Issue 14 - September 1 2004
Burger Me Quench gets its teeth into Morgan Spur lock’s fast food documentar y
Interviews - Fashion - Gay - Travel - Music - Books - Digital - Film - Arts - Food - Going Out
Music: Rocking out at Reading
Features: Life’s answer s online
F ood: Hango ver cures
Gay: Bashing Big Brother
Contents
grmagazine@cf.ac.uk
Satisfy your thirst... 4 6 7 10 16 18 20 24 32 34 39 41 42 44 55 55
O ne Trick Pony : same shit, different editor Debate have a scrap about Halls of Residence A mber Duval has advice for the innocent
Features searches for answers on the net Travel get lost in translation in Japan Freshers week clothing sorted in Fashion
G ay indulge in Big Brother bashing M usic get down and dirty at Reading Your essential gadgets for the year in Digital
Film take on the Big Mac Ted Hughes is Books’ legend of the page
Arts get out and get cultured
G oing O ut are on a vodka mission Food present the Ultimate Hangover Cure Blind Date search for that special someone DC G ates is surely out there somewhere
Executive editor Gary Andrews Quench editor James Anthony
Arts Debbie Green, Laura Quinn, Natalie Slater Blind Date Lisa O’Brien Books Kerry-Lynne Doyle Columnist DC Gates Debate Jessica Webb Digital Simeon Rosser-Trokas Fashion Caroline Ellis, Perri Lewis Features Emma Langley, Hannah Perry Film Craig Driver, Alan Woolley Food Mari Ropstad Gay Ian Loynd Going Out Dave Adams Interviews Rob Plastow, Will Dean, Sam Coare, Jon Davies Music Sam Coare, Jon Davies One Trick Pony Geordie Chris Photography Maria Cox Travel Sarah Cummins, Laura Tovey Contributors Johnny Acid, Bill Bones, Will Dean, David Doyle, Laura Hillier, Amy Hurst, Janine Jones, Andy Llewellyn, Sophia Lawry, Keth Kenure, Alex Macpherson, Terry Paul, Rich Samuels, Rob Sharples, AJ Silvers, Dan Smith, Quirine Robbins Photographers and illustrators Contributors needed Proof readers Rob Sharples, Alys Southwood Cover design Gary Andrews
Quench 01 09 04
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Atmosfear
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o the new arrivals: you lucky, lucky people. You hold in your hand, the Freshers’ edition of what will soon become a staple part of your university diet, like cheap lager (AKA Oranjeboom) and peanut butter on toast. This is the sophomore year of Quench and it has fallen to me to steer this good ship to its eventual destination -- as the greatest student magazine Cardiff has ever seen. The previous editor left Quench with a great reputation, but seeing as all you newbies will be none the wiser, you’ll just have to take my word for it. Last year, I sat with a mate in a launderette in Cathays. I picked up the virgin issue of Quench, perusing it much like you’re doing now. I liked it. In fact, I liked it so much I’m now in charge of it. I tell you this because somewhere out there reading this is next year’s editor, browsing and wondering not just if they could do it, but – could they do it better? That’s exactly what I said to my mate, one year ago. Now it’s time to step up to the plate, and make sure my ass can cash that cheque so hastily written by my big fat mouth. To those of you returning: welcome back. It’s time for another semester of underachieving, daytime TV, and you treating my hometown like it’s a Butlins holiday village. I exaggerate, of course, and the vitriol behind that last wisecrack is only partially due to the fact that it’s the wee small hours, and I have to return soon to a job I dislike immensely. I suppose that’s why we’re all here – the purpose of university is to improve our career prospects, ensuring that we don’t end up in a miserable job. This is the new post-millennial tension; it’s a terrifying prospect, and certainly my All Time Greatest Fear. So new and old, throw yourself into the adventure that is uni life. The best of luck to all. James Anthony
4 O n e
Tr i c k
(Overrated) Sleep Freshers, you’ll rapidly find yourselves surviving on virtually none as you savor the delights of Cardiff's nightlife, get mindless-pissed every night, and yet still make it to early lectures on time. Providing your lectures are earlier than Talybont social’s opening time, in which case abandon hope now. Physics students on Dr Davies' 'Cosmos' module have the advantage, of course, that it's impossible not to fall asleep in his lectures. If my later years in university are any indicator however (and I like to think that they are), second and third year students will find it increasingly difficult to make it in by midday, despite living much closer. Weird.
Censorship Blaming computer games for some nutter going nuts is, well, madness. Clearly said nutter was an accident waiting to happen. Taking products off the shelves not only spoils it for the rest of us, i.e. those who can differentiate twixt Fantasy© and Reality©, but also avoids the causes of violence in society (I'm quietly confident The Yorkshire Ripper didn't play on his Playstation much more than very rarely) and discourages taking responsibility for one's own actions. Once again society passes the buck, thus avoiding the blame for the decline of society being placed firmly at the feet of bad parenting. Or possibly The Tweenies.
(Underrated) Halls life For those new first year students that aren't living in halls this year, I’d like to quote the great orator, The Simpsons’ Nelson Muntz: "Ha-ha". You're really missing out. Those that are: congratulations, wise choice - especially those living in Talybont. Oh, the fun to be had: jousting with trolleys liberated from Tesco, failing to make it past the social centre on the way to lectures of a morning. Incidentally, to those people put off going into Talybont social centre 01/02 because of the group of people by the toilets being 'too loud', sorry. That was me.
Spanish music In Spain, the country's gypsy population achieves a little more than dodgy caravan sales, Eastender-reducing fairground attractions and getting killed in the face by Tony Martin. A pleasing result of this is the 'music of the outcasts', or, flamenco. Try it – you might like it. (On a completely unrelated note, I don't think I've ever before used the letter y so many times in one paragraph). Wikipedia says: Flamenco occurs in different types of setting. One is the ‘Juerga’ - an informal gathering where people are free to join in creating music. This can include dancing, singing, violin, Palmas (hand clapping), or simply pounding in rhythm on an old orange crate. Orange crate? Bloody pikeys.
P o n y
Quench 01 09 04
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( L e g e n d )
ew year, new intake of freshers and now a new writer of One Trick Pony. Yes - I, Geordie Chris will be the one responsible for filling all your heads with randomness... Anyway, that means I have these pages just about all to myself, free to rant, whinge and generally force upon you whatever meaningless nonsense comes past my brain in the early hours of the morning before my deadline. A bout of Spain-induced sunstroke has left me without the time or energy to write a proper 'Legend', so I'm going to use this space for a bit of blatant narcissism (oh, look it up). At least that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. The thing is, though, I'm great.
This is
I
NOT
One Trick Pony
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No, really, I am. I'm also currently available for the purpose of amore, so if any lady Freshers (I say this in the hope that they are actually a bit fresher) fancy their chances, you can win a piece of this fine specimen in OTP's first competition of the year. Email competition@onetrick.co.uk with an answer to the following question: Who would play the part of you in a film of your life and why. Competition rules are as follows: 1. Closing date is 31st September 2004 2. Correspondants may be entered into. 3. Multiple entry is definitely worth considering.
Subliminal Advertising
One rather irate northerner, slightly soiled.
( T o s s e r )
t's unlike me to agree with anything usually spouted by unwashed hippies, but Starbucks really are a massive pack of twats. Three outlets within about a three-hundred-metre radius in the city centre. At the expense of smaller (faster, better, cheaper etc. etc.) businesses. Is this really necessary? This of course means that you’re choosing the evil bean over the greatest British drink ever. Frankly, anybody who forgoes a proper drink, the best thing the Empire ever did - i.e. Tea - for coffee is probably a moron anyway, but if I catch any of you in Starbucks I’ll be getting out a
big roughly-shorn stick with which to beat you. If you insist on drinking the muck though, try Hoffi Coffee on Woodville Road or A Shot In The Dark on City Road, where all the house coffee is Fair Trade. Cardiff is gunning to be Europe’s first ‘Fair Trade City’, if the websites are to be believed, and presumably this is a good thing, not least because it means that the 9-year-old Colombian girls who work on the plantation can afford to indulge their addiction to their country's other main export... Shakira.
th fin o a [ ug l .. ht . ] s
Starbucks “A hardened and shameless tea drinker, who has for twenty years diluted his meals with only the infusion of this fascinating plant; whose kettle scarcely has time to cool; who with tea amuses the evening, with tea solaces the midnight, and with tea welcomes the morning.” -- Samuel Johnson
I lack the words with which to describe the contempt I have for McCoffee.
The Week to OTP ThAccording e Editor: In o
rder to well dese teach this rapscallio encourage rved lesson, the n a gentlemen s any ladies or, inde Ed tion” (whic to enter the “comped, shove fromh I am giving a violeetiinto “actua “whimsically ficticio nt us” lly genuine”) . Heh.
6 Debate
Hall Wars Forget Varsity, there’s a bigger rivalry in town. Our columnists duke it out over which is the best hall of residence Laura Hillier Terry Paul UNIVERSITY HALL
TALYBONT
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A
We in Talybont have the best sports facilities that Cardiff Unversityi has to offer, plenty of sporty freshers for those singletons amongst us. All of our rooms are ‘ensuite’ ensuring no verrucas or other foot fungi nor any foreign stray hairs, stubble in the plughole or other such bodily surprises that are a permanent feature in communal bathrooms. Take the toilets - nobody else’s floating turds and your own loo is the best place to recover from last night’s hangover. A lot of end of year exams are held in Talybont so you can fall out of bed into your exam room and earn yourself another 15 minutes to cram.
However, fear not if you have been led astray and made the ill-advised choice of Talybont South (or even worse, Talybont North). It’s not too late to switch halls and join the fun at Uni Hall. Whether you end up in Senghyydd Court, Colum Road or a student house in Glynrhondda Street, you’re guaranteed a good time. Even so, don’t be seduced by the superficial glamour of Talybont and miss out on the best that Cardiff has to offer.
hat can I say? There’s just no comparison to our friends camped out in the nether regions of Cyncoed.
