
Then you should submit articles/photos/drawings to the first printed edition of EXETERA coming to campus in October! We will publish anything that is funny/ thoughtful/informative/witty/satirical, especially if it looks the absurd side of student and popular culture. And we always welcome your photos and illustrations. So get writing/snapping/drawing! Our email address is: email.exetera@gmail.com
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