Then there is the geographical position of the Halls. After a night out in the city centre you can just walk leisurely back to Talybont. Our friends in Uni Hall have to queue for buses or have the extra expense of a taxi (there are no day buses on the weekends – tough luck). Uni Hall looks like a 1960s East London Comprehensive school; with its ugly tower block and school style stairways you expect to hear your former head of year yell: “Keep to the right and no running in the corridors”. Here in Talybont we have modern ‘flatlets’ where students are divided up into groups of six or so; it’s a far more cosy atmosphere. On our doorstep we have a 24-hour Tesco Extra for ‘munchies’ and fast food supplied by McDonalds. What more can you ask for? Oh yes, I forgot our mention our very own local Pub – The Blackweir. In late Spring and early Summer we sit around the tables on stainless steel cafeteria-style chairs outside in the sunshine sipping cool lager or white wine spritzers while waving at our Uni Hall friends as they cram like sardines into their hot buses, stuck in traffic returning them to their ‘Little piece of Peckham in Cardiff’. I thoroughly recommend Talybont to all.
ll you Freshers lucky enough to enter Cardiff University have probably singled out your number one choice of accommodation.
Uni Hall is so big, that you’re guaranteed to find someone else with the same interests, however bizarre they may be. There’s so much going on that we’re virtually self-contained with regular transport (no walking for us please), a lively bar and sports facilities. Admittedly these may be slightly less high tech than the Talybont Gym but at the end of the day we’re students - we drink, not exercise. Yes, we’ve perfected this pastime to a tee. Once a year we’re not to be outdone as Uni Hall Ball fever grips everyone with a functioning liver and appetite for alcohol. Who can beat fancy dress drinking sessions inspired by the likes of James Bond and Grease (don’t lie, everyone knows the words). It’s the perfect combination – beer goggles and men dressed as secret agents. Bliss. Again and again, the propaganda people at Talybont constantly advertise the ‘en-suite’ facility. Correct me if I’m wrong but when did en-suite represent a shower cubicle big enough to hold a small malnourished child? This confinement and claustrophobia extends to the actual living space allocated to each unfortunate student. The size of the room only really caters for vertically challenged anorexics. Although we have communal bathrooms, Uni Hall allows each resident to stand in the middle of the room and turn 360 degrees, a luxury that is unknown to the crippled Talybont-lover. At the end of the day, Uni Hall wipes the floor with Talybont. The canteen (complete with the famous ham and cheese toasted sandwich machine), the bus service, the recreational space and it’s only a short walk from Roath Park. Miss Uni Hall, and you definitely miss out.
Amber Duval
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Sex laws for the jilted generation
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t’s hard to believe, as I sit here swathed in luxuriant fabrics and Parisian lingerie, that merely a year ago I was addressing Freshers just like yourselves, all excited about the upcoming first-year’s sexual liberation. Rid of parents, armed with a student loan, invited to a dozen events a week, and with twenty thousand other horny students to play with; Freshers is the perfect time for an awakening. I could offer you a sermon on the dangers of sexual promiscuity and the necessity for contraception, but I’m fairly sure you’re well aware of the risks, and the preventative measures available to avoid finishing your first year as a parent, or spending as much time at the genito-urinary clinic as you do in lectures [for those in need of advice, check out the Health centre on Park Place]. What I do offer is the voice of experience, a word to the wise, in the understanding that some of you are going to get lots of sex, some of you will have cosy relationships your whole time here (not that these two things are mutually exclusive) and some of you won’t have any sex from choice (whether it’s your choice or theirs). Whatever you fancy, we have it all; orientations, fetishes, nationalities, and in any combination (good news for you bisexual s&m fans into Japanese girls. Or... whatever). Nothing I say will have any bearing on what you will do or abstain from doing (I hope), but if I can recommend one thing it is that you take a bit of thinking space.
For three years (minus holidays for many of you) you will be living in this great city of ours, and – Capital though it is - gigantic it is not. Bad pennies have a way of following you round for a long time in a university town this small. Think about this hard if you are messing around close to home. You do not want to be in a lecture once a week, for sixty weeks, with someone you regret sleeping with on your first night out – especially once word gets round your department that you deflowered the ugly kid on the dance floor at Creation after too much Aftershock. Adversely, before you get into a relationship with the love of your life, marry, have kids, settle down (like in the movies, because apparently everyone meets their future life-partner at university) just try a few things. You don’t want to look back on an ounce of your time here as something that you squandered, misspent or abused. It all boils down to making the best of it and having fun. Join societies, miss a few lectures due to hangovers, steal a traffic cone (if you
must); try everything. Instead, if you so desire, you can tread the path of academic excellence, spend nights in sobriety, enrol in only those societies which enhance your CV, take extra classes and have more friends amongst the academic staff than your graduating year.
Capital though it is, gigantic it is not. Bad pennies have a way of following you round for a long time in a university town None of this means you can’t have a healthy and experimental sex life (perhaps allocating three hours over school nights and more over the weekends, whatever best fits your timetable). Balance fun and safety, liberty and commitment, erotic pleasure and romantic love. Three years is a long time. Do it all. Just not in your first week.
8 I n t e r v i e w
grmagazine@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01 09 04
“Everyone’s falling over themselves about us” Sam Coare goes behind the scenes at the Reading Festival to speak to the band with the midas touch
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herever and whatever Amplifier do they are met with a universal applause. Be it the band's eponymous debut album, released last May, or the stunning audio and visual show that greets the paying spectator at a performance, Amplifier can simply do no wrong. “We've been going a long time," comments lead guitarist and vocalist Sel Balamir. "But its only when you put an album out that you get that pay back. It totally changes the whole experience.” Fresh from dates in Germany, the band were taken aback by the growing reputation they are gaining abroad. "We were the first band on the second stage,” explains Balamir, "and we were right in front of the entrance where people came in. Basically everyone that came in watched us. It was like we were headlining." "It was mad," adds drummer Matt Brobin. "To have people knowing your songs is incredible". The rise of Amplifier has been anything but meteoric. Following three years hard graft, the band signed to Music for Nations (now BMG) in 2002 and this past May saw the release of their debut LP. Both Brobin and Balamir admit frustration at the constant delays to the albums release, over a year after its completion.
Yet, despite the delays, both have a realistic outlook on the speed of the bands progression. Matt Brobin looked upon the delay as a somewhat good thing. "I think it was the right time to release it. We wanted to get a few singles out first, but yeah, it's frustrating when you're sitting on the album at home.” I was surprised at the band’s laid back approach to the speed of their progression, in comparison to the Darkness, for instance. "Some bands have a meteoric rise" explained Balamir. "When we went in to record the base and drum parts in The Chapel in Lincolnshire the Darkness had literally just finished recording their record. Every time I booted up the computer all I got were Darkness files. If only I knew what I do now." For the moment, the band seems content on letting them carry wherever the albums success does. "We're not spotlight people." Balamir went on. "What we want is to tour the world. If there's one reason why we all wanna be in bands is to make music and travel. “We're not rich; we'll never get to travel round the world. This is the only way we will get to do something like this." For a band that is receiving worldwide applause, I find this refreshingly different. It would be hard to imagine
many bands, with such growing reputation, contenting themselves on seeing the world. "Australia and Japan. That's where we wanna go," Balamir concludes. So what of the future for the band? "We're at the bottom of the mountain" Balamir philosophizes. "Being in a band is like a journey. This is what we wanna achieve. “It'll happen eventually. It might take five years and, yeah, that's frustrating, but you don't go to Everest expecting a quick jaunt to the top" "We all got together just jamming, a few beers, just making a racket. That's basically what Amplifier is: it adds and enjoyment about it. Everyone sets targets in life, and we're no different. “You look for your name in a magazine, for your first interview, and when you achieve that you need to re-evaluate. Because it's so gradual, you don't notice it. Life's weird, but there’s no certainty. The ice is probably even thinner for a band. Somemone might make a decision you have no control over, and which affects your whole life.” They may not have complete control, but with the plaudits raining in, it’s hard not to think the future looks bright. And as for the bands appearance at the Reading festival? “It’s awesome, but it stinks of shit out there.”
Lighten Up Interview 9 Jon Davies manages to catch up with Razorlight’s Carl Dalemo before playing Reading and Leeds Festival
CARL: Not Johnny
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hen I first tried to speak to Razorlight’s Carl at the time originally planned for our interview, he asked me to call him back because he was busy. At this point the interview could have gone in several directions. Possibility No.1: I was going to ring back and he wasn’t going to be arsed to answer. After all, let’s not get too ambitious; he’s in one of Britain’s most exciting new bands and I’m calling from your local student rag. Possibility No.2: I was going to ring back and he was going to be a cock. To be fair, we all think most rock stars are gonna turn out to be dicks. Band members: let’s all line up to thank Justin Hawkins/Kelly Jones/Insert Your Own Twat for this preconception. Or (heaven forbid) Possibility No.3: he could actually turn out to be nice. Place your bets, spin the wheel, and the answer was... number three! Shock horror -- he happens to be a nice guy. So let this be a lesson to you all not to subscribe to cock-rock
stereotypes. Anyway, back to the proceedings. Speak to most people about Razorlight you usually end up talking about one thing: the walking quote machine that is Johnny Borrell. Whether he’s slagging off Bob Dylan or claiming that he’s the voice of our generation, the guy is one funny motherfucker, not to mention an interviewers dream. But then I thought, why not give one of the other guys a chance to speak and get their side of it? (Oh, ok, I was designated Carl by their PR person.) Firstly he explains the reason for delaying our chat: “I’m in the middle of moving.” Fair enough, if I was moving I wouldn’t want to speak to me, but with a half-hour taxi journey to kill what better way to spend it than chatting to your humble writer? Our conversation ranged from current listening habits to what happens in the typical day-in-the-life of a Razorlight bassist. At no point does Carl live up to the typical prima-donna image that seems to surround people
in his trade; in fact he just sounds like any other guy, albeit one with a busy schedule. When discussing tour plans for October, Carl tells me how they have 22 gigs in one month and they’re not all in this country. Ouch. Compared to my hectic ten hours a week university schedule that’s one busy boy. Although Carl’s not complaining - he’s wanted to be in a band since he was ten - and if you could pick one band to be in at the moment Razorlight would definitely make the list. Talk naturally drifts to Johnny and I quiz Carl about the recent Vice Hotline where Johnny revealed his phone number on album track, and soon to be released single, Vice, and encouraged fans to ring, leave a message and Johnny would ring you back. According to Carl, Johnny literally sat for hours listening to messages and ringing people back. The messages ranging from drunken, “I love yous,” to people trying to audition for the band. When talking about Johnny’s stunts Carl laughs about them as if you would when describing mates drunken antics the night before. Since I’m the eighth person who’s interviewed Carl today, I ask him if I’ve just been asking him the same questions as everybody else - after all a bit of constructive criticism never goes amiss. It turns out I’m not a bad interviewer as nobody else today has asked him what his favorite gig of the summer was. Turns out that most people seem to be grilling him about his relation to the New Cross scene that’s becoming more popular, although Carl says he doesn’t really feel a connection to it, as he was raised in Sweden, and only moved to London to join the band. After scribbling out my New Cross question we continue to chat for a while, then after agreeing to meet for a beer when the band play the Union in October, leave it at that. So next time you meet someone in a band and they turn out to be a cock just remember not everyone in a band is a cokesniffingslutdevouringselloutwhore. SO DON’T JUDGE.
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Features
grfeatures@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01 05 04
Tell me, where is the man in my womanhood? This fortnight, Features asks whether feminism still has a place in society. Sophia Lawry finds more questions than answers
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have cellulite (but I still let my boyfriend see my bottom). Sometimes I don’t shave my legs (but I still wear short skirts). My underwear is not small and pastelcoloured with flowers embroidered all over it (and you should see what I wear during my period – or perhaps what I really mean, is that you wouldn’t want to). My point is that I don’t conform to a masculine ideal. Yet, were I ever to visit Stepford I like to think that I would not shrivel up with spine-chilling embarrassment. Feminism may have meant that most of the population has come to terms with the fact that women generally bear only the faintest of passing resemblances to Princess Barbie. However, there is an altogether far more worrying female stereotype being perpetuated in popular culture. Her most common name is Bridget Jones, but she goes by many other pseudonyms. It just depends upon what ‘chick-lit’ novel you read, or what film or TV programme you watch. She no longer has to have the tiara or the castle, but she still has to want them. When I recently saw Jimmy Carr, he claimed that all men can be divided into two categories: T or A. This sort
of fetish about a particular part of the female anatomy seems normal at first. It is only upon closer analysis that you realise that it is all too incongruous. Curves are the result of fat deposits intended to sustain a female during pregnancy. Supposedly a J-Lostyle behind is attractive because it tells a man’s subconscious that she would be able to bear his offspring. Breasts are supposedly the subject of fetishes for similar reasons. Yet on a slim woman, overly enlarged breasts are usually a sign of endocrine derangement. Surely, a healthy woman shouldn’t have to create the illusion of what Germaine Greer termed ‘pneumatic boobs’, faking disease within her body, in order to convince a man that she is, in fact, healthy enough to carry his babies. And this in the knowledge that once her breasts start to sag or scar, showing signs of use, they slowly cease to be attractive and become objects of distaste. It’s not that I am anti-men. I just don’t want someone with no experience of being female trying to tell me how to be a woman. I don’t want to burn my bras, but I also don’t want to get up half an hour early to ‘ceramic’
my hair. I don’t want to be defined by my gender, and furthermore nor do I want to define my gender. All I want is to be allowed to live my life the way I choose with, or without, my own take on femininity. Eventually I will leave student-dom behind to take my place in the real world. I won’t want to be haunted by the fact that, on average, men earn larger salaries than women. If I did (Shock! Horror!) earn more than my partner, I would want him to be proud and pleased for me rather than feel that his manhood is somehow threatened. This is the crux of the problem. We should be stable enough to endure the cycle of dominance and submission that tarnishes male–female relations. All social groups, whether majorities or minorities, male or female, adults or youngsters, believers or non-believers should be able to maintain their own identity without having to demean others. Each individual should also be allowed to have an identity independent of any group into which they should happen to fit, should he or she choose.
But Quirine Robbins finds it hard to return the favour
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andering into a classroom at my high school and finding only girls, an unwitting student teacher asked me where the boys were; he needed someone to help him carry boxes. It had always bugged me that teachers insisted on asking for ‘big strong boys’. Not that I have any muscles myself, but I know plenty of girls who do. I may just have exploded this frustration on the poor student teacher. Suitably chastened, he asked me to carry the boxes and I couldn’t refuse. It wasn’t the time to mention the small fortune my parents were paying for the chiropractors to fix my bad back. It now turns out that this may have been my one feminist act. According to one website, feminism involves "a commitment to action as much as a range of ideas". It seems it’s not enough to just believe in equal rights, a girl’s gotta go and do something about getting them. This proviso pretty much counts me and all my friends out. A quick straw poll reveals that although, of course, we all believe in gender equality, a sexist comment is more likely to make us laugh than make us angry. I carry a secret guilt with me about this. While women all over the world still suffer shocking subjugation I’m quite happily pottering along, just get-
ting on with my life. To reassure myself about my feminist credentials I took a test on www.quizilla.com. Questions included "Madonna is a feminist. True/False?" "Feminists believe that men are from Mars and women are from Venus: True/False?" and, mysteriously, "Beer is a) low maintenance, b) polyamorous, c) readily available and d) yucky. I took a wild guess on option ‘c’ and pressed the ‘submit’ button with trepidation. I was rewarded with the announcement: "Congratulations, you are a feminist." Well that’s alright then. Except that, I’m still not sure I possess the necessary fire and passion for the cause. A feminist article in the Guardian informs me that I’m supposed to find chick lit, with its emphasis on finding a man, inexcusably offensive. Now, I often find the cheesy writing and obvious plot twists an insult, but I can’t say I mind the morals. I watched Bridget Jones’s Diary with a group of girls from all over the world and every one of us loved it and identified with some small part of her general incompetence. Flicking through the book, I try to work up some outrage when Bridget writes: "There's nothing quite so unattractive to a man as a strident feminist." But then, as the author, Helen Fielding says, we women haven’t come very far if we can’t laugh at ourselves. As a last ditch attempt to ignite my passion for gender politics, I ring my cousin. Andrea left home at fifteen, travelled alone through third world countries, overcame a crippling case of RSI and set up New Zealand’s most successful mountain biking company. Now back in Britain, she job shares with her husband while they bring up their baby daughter. She is my political pin-up girl, surely she’ll persuade me to ditch my feminist apathy? "I used to be a feminist," she tells me, then adds: "until I got better educated." It turns out, that motherhood has transformed Andrea’s views. Looking back, she found that none of the feminist texts of the fifties were written by mothers. She thinks their suggestion that women could have it all, children and career, has made women into mortgage slaves, eternally guilty because they can’t spend enough time at home or in the office. Ironically, the only people she believes have benefited are the men, who no longer have to be the sole wage earner. I can’t subscribe to this pessimistic
Features 11
view. I’m grateful to the early feminists for the opportunities and possibilities they fought so hard for. In our early twenties my friends and I are just starting our careers and glass ceilings seem far enough away to be just an illusion. Motherhood, too, hardly registers on our radar. Some friends hope to work after they have children, some hope their partner will support them. Will we still feel like this in ten years time? Do gender differences only begin to show as you progress in your career? Or when we suddenly have to start negotiating career breaks and school runs? None of my friends call themselves a feminist. Is this apathy? Ingratitude? Naïvety? One woman told me: "I don’t have to think about being a feminist because I was raised the same as my brother. I always felt equal." I can say the same of my childhood. Now, instead of feeling guilty, should I just be glad that I don’t have to think about being a feminist any more? For my lucky peers, the world is full of options and adventures. We don’t worry about our gender because it hasn’t held us back so far. How much would the school-less Afghani girls, the child brides of Pakistan, the unwanted Chinese daughters and the many other unlucky millions give to be able to say that?
12 Features Hannah Perry finds that the truth is out there. But if you want to find it, you have to get Googling
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ost of us are increasingly coming to rely upon the Internet. While we claim to use it for work-related research, it is equally good for work-avoidance. Regardless, the fact is that we have gotten to the point where we would struggle without it. Does the Internet deserve its prominent position in society? In search of the truth, I asked it some FAQs. Before I started on the really gritty stuff I warmed up with a few no-brainers...
Who really is Tiger Woods? Google: According to (the some might say slightly deluded) John Ziegler on tigerwoodsisgod.com, the "true" messiah, and his deserves celebrating. I am not sure if am really willing to believe anything in my quest for the truth. Ask Jeeves: "The dude plays golf. And there are high school kids, angsty high school kids, with his poster in their rooms. Golf. That blows my mind." Buddy, you’re not the only one.
Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near? Google: It is because you are a statue, my dear. Birds, mostly of the pigeon-icarus variety, like suddenly appearing and putting the poop upon the statues. Birds appear because you are in an Alfred Hitchcock movie. With the decline of the telecom industry the carrier pigeon is coming back into favour. Ask Jeeves: I dunno but you might want to get it checked out by a doctor or something. To get to the other side. Because you ate too many red and yellow pills and not enough blue ones, Can I kick it? Google: Doesn’t actually say, but according to Bob’s football, Egg Chaser, Kylie and The Saint all can. Ask Jeeves: ‘Soccer's rapid-fire decision making and line dancing's memory work’ mean that, yes, you can. How clean is your house? Google: Again, doesn’t really give a straight answer, but does lead you to the knowledge that when your house is clean it will be apprecieated by the users of outinamerica.com. ‘Gay men are much cleaner than straight men’.
Ask Jeeves: sends you to listorganizer.com for help staying on track with your goals. So that’s where students go wrong is it? Not enough of the lists. Scaramouch, Scaramouch, will you do the fandango? Google: offers the Valley Girl translation: I'm just one poor boy, fer shure, I require negative sympathy / Because I'm quite simple come, like, quite simple go / A small high, oh, baby, small low / I observe one little silhouetto of
one man / Scaramouch, mostly, scaramouch will you do thuh Fandango / Thunderbolt and lightnin' / super super frightenin' me. Ask Jeeves: gives us the Italian-andback-via-a-computer translation: They are not a defficient boy / They have the necessity of the right of the compassion / Since then that had come simply, simply takeoff you, little, little a minimum / Small silhouetto of one man / Scaramouch, Scaramouch, can fandango of forming it? / Screw of the lightning and the ray, it that alarms much Galileo very!
What’s the point? Google: X, Y=0, 2. Yet somewhat cryptically, this does change every time you click the mouse. Ask Jeeves: says that it is the ‘vertex of the angle’, or more specifically the bit ‘where the rays intersect.’ Comprehensive, I think you will agree. Does my bum look big in this? Google: ‘New 3D digital cameras … can capture data for face and body mapping…’ so you can find out for sure. Ask Jeeves: says that according to genius.com, an anagram of this question is ‘Is the moody bimbo sulking’. No comment. You talkin’ to me? Google: [Into a mirror.] Travis Bickle: You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? Then who the hell else are you talkin' to? You talkin' to me? Well I'm the only one here. Who do you think you're talking to? Oh yeah? Huh? Ok. Ask Jeeves: Romany crafts offer a me to you teddy bear cross stitch So far, so ambiguous. Time for the deep and meaningfuls.
is this: the only way we can be happy ourselves is to follow God's directives and make other people happy. While we are at it, let’s see if the Internet can answer some of the burning conundrums that life presents us with. What has he got that I haven’t? Google: Military forum says that he has a rank. Ask Jeeves: He’s got the monkeys, he’s got the monkeys. Conclusive? No. Why can’t women put mascara on with their mouths shut? Google: To stretch the skin they are applying mascara to, allowing for better coverage. Does this person really think that mascara goes on your skin? What do they think eyelashes are made of? Is there a god? Google: Spoof news website interviewed some minor celebrities. Their answers range from ‘Absolutely,’ to ‘Absolutely not,’ via ‘I have his phone number,’ ‘You’ll have to ask Jesus,’ ‘There is a God, but he doesn’t like show business,’ ‘Well, I used to be an atheist, until I found out I was God,’ ‘I don’t believe God is a single parent who writes books,’ and the rather procrastinating ‘I don’t think that’s for me to determine.’ Ask Jeeves: says that according to the American Life Helping Institiute, ‘The answer will surprise you’. Strangely though, it doesn’t actually say what that answer is, or how it will surprise you.
What is the meaning of life? Google: rather cryptically it just gives a lot more questions. Attack being the best defence and all that. For examle, What really matters? What’s this business with 42? How can I become a better person? How can I change the world? Is there a conflict between science and religion? Ask Jeeves: Meaning-of-life.info tells me that "The meaning of life is to prove ourselves worthy of eternal happiness." The little-understood paradox
Ask Jeeves: ‘Alice asks me to help her apply her mascara because she doesn’t know how. She uses it and she brushes the mascara onto her eyebrow, and says to me, "Look Kat. See? How can I make it look good?" So I tell her, well for one thing, that’s your eyebrow, you put mascara on your eyelashes, which are HERE. And I show her like, I hold her hand and put her hand on top of her eyelashes to show her where they are.’ See boys? In comparison with this, your girlfriend isn’t as incompetent as you think. Why do doctors only ever ‘practice’? Google: Because "to practice" means "to actively do". It has the alternate, specific meaning of "to do it to get better at it", but that's not it's primary, or only, meaning. Ask Jeeves: can’t really say but judging by the number of websites it gives advising doctors to improve their prac-
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tices I can’t be the only one who is concerned... Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar? Google: Violet. As you can see by the photo, it’s not a pretty sight. Ask Jeeves: ‘Genna stole cookies from the cookie jar! Momma's gonna be mad... But how can she be with a face as cute as that!?’ Well I’m damned if I know. I’m supposed to be the one asking the questions. And whoever it was, posters on Jedi Community Council are spending a lot of time trying to find out. Why is ‘abbreviated’ such a long word? Google: that’s why we have ‘abb’ Ask Jeeves: ‘Because it has to be.’ And ‘For the same reason that we should always eschew obfuscation.’ I think someone’s been using word-ofthe-day toilet paper. Apart from their annoying tendency to distort your question by deleting common words, such as ‘why’, these search engines can usually direct you to some kind of answer. Probably not the sort of answer you had in mind, but an answer nonetheless. I have come to the conclusion that Google hasn’t prompted the invention of its very own verb just by having a pretty face. Jeeves, on the other hand, should be relegated to the butlers pantry. What they are both very good at is thinking outside of the box.
T r a v e l
grtravel@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01 09 04
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With this summer’s Olympics Greece hit the headlines, yet neighbouring Sicily is overflowing with reminders of the nation of thinkers. Sarah Cummins discovers a corner of Sicily with gladiators, islets and silent frogs.
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aormina on the North East coast of Sicily is home to a Greek theatre with a view to rival the Acropolis. The theatre is carved out of the hillside and offers panoramic views of Southern Calabria, the Sicilian coastline and cloud permitting, snow capped Mount Etna of nearby Catania. Greek in origin, the Romans revamped the theatre for its gladiators in the 1st century AD. Previously a hot spot for celebs, Taormina’s prices reflect its popularity but makes for an excellent long weekend or even day trip from nearby Catania. Entrance to the theatre can vary: with a flash of my student card I was allowed in free, while other times I paid the reduced rate of 2.50 euros. Other than the theatre itself, there isn’t a great deal to see. My advice is simply grab some tavola calda from a
nearby café and head up for a picnic with the view of a lifetime. Lanes along the main street, Via Umberto, lead off to cosy but expensive restaurants until you reach Piazza IX Aprile. Offering another panoramic view and on clear days a fantastic vista of Etna and Calabria this piazza is a photographer’s dream and a great spot for people-watching. Weddings are big in Sicily and couples getting married at the church in the Piazza walk through the town followed by all their guests - a passeggiata with a difference. If the beach is more your thing then you can’t beat unforgettable Isola Bella. A little difficult to reach by foot, the easiest and quickest route down is the cable car, but it’s well worth it. On reaching the bottom turn right at the road and follow it up until a set of steps come up on the left. The beach-fronted hotels own most of the first stretch of beach but it’s easy enough to hire chairs and umbrellas if you fancy it. Otherwise, carry on round and the islet will come into view. As is the case with most beaches in Sicily it is pebbled but this means clear water and jellyfish. Although not deadly, they do sting and believe me it hurts. Having been to Taormina a dozen times with friends and family visiting me in Catania my last trip was my most memorable. I had read about a gorge and was determined to visit it before I left. The Alcantara Valley lies an hour outside of Taormina and buses leave from the main station three times a day in the summer. The bus ride is worth it in itself, winding itself through the valley and alongside the river. Getting off at the Gola di Alcantara the entrance was really
touristy, a restaurant, bar and car park. From here you can also rent thigh length boots and salopetti for serious waders. We were short on time so simply climbed down the steps and into our cossies. The view was amazing; it was mid June and not too busy. Walking beside the river we got as far as we could without getting wet and plonked ourselves down for some bathing. The water was freezing. Having spent the last couple of months regularly swimming at the beach, freezing water was not what I was expecting, nor were the frogs! The gorge is full of them - harmless but unnerving none the less. If you like all things Greek but don’t fancy the Faliraki bar crawls then Taormina is worth checking out; despite its touristy persona there are fantastic beaches, beautiful architecture and views worthy of the Gods.
Want to write for Travel? Had an adventure you want to share this summer? A gap year from hell? We want to hear your travel tales. Send your articles to grtravel@cf.ac.uk or drop them into the gair rhydd office on the fourth floor of the students’ union. Articles should be between 300 and 600 words. If you have any queries contact the section editors at grtravel@cf.ac.uk. Quench meetings are at 5.15 on Mondays at the gair rhydd office
16 Travel
Tokyo’s mini cities Tiffany’s jewellery, robodogs and tofu. Will Dean discovers the delights of one of Japan’s busiest cities.
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s we land in Narita Airport it quickly hits me. What the bloody hell am I doing here? Our summer holiday to the land of the rising sun (first and last Japanese cliché, I promise) had been booked on the theory that Bill and Scarlett seemed to have a fair bit of fun in Lost In Translation and Japan’s pretty cool... right? So here we are, minus a plan, and the ability to communicate with other people. Thank God for Rough Guides. Thankfully (and I mean THANKFULLY, as we would still be standing in the airport now) many Japanese people can speak very good English and we soon found ourselves on a train into the middle of the most confusing city in the world. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Tokyo. Rush hour starts at about 6am and continues until about December but fortunately it’s reasonably easy to get around. The colour coded subway system and signs in English allow you to get across the city cheaply and quickly. Once you get out of the subway though it’s a different matter. Even the taxi drivers here have to stop and ask for directions. Like our own dirty, overcrowded and overpriced megalopolis, London, Tokyo is divided into several distinct areas. Without one specific downtown area to investigate we decided to see how much we could discover in Tokyo’s minicities such as Ginza, Shinjuku and Harajuku. By mini-cities you must
The Meiji Jingu Shrine, Harajuku understand that this means mini as part of Tokyo as a whole; individually they lead the provincial cities of Britain trailing in terms of sheer size, range and energy. Ah well, we’ve got a week to look around. First, we ventured to the central district of Ginza, figuring that we’d work our way outwards before we escaped to the countryside. Upon leaving GinzaChome metro station we were met with the overwhelming view of the area’s main shopping block, Ginza 4-Chome. This street alone has enough boutiques to help give Carrie Bradshaw an aneurysm. Tiffany’s, Louis Vuitton and Burberry among others compete with huge Japanese departments stores for space. If I were a rich businessman with money to burn I’d have probably loved it. Unfortunately I’m a poor student, so we moved on. Ginza is home to the Sony Building where visitors can browse and buy the latest technologies from Japan’s leading electronics firm. They even have those robo-dogs you used to see on TV. Again I couldn’t quite afford one of those but I bought the next best thing a new battery for my MiniDisc. At this stage it was time to sample some Japanese food. We trawled around Ginza for a good hour to find what we had figured to be a ‘kind of Japanese Beefeater’. Tengu, it turns out, wasn’t quite what we expected. Scared of eating fish I went for an adventurous Caesar salad. My plucky companions took more of a risk and
pointed at the things that looked most like a chicken korma (they’re from Birmingham). Unfortunately the succulent dish we waited three quarters of an hour for was actually a toxic blend of baby sick and tofu. Screw being adventurous, where was that T.G.I. Fridays again? Right, we’d had enough of that - time to check out the nightlife of Tokyo’s premiere clubbing district, and a favourite of ex-pats, or at least drunk western business men looking for hostess girls, Roppongi. We had a good old wander until we found a few bars and got suitably harassed by the ushers outside. It turns out drinking in Tokyo isn’t cheap (something about tea in the middle ages apparently - ask your local pub bore). At a fiver a pint it was spirits time, so we headed to a branch of Japan’s ‘best’ chain of nightclubs. Lesson learnt: Even in a city as alive as this, not many people go clubbing on a Monday night. About four people, three of them westerners, greeted us as we entered Gas Panic! We ordered the local special, three White Russians, and sat at the bar making chit chat with the barman who duly informed us that on rowdier nights, like national days of mourning, there were another few floors to open to the clientele. Suffice to say Roppongi wasn’t exactly banging that night. However we did manage to find a fair old crowd
watching the England game at the Sports Café. After that negotiating the Metro blind drunk at 5am was a lot of fun, to say the least. Like many an eastern city, Tokyo is littered with beautiful shrines. Some are just dotted around backstreets while others have their own citysized park. On a day out in Harajuku we ventured to the important Meiji Jingu shrine; this huge wooden structure dates from 1920 and commemorates an early twentieth century admiral. The rest of Harajuku couldn’t be more a contrast with streets lined with kitsch shops for ultra-fashionable Japanese as well as boulevards featuring exclusive designers. Suffice to say it is hard to get around in Tokyo without waltzing into some kind of shopping district or another. The Shinjuku area of western Tokyo features some of the world’s tallest buildings, including the stunning double peaked Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, designed by acclaimed architect Tange Kenzo. The epicentre of Shinjuku is the world’s busiest train station; even at ten in the evening it’s so busy as to be unviable. Shinjuku is a hub of activity, central to Tokyo business, entertainment and transport. We managed to find ourselves in the red light district with some equally lost Canadians but it was worth it as we managed to drunkenly discover the joy that is a private karaoke booth. What transpired there might have been painful to Japanese ears but it did prove to us that it’s possible to have a good time no matter what time in Tokyo. What does hit you about Tokyo’s
nightlife is that it has more porn than Gary Kasparov. In the trendy areas of Shibuya, Roppongi and Shinjuku, hostesses line the streets and neon clad love hotels can be found on every corner. However this is often more innocent than it seems. Young couples trying to escape family tensions often use love hotels and the hostesses are paid extortionate amounts just to accompany businessmen to dinner. Still, for a city renowned for its tidiness and lack of crime the seediness does leave a bad taste in the mouth (insert your own pun here). There’s a few more obvious tourist attractions dotted around Tokyo. The Imperial Palace, home to Emporer Akihito, is located right in the centre of the city. However high security means visitors can only enter the Palace grounds on national holidays. The slightly tackier Tokyo Tower is a red remake of the Eiffel Tower. Although the skyscrapers of Shinjuku offer a vastly superior view, the Tower has remained a popular choice for visitors and on clear days it is possible to see neighbouring Mount Fuji and Tokyo Disneyland. Speaking of Fuji, we spent three days of our holiday venturing to find the deified mount. Unfortunately we found ourselves being held to ransom over hotel prices and on the return visit we climbed a neighbouring mountain only to find that on the day we went (the first day of Fuji’s popular climbing season no less) it was far too foggy to see the mountain that stood less than a few kilometres away. After this we gave up and bought a postcard instead. Unlike Bangkok and Sydney, Tokyo
Postcards from France By Robert Sharples, Bordeaux t the end of September I’m moving to France to spend a year abroad as part of my French degree. I’ll be working part-time as an English assistant in a French college, and probably living in a house owned by the school. In my head it’ll be all cool pavement cafés, relaxed Gallic shrugs and sexy Paris chic, even a bit of sunshine if I’m lucky. The students will be friendly and will tell me all the best places to go. There’ll be a nice bar on the corner where we can drink Kronenbourg and red wine while someone sings Edith Piaf songs to an old gramophone. Maybe not. This week’s headache has been trying to open a French bank account. The formality demanded in writing a short letter has made getting any post a good reason to hide under the bed. There are so many ways of just saying ‘yours truly’, all with their own degrees of respect and familiarity, and all of them are at least a line or two long.
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may not be considered an obvious stop-off for backpackers. However, there is so much to do and discover here that stopping for a few days would be thoroughly worthwhile. We left with the feeling that, while we got a snapshot of life in Tokyo, there is almost too much too discover. The efficiency of the transport and, well, just about everything, makes it easy to get around, although it is imperative to avoid the busiest times of the day and national holidays. The only other worry is prices. While not a great deal cheaper than Britain, going out in Japan can be expensive, as can that great Japanese hobby shopping. Tokyo and the rest of Japan can make for the holiday of a lifetime, but next time I’ll take my platinum card.
Even without leaving Britain, I’m beginning to get an idea that there are two sides of this country. One is a relaxed, cool café culture, the other is formal and a minefield to unwary foreigners like me. One good thing is that I’ve heard the French don’t get upset if I forget to call the people ‘vous’. Apparently they think it’s hilarious to see us struggling, which is just as well. They are paying me to speak English, after all.
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grfashion@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01.09.04
We know where it’s at When you move to a new place it’s hard to know where the best places are to shop. You really need someone with a bit of experience to point you in the right direction. Luckily, Perri Lewis is on hand to guide you through a whistle stop tour of some of Fashion Desk’s favourite haunts. To make sure you stay down with the kids on the street, Legends, situated on Queen’s Street is the ideal place to buy your urban clothing. It stocks the typical Hooch, Miss Sixty and a good helping of David and Goliath. Just around the corner you can find a branch of Freespirit where you can find big surfing brands such as Animal and O’Neil. Quiksilver also has its own branch in the Capital Centre and Route One of the Morgan Arcade provides Cardiff with more alternative surf and skatewear. At university one of the best investments you can make is buying a good pair of jeans. Suitable for both day and night, they can be teamed with almost anything to suit the occassion. Road, situated in High Street Arcade is a fantastic place for both girls and guys to get good quality jeans, as is Cardiff Jeans Co. of St. Marys Street If you’ve cottoned onto the fact that you’re going to be broke for the next few years, then you’ve probably already started scowering in second hand shops. Luckily for all you spend thrifts and retro-freaks, Cardiff has its fair share of simply amazing second hand and vintage boutiques. Hobo’s of High Street Arcade is the best place to find 70s, 80s and unique stuff, whilst I Claudius Clothing in Castle Arcade boasts an in-house tailor to ensure you never miss a bargain because it doesn’t quite fit. Although a cheque with a hefty four-figure sum may have just been placed in your hand, unfortunatly you have to supress that craving to splash it out on a pair of beautiful Jimmy Choos. Instead, why not head down to Buzz & Co., two of Cardiff’s premier shoe shops, found at either sides of High Street Arcade. Just a few steps away at the entrance of the arcade is Eccentrix, a shoe shop for the more feistily natured. Alternatively, make your way to the top of Queen’s Street where you’ll find the nations favourite, Schuh.
Fashion Desk is often criticised for ignoring men on it’s pages so this year we promise to make a conscious effort to include as much as we can for our male readers. Drooghi is perhaps one of Cardiff’s most famous men’s shops; described by The Face as ‘one of the best shops on earth’, it stocks an array of t-shirts and even offers clothes from it’s own label ‘Rather Not Say’. Also to be found in Castle Arcade is Gokyo which offers a similar style of streetwear clothing. Although second to Cardiff fantastic independent stores, it’s always useful to know where the highstreet gems are; you’ll find Topshop along Queen Street, along with River Island, Next, Envy and New Look. Oasis, Kookai and H & M are situated within the Capitol Centre and Miss Selfridges, Faith and USC can be found in the linking St. David’s shopping centre and Queens Arcade. This is by no means a complete list of all the shops Cardiff has to offer, but there’s a couple more that really should be mentioned. Chessman is the place to get all your trendy labels from and is situated in Castle Arcade and equally as expensive but with far lesss recognisable brands is Hudson and Hudson in the Capitol Centre. Pussy Galore is worth a visit in High Street Arcade, as is the massive Howells, Cardiff’s branch of House of Frasier, where you can literally buy anything you could ever wish for,
You don’t really know your flat mates and you have no idea where to buy the cheapest pint. The last thing you need is to be worrying about what to wear on your first few big nights out at the Union. By Perri Lewis, Fashion Editor
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un Factory is the Union’s only alternative night and a chance for those who want to escape Creation to come out and play. There’s generally two types of people who frequent Solus on a Monday night; those who care about what they look like and those who don’t. Those who don’t genuinely don’t; they simply throw on whatever they find on the back of their chair. Baggy jeans, their 1998 Reading t-shirt, whatever comes to hand. They will always look alternative because they have no regard for current trends. Then there’s those who do care, but want to appear like they don’t care. They are just like, so rock and roll man. They wear blazers, badges and studded belts from Topshop and would just love to own anything from Punk Royal. Although they’d strongly deny it, they only really started dressing like this when Avril Lavinge sprung into the charts pouting about her middle class angst. But whether you care or not, at Fun Factory you won’t feel out of place wearing your everyday clothes. You really don’t have to make a huge effort at all, unless you want to try and out-rock everyone else. Wednesday sees Solus become your average student nightclub. Except Wednesdays are a little bit special because it’s societies night. However, it is not only the excitement from Wednesday afternoon matches that spills over into the evenings fes-
tivities. At Rubber Duck people will be mostly wearing… their team shirts. Whether it be Psychology Football or Cardiff Rowers, team members come out in force on Wednesdays by wearing their personalised shirts. This often makes Rubber Duck seem liked a closed party, but you soon notice that there are just as many people out with their friends who choose not to don a society shirt. If you do become part of a society, this is the night to show your allegiance and flaunt your new membership through what you wear. But don’t avoid the union if you’re just out with friends; dress up in whatever you’d normally wear to a club. But if it’s a theme night, who knows what everybone else will be wearing. Weekend nights often see club hitch up their dress codes. Go into town on a Friday and Saturday night in a pair of Nikes and be prepared to be refused entry to a whole host of places. But march into Lashtastic or Come Play in your jeans and trainers and no one will bat an eye lid. Thanks to the Union’s no-dress-code policy you can be as smart or as casual as you like, but most tend to opt for typical evening attire. Fashion Desk isn’t trying to tell you what to wear, it’s just an overview of what we’ve spotted. There really is no dress code: anything goes. But for those of you who are anxious about what everyone else will be wearing, maybe this will help you plan your wardrobe for your first couple of weeks.
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The fashion misadventures of
lily griffiths Episode One. Lily learns to live on a student budget and discovers a nasty rash. Three grand isn’t a lot really. It’s about 18,750 Sherbet Dips, a couple of trips to Kavos or the sleeve of a Versace dress. I contemplated the last option; stretching it could have been transformed into some kind of strapless dress. But with all this fuss about student debt I figured I’d better not spend my whole loan straight away. Not on just a sleeve anyway. The sleeve got me thinking; if I could stretch it to make a whole dress then maybe I could stretch my loan to pay for my whole year’s wardrobe. I mean, couture dresses are just about as skimpy as the council’s contribution towards my survival in higher education anyway. Making my own clothes seemed like a good idea at the time. Except I can’t sew, so I can’t make my own clothes. But the thought got the spendthrift side of me thinking; Sienna Miller seems to be getting away with the Oxfam look so why can’t I? I took a gander at the local charity shops and I found that they had a lot to offer, but when I got home I found the only thing my new outfits offered me was an itchy rash. Since realising that my skin must have expensive taste I took to wearing my old wardrobe. Bought preUniversity it weren’t no Primark shit. But after being mistaken for a sailor at the Bay I think I’ll be discarding last season’s nautical look. My quest for budgeting successfully has been pretty unsuccessful. So instead I’ve decided to become a binge shopper. Rather than buying sensibly throughout the week I’ll save my cash for weekend benders around the arcades. If students can tolerate the gluttony of Wednesday nights at Metros then I can’t see why they won’t abide my similar clothesorientated splurges now and again.
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Quench 01 09 04
grgay@cf.ac.uk
LGBB
Big Brother camps it up By Ian Loynd Gay Editor
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ig Brother 5 is possibly the worst advert for homosexuality this century. Channel 4 executives have demonstrated that ratings matter but advocating racism, classism and religious hatred does not. Producers selected an infuriatingly nasty bunch to dominate our screens over the summer: The incessant shrill of law student Marco drove me to homophobic fits of anger. Black contestant Victor was a self-righteous bigot. Muslim asylum seeker, Ahmed, was lazy and narrow-minded. Clearly not the best ambassadors for their respective minority groups. Yet, as devastatingly unwise as this choice of competitors was, it did provide the entertainment the programme so desperately required to
grgay@cf.ac.uk By Ian Loynd Section Editor
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his Saturday, 30,000 people will visit Cardiff for the annual Mardi Gras. The festival always reminds me that LGB students are lucky to live in such a vibrant and accepting city. As the first gay section in British student media we aim to represent LGB students, their causes and concerns as well as entertain our readers. Look out in the coming issues for Mardi Gras and club reviews as well as our grand tour of the Cardiff scene. We’ve also compiled some top ten lists of the best websites, books and films. Your comments and contributions are, as always, welcome.
survive a fifth series. Should we, therefore, forgive the creators for this obvious exploitation of the contestants? Do such programmes really influence the view of the nation? The British media is a power holding clique. Our political apathy and couch potato culture provides television moguls with an unparalleled strength. Do we really believe what we are told on TV? This is the time for change for gay people in Britain. The law is moving toward providing equality faster than ever before and our straight counterparts cannot keep up. It may not be long until a same sex couple can marry, but it will be even longer until they can hold hands in public. Therein lies the importance of television. Law reform is essential, but it is the understanding of the people that will truly provide acceptance of homosexuals in our society. The representation of minority groups in the media should be a considered and mindful act. Big Brother 5 has belittled homosexuality by reinforcing the damaging stereotypes gay people have tried to quash for generations. We must be realistic, however. The influence of BB5 will not extend to inciting homophobic violence on St Mary Street on a Saturday night in town. But if I were a young lesbian student, would I want to be represented to the nation by Kitten? Meow.
By Dan Smith Reporter
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escribed by Attitude as ‘the campest yet’, Marco, Nadia and Dan have been dumped in the playground and expected to perform from day one. Marco, Jazz hands from the outset, is a clear example that Big Brother chose contestants to provoke and stir both inside the house and out. Some people loved his exuberance, campness and in your face style. I, on the other hand, wanted to club the seal repeatedly. Dan provided a counter balance; a personality that was less irritating and more socially aware. He was reasoned, mature and capable to hold his own in debates and conversations without screaming like a banshee. He just happened to be a man who slept with men. First evictee, Kitten, was a raging feminist lesbian. She snugly fitted into all the clichés; short hair, aggressive and mouthy. Nothing wrong with this, of course, but feminine lesbians anyone? Nadia was this year’s major surprise. The Portuguese transsexual has admitted her main reason for appearing on the show was acceptance into society. Taunts from crowds outside the house show that idiots still think transsexuals are figures to mock. Her tears proved her to be fragile and human. Beefed up to the nines Jason let Dan rub lotion on his backside and fantastic it was too. Jason was a moody bugger but he showed that homosexuals aren’t a threat to straight men.
Review of the week Quench 01 09 04
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To Hell and back HELLBOY Dir: Guillermo Del Toro Starring: Ron Perlman, John Hurt, Selma Blair
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ased on Mike Mignola’s little known cult comic of the same name, Hellboy is the latest comicbook adaptation in an already bloated summer of spandex and superheroes. Thankfully, with the watchful eye of horror maestro Del Toro, this latest offering contains enough consummate originality and kinetic energy to sustain its at times implausible premise. Raised from the depths of hell in 1944 Hellboy (Perlman) is the Nazi’s last desperate attempt to save the war. During the ceremony of black magic there begins a conflict and the crimson red baby, Hellboy, is saved by Professor Broom (Hurt) to be raised to fight the very evil that sustained his existence. Devoid of the clumsy pretensions of Daredevil and the sermonising tendencies of Spiderman, Hellboy grunts and cigar chomps his way through demons and devils alike with workmanlike aplomb. The cinematography is lush and opulent: crimson reds; silvery blacks; and decadent golds all serve to retain the paper page feel of a faithful comic book adaptation. In the lead Perlman is characteristically gruff and lends a deep and dull sardonic tone to this most traditional of anti-heroes. Amongst the collective of foes Hellboy must thunderously vanquish is a reborn evil monk named Rasputin with a affectation for velvet and a nearimmortal Nazi assassin with a penchant for black pvc, and extendable kitchen knifes. In terms of pure spectacle Hellboy is a sledgehammer of a film carefully lined with industrially gothic architecture and blue-collar personal ethics. With echoes of Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Ring, and The Matrix this is a buff superhero film worthy of your attention. It also has the most pertinent riff of a Nick Cave song this side of Scream. Ultimately a mish-mash of Nazi bric-a-brac, superhero salutations, and joyfully narcissistic comic permutations this Rogan Josh Samurai DevilMonkey is wonderfully imagined and expertly executed. Craig Driver
Hellboy: Spawn of Satan
24 M u s i c
Quench 17 11 03
grmagazine@cf.ac.uk
Whatever happened to......? Quench finally gets to hear the new Libertines album THE LIBERTINES The Libertines
Rough Trade Unless you’ve been living in an underground bunker for the last year, you couldnt have escaped the stories that have circulated around the making of this album. To sum it up as shortly as possible: Pete leaves, band go on. Pete goes to jail, comes out and rejoins band and everything is peachy. But not for long. After his refusal to lay off the smack Pete gets his arse kicked out of the band again. In between this are a million other things that have happened which you all probably know about already, so I wont bore you by going into them again, by the time this comes out something else will know doubt have happened. Maybe the bassist will turn out to be gay. Let’s be honest at
9/10 this moment nothing would be a shock. In between all of this they’ve managed to make an album. But where most bands would try and put their troubles behind them the Libertines have used their ongoing fued as the main source of insperation. Songs such as What became of theLikely Lads and recent single Cant stand me now show how Pete and Carl are’nt afraid to air their dirty laundry in public. Listening to the album is almost like sitting in on a row between the two. It almost makes you feel guilty, like you shouldnt be listening, but you cant help it because the songs are so good. The band have improved technically from their debut. They sound a lot tighter on this record whilst still retaining their “it could all fuck up any
second” sound provided by returning producer Mick Jones. Pete and Carl have always had a close relationship to their fans, whether it’s playing secret gigs in their flat, or posting messages on their website, they have always made themselves available to their fans; A trait which has long been missing from many bands who tend to go up their own arse’s as soon as they become moderatley succesful. In this album you get to hear exactly how Pete and Carl feel towards each other and it aint pretty - two security guards were in place during recording sessions. After listening to the album you dont know whether or not to feel happy, because it’s good, or sad because it may be their last record together. Time will tell... Jon Davies
THE PRODIGY 5 Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned XL
After seven years I dearly wanted a good face fucking by the Prodigy. A sub par sonic assault is barely even a bunch of flowers. Guest vocalists do little to hide that, in an attempt to steer away from his legacy, Howlett has lost the edge that created it. Rich Samuels
BJORK
9
Medula
8
Solarized
One Little Indian Bjork's banged out more great songs than Paris Hilton has banged hot dinners, she's been consistently one of the most innovative main streamartists of the last 15 years and she has retained complete artistic integrity. Working with voice manipulators, such as Rahzel and Dokaka, both incredible human beat boxers; some Inuit throat singer (think Cookie monster) and that wacky bastard Mike Patton, Bjork has managed to strip out all but the simplest of instrumentation like the odd ivory tinkle and synth bass. The human produced layers of noise here sound and feel better than the squelchiest sex you've ever had - utterly fascinating Rich Samuels
SECRET MACHINES
IAN BROWN Fiction
Albums THE THRILLS Let’s Bottle Bohemia Virgin
It’s not anything new or exciting but if The Thrills had released this back in June it would of made some kind of sense - it’s all lazy and sunny, exactly like their debut. Problem is it’s coming out in September when it’s just going to be irritating - I don’t want Irishmen singing in American accents when its raining outside. It’ll sell loads and dads will love it but it’s just too nice to be even vaguely interesting.
King Monkey returns with his strongest effort to date. Brown’s albums usually tend to divide opinions and this, no doubt, will continue the trend. Refusing to release sub-standard music that simply pisses on the Stone Roses legacy, Brown has made an album that sounds new and exciting. The album also includes a collaboration with Noel Gallagher, which actually isn’t shit, considering the recent form of Oasis. By adopting new influences, ranging from dance to tunes that wouldn’t sound out of place in a Kung-Fu film, Brown has made his strongest album yet and, unlike John Squire, has done it without relying on his past.
TAZ
2
Analyse This Def Jam UK
Def Jam’s website dubs Taz “the UK’s answer to Kanye West”. This alone should be enough to put most people off – add the fact that he has crawled out from under the musical stone that is Dizzee Rascal, and you should be running away screaming. The lyrics are trite, and the beats sound like they were done on a ZX Spectrum, but produced in that horrid American ‘MTV Base’ way. The highlight of this album was when I skipped through the tracks, knocked the radio on without noticing, and Notorious BIG was on Tim Westwood’s show. James Anthony
8
Now Here Is Nowhere Reprise
Juan Davis
5
Amy Hurst
Jon Davies
Although they may look like your typical garage rock band, do not be fooled. The Secret Machines are a musical force that are on a mission to make epic tunes that’ll blow your face off if you get too close. Recent single Nowhere Again demonstrates this perfectly but if you think thats big, baby, you aint seen nothing yet. Opening track, First Wave Intact, is a massive nine minutes long. That’s, like, half a Strokes album. Fans of Spiritualized, Flaming Lips and Bowie will love these and it will also add to fuel to the debate that Prog can actually be good. Just dont start wearing capes lads.
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“Hi, I’m Liam Howlett, a massive, massive wanker.”
26 Live IT WAS SUPPOSED to be remembered for the impending mud-pit that Mean Fiddler warned people against but the rain never came. Instead the 2004 festival will join the long list of folklore the festival is famed for. While the weekend will belong to blockbusting performances from Green Day, The White Stripes, The Darkness and The Offspring, many a campfire story will be told of 50 Cent and The Rasmus’ part in creating festival history. The Richmond Avenue crowd made feelings for The Rasmus felt within minutes of the bands backdrop and kit coming on stage; a torrent of bottles and mud made for a delay to proceedings in order to clean the stage even before a note was played. Upon their arrival, they lasted a mere song, sulking back to Scandinavia just six minutes into their Reading debut. 50 Cent put up greater resistance, instructing his crew to attack back with full bottles of their own. He lasted little more than 20 minutes, before storming from the Main Stage. Victory was ours. But lets not let superb performances from the likes of Auf Der Maur, Ash, Wales’ own Funeral for a Friend, and the Lostprophets get lost in the story-telling. For those of us fortunate to witness the event it will remain as one of the best of recent years, and for those who couldn’t make the event, here are but a few highlights I had the pleasure of witnessing. Sam Coare less entertaining set, facing a headline-size crowd which, despite lacking a cramming into the tiny tent. spark, delivered a heavier Lessons have been learnt. edge to the weeekend. FFAF returned to headline the Radio One stage on Saturday evening and YOUNG HEART Wales' finest ripped their way through the critically ATTACK acclaimed Casually Dressed and Deep in Conversation. Main Stage "We're gonna try some Saturday 28th, 12.45-1.20PM Karaoke," they announced America's answer to the before tearing into Juneau, Darkness proved that you with the crowd carrying the don't need cat suits, silly lyrics, screaming back every high-pitched voices, and word. And for those who annoying pop-songs to draw though Green Day's trick of a crowd. The Texans no constructing a band on nonsense, old fashioned stage was strange, how rock n' roll from the debut 100 Reasons: Yes, we did phone the number... about making two testosLP Mouthful of Love might of early songs was a disterone fuelled fans make start making people pay HUNDRED tant memory, and as the out in front of thousands? attention, as it’s long overREASONS anthemic Falter tested the Dodgy idea, but with such a due. As if the last twenty vocal strength of the crowd faultless show, something years haven't happened, Main Stage the Surrey quintet stood at had to be. YHA reel out song after Friday 27th, 2.35-3.20pm the top of British rock. song of 70s rock inspired Near traditional soundparty anthems. Old school stage problems threatened doesn't quite say enough. to ruin Hundred Reasons MINUS The album was impressive, mid afternoon set. but this was something Following continued negotia- Main Stage else. Do the Yanks do it tions with Sony regarding Sunday 29th, 12.00-12.35pm better than we Brits? On the bands impending depar- Iceland's answer to this evidence, there's no ture from the label the last Metallica, Quench first saw contest. thing they'd have wanted to the Minus boys scaring hear was opener What You small children during their Get sounding like it was filsupport slot with Biffy Clyro FUNERAL FOR tered through the thick at Ifor Bach. The Main A FRIEND Reading mud. Yet it did. Stage, however, proved a As problems persisted, step too far at times with the crowd grew restless, as the band’s bark fading to a rousing anthems If I Could whimper as they struggled Radio One got lost in the increasing with the grand scale of the Stage wind. As an eager crowd Main Stage. Exhibiting Saturday 28th, 10.30-11.30pm sat disappointed, the openmaterial mostly from third A year ago FFAF found ing chords to Silver rang album Halldor Laxness, you themselves opening the out, crystal clear, and sudcouldn't help but feel Minus Concrete Jungle stage with denly the world seemed a were rushed to the slot by just a half hour set. good place again. The disYellowcard's withdrawal. A That day organizers appointment disappointing, yet none-thefound themselves
ASH Main Stage
Friday 27th, 7.00-7.50PM
If ever there were indications of the way music moves full circle Ash personify such arguments perfectly. Hailed as new British heroes in the 90s, then outcast by the new, pop-tinged direction the band took with 2001’s Free All Angels, Ash have returned to reclaim the public’s hearts by going back to the band’s early sound on new album Meltdown. As much as many would hate to admit, it's once more cool to like Ash and the show marked the return of Irish quartet as we knew and loved them. The blend of new and old meant rapturous responses to recent hit Starcrossed, along with classics Girl from Mars and Burn Baby Burn, and on such fine form they deservedly held their own on the Main Stage.
THE OFFSPRING Main Stage
Friday 27th, 8.20-9.30PM
You know how some things are just never destined to be, no matter how hard you've tried, or how deserved it should be? I couldn't help but feel sorry for Orange County punk-rockers The Offspring. With seven albums under their belts, countless high-profile shows, and a legion of fans, they've got to be mighty annoyed at the new kids for stealing in at the last to grab the headline slot in a whirl of silly costumes and moronic songs. And what better way to get your own back than by upstaging them? It’s something The Offspring might not have done, but they gave it a mighty good effort. From the opening whirlwind of All I Want through to the very last note The Offspring worked through material from their roots to this year’s Splinter album. Americana, Gone Away and The Kids Aren't Alright brought standing ovations, while as Why Don't You Get A
Job proved, if you cant beat the silly sing-along songs, join them.
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Live
AVENGED SEVENFOLD Concrete Jungle Stage Saturday 28th, 4.05-4.50PM
Ok, so chances are you may not have heard of Avenged Sevenfold, and if you have it may well have been off the back of a 12-yearold Goth’s hoodie; but listen carefully, and there's more than punchy guitar riffs and growling vocals. What the band may lack in originality they make up for in energy, enthusiasm and intelligence. Unholy Confessions and opener Chapter Four highlight the band’s melodic harmony, neatly hidden behind a veil of teen angst. Surprise package of the day they most certainly were, but going on reviews of debut LP Waking the Fallen, quite why Reading was so dumbfounded is inexplicable.
AUF DER MAUR Radio One Stage
Sunday 29th, 7.55-8.45PM
Famed for her work in Hole and The Smashing Pumpkins, Melissa Auf Der Maur made a return to Reading fronting her own act. "It’s my kind of tenth birthday. I was first here in 1994 as a scared 22 year old bassist and I'd like to thank you for making tonight the most memorable of my life," she confesses.
GREEN DAY Main Stage Sunday 29th, 9.30-11.30PM The main stage timetable
was already in disarray from New Found Glory's unexpected withdrawal, even before the calamity that was the Rasmus and 50 Cent. Step forward the heroes of the day. Organisers were looking red faced as 50 Cent exited the stage at a mere 8.30pm, over an hour before sched-
In the day and age of such pap being spouted by every artist from the other side of the big pond its rare to find someone so sincere sounding as Melissa Auf Der Maur. While she works through the eponymous debut album, it’s her relation to the fans that pays off big time. For such a large venue the set feels intimate to the extreme, a far cry from the Main Stage performances of Hole and The Smashing Pumpkins. "We're all here for the love of music," cries Melissa and, for once, indeed we are. Musically, it's a far cry from the Pumpkins or Hole, but its the music she wants to be playing, and that comes across and puts her in the same league as any act on the bill. uled. Luckily the responsibility of playing an extended set couldn't have fallen into better hands, and Green Day romped through early material on Kerplunk! (2000 Miles Away) through Basket Case, Welcome to Paradise and She through to the band’s newest composition American idiot, a stinging criticism of American media and Government. Not content on being merely performers, Green Day proved to be the true
AMPLIFIER Carling Stage
Sunday 29th, 6.35-7.10PM
What more can be said of a band who've reached acclaim wherever they play? The Amplifier live experience translates the intense power of the band’s self-titled debut into a live event capable of bringing the house down. "Hold you breath and the music will play," sings frontman Sel Balamir during highlight One Great Summer, "And we'll puff and just blow 'em away." One thing is for sure - they did just that. entertainers, proving a much needed refreshing change to many of the lifeless acts witnessed across the weekend. Add to that the bands now trademark 'construction' of a band from audience members and the 60,000 strong crowd were eating from the palm of Billy Joe and company. Covers of Shout and Queen's We Are The Champions followed before the curtain closing Time Of Your Life brought around an emotionally fitting end.
THE BOXER REBELLION
6
Singles
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DIZZEE RASCAL
10
Code Red Poptones
RAZORLIGHT
8
Vice
Spotted by Alan McGee at the New Bands tent, the ginger one snapped them up immediately to his ever expanding Poptones label. Sounding quite similar to The Others this is another in an increasing number of bands who are providing us with epic, life altering tunes. Or maybe not. Gets a six for its funky baseline, otherwise there’s nothing here that hasn’t been done before. Jon Davies
Vertigo After the massive Golden Touch Razorlight return with a new single and the standard still isn’t slipping. Apparently this is the band’s favourite song off the album and its easy to see why. Despite how annoying you may find him you gotta admit the boy Johnny can write a tune. You might even say he’s got a Golden Touch. Oh dear, that’s bad. Johnny Davies
RADIO 4
5.5
Absolute Affirmation City Slang
The lead track is pretty uninspiring guitar-by-the-numbers music that won’t win over any new converts, far less enthral current fans. But, lurking in the dubious area known as B-side remixes, is a little gem in the form of Si Begg’s Instrumental and Fragmented mixes. Andy Llewellyn
ADEM Ringing In My Ear
The Bethesda EP My Kung Fu
The Soft Hearted Scientists are a strange bunch. Creating beautiful fluffy pop songs they make Belle and Sebastian sound like Motorhead. Pop it in your walkman and sit back while your transported to a world of monsters, magic and what-not. If Frodo Baggins and his chums formed a band they would sound like this. If this is the summer of ‘shrooms then this is the perfect soundtrack to a mystical psychadelic experience you won’t forget. Johnny Acid
JOHNNY PANIC 2 Burn Your Youth
8
Domino Beautifully wistful lyrics float across this country tinged tune of spiteful regret. This was recorded on one PC and two microphones late at night by Adem and chums and holds the sort of ambience that only 3am in the city can bring; minus the kebab shop kickouts singing Wonderwall of course Rich Samuels
SOFT HEARTED SCIENTISTS 7
Concept
Stand Up Tall XL
The return of boy genius Dizzee Rascal sees him in newly confident mode; Stand Up Tall fizzes with playfulness, Dizzee reveling in his appropriations of US hip-hop and irrepressible flow. Meanwhile, industrial bleeps and whooshes mutate into a hyperinfectious floor-filling tune. Alex Macpherson
THE HOT PUPPIES
6
Green Eyeliner Purr
Oh my God, I can’t actually believe how bad this is. It’s worth buying so you can piss yourself laughing at the sheer amount of cheese present. It sounds like 80s rock with a bit of Lost Prophets mixed in for the kids. What a load of utter shit.
Hailing from Aberystwyth, the Hot Puppies are far removed from the countless number of lame hardcore bands that seem to be arriving more and more everyday. Led by the inimitable vocals of frontwoman Becky Newman the Hot Puppies sound like the bastard love child of Blondie and Pulp. Didn’t like the B-sides, mind.
Jon I WANNA ROCK Davies
Bill Bones
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Live
CompassPoint 2004
Think Cardiff shuts down for the summer when the students go home? Think again COMPASS POINT FESTIVAL 6th August, Coopers Field, Cardiff
T
he closest thing that Cardiff has to a festival returns for another year. With last yea’rs headliners Funeral For A Friend being catapulted into mega-stardom it’s usually a good chance to see local bands before they become big/sell out. With each year that comes the event starts to look more and more like a proper festival and this year is no exception my favourite addition has to be the mini, UV lit, hippy tent which will probably get used a lot more tomorrow when the festival switches theme from rock to dance. I arrived to catch the end of Dopamine’s set, although I was slightly distracted as I was trying to figure out how to use the camera I’d lent from the GR office (D.I.Y. journalism kids it’s the way forward). Like most bands coming out of the valleys these days they sing songs about rejection and heartbreak, delivered with loud distorted guitars. Great. Next up making a welcome return to Compass Point are Jarcrew, fresh from recording their new album and touring Iceland. They usually seem to inspire two responses either enjoyment or
bewilderment, the latter usually down to lead singer Kelson’s funky dancing. But here with the safety of the home crowd Jarcrew received the reception they deserve although Kelson’s body popping does attract a few raised eyebrows. Next I was confronted with the sight of seven young men in tight pink tshirts named Adequate Seven, not really the sort of thing you expect from your average ska-punk band. To be honest I cant really remember much about their set, I’m not the biggest ska fan, but they seemed to get the crowd moving an a skanking. Mclusky followed with a set that seemed to be overshadowed with their desire to destroy a nearby, Freddy Kruger themed, amusement ride. Choice Quote “You will have your revenge Freddy just not today”. My only gripe with their set was that they didn’t play “Their aint’ know Fool in Ferguson” Somehow I resisted the urge to see Biffy Clyro and wandered towards the other tent to watch My Red Cell and as anyone else who did the same would agree I made the right choice. Seeming relaxed in front of the home crowd they delivered a set which fully justified the hype surrounding them
and in lead singer Russell Toomey they have a front man who’s starting to look more and more like a star every time he picks up his guitar. So after another successful year, what next for Compass Point? Well lets just hope all the money from this year’s tickets wasn’t just spent on hiring “Freddy’s Revenge” and with a bit of luck Compass Point will evolve and return bigger and badder than ever before, like the Raptors in Jurassic Park 2. Jon Davies
Live
MY RED CELL PLAY FOR FREE... AGAIN! Queens Street, Cardiff 9th August 200
A
s well as headlining at Friday’s leg of Compass Point and recently performing a free gig at Barfly, My Red Cell took the next logical step to winning over the general public by performing for free in the city centre. With a stripped down line up of drummer Phil and lead singer/guitarist Russell; armed with only an acoustic guitar and mini drum kit, they performed a set of covers including Bob Dylan’s “Subbteranean Home Sick Blues” and “Wild Thing” (I can never remember who actually fucking wrote it. It was The Troggs - Ed.) they played to bemused passers by and fans looking slighty shocked to see their favourite band busking in town. Being the cynical twat I am I suspected some organisation behind the event but this was far from the case. The real reason behind it was far more simple. As Russell explained “Were skint, our record company wont give us any money till Monday” Rather than being the idea of some marketing svengali the real motivation behind it was money -- or rather, the
31
lack of it. From a music fan’s perspective it’s refreshing to see bands doing spur-ofthe-moment gigs like this and also not being too up their own arses to admit that they’re skint. However, with recent apperances at Reading and Leeds and an ever- growing fan base including Pothead himself Daniel Radcliffe, who mentioned the band in a recent interview, it’s unlikely that My Red Cell are going to be skint for much longer. But for now, if you see a struggling busker on the street, don’t smack them with their guitar and tell them to get a proper job -- just slip them a few quid and feel safe in the knowledge that your supporting your local music scene. On the other hand, if you do have to smack ‘em, just don’t damage their instrument. Jon Davies
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D i g i t a l
grdigital@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01 09 04
This Digital Life Simeon Rosser-Trokas shows you the new way to live It’s the start of a new Academic year and other than “studying” (by which I mean drinking) how will you be spending your time? Whether you’re a Fresher or a veteran lay-about, the answer is digitally. No, this isn’t a geek clique that I’m encouraging you to join; a digital lifestyle is both your indulgence and your necessity. From PC to TV you need electronics to survive university, so Quench proudly presents our survival guide to all things digital.
Worst First Like it or not you’re supposed to be at Uni to study, get a half decent degree, and join the rat-race so being able to complete your work without a PC is frankly impossible. But what about the university network? Well you could use it, but you really don’t want to rely on it for anything other than department specific programs. You’re better off doing your work on your PC at times that suit you. Don’t wait until the 11th hour to
realise that you really have to get an essay in by tomorrow only to find that the library, or department computers are booked solid for the next month with idiots whose top priority is to check hotmail, and deny you even the slimmest hope of doing your work. The bottom line If you hadn’t guessed it - if you haven’t got a PC, get one! It doesn’t have to be expensive, as long as you can use it to send and receive email use the net and Micro$oft Word, that’s it. Job done, sanity saved.
3 is the magic number “What’s you number?” This is the phrase that reflects the total ubiquity that is the mobile phone in modern society. You’ll get asked this question all the time (especially if you’re a Fresher) and when the formality of exchanging numbers is over then it’s time to sit back and watch your bank balance dwindle as the monthly charges or credit vouchers rack up.
You can’t avoid it; you need to contact your mates to arrange nights out, copies of notes etc, you need to ring your parents and grovel for another cash handout. In short you need a mobile phone. However, you can ease the drain on your finances and shop around for a good deal on a new phone, and right now the 3 network is your best bet. Ludicrously low tariffs on monthly contracts compared to the other networks (often at half-price for the first six months or more), as well as 3pay (Pay as you go) phones with long lasting vouchers thanks to flat rates across all call and cheap 5p texts. The bottom line You can’t afford not to reconsider your mobile phone costs now that 3 has dropped a price bombshell on the other networks, they’ll have to start cutting their costs too, so shop around or embrace the 3G goodness on handsets that are no longer the size of breeze-blocks.
Digital
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The i-life
Time to play the game
The brain drain
According to Red Auerbach “Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” And who am I to argue? Music may already be a big part of life, but university only widens your tastes and immerses you more fully into the experiences it has to offer, be they active involvement or passive enjoyment. You’ll want more music more of the time, and that means that your bog-standard hi-fi is being increasingly marginalized. The CD-dominated marketplace of both media and hardware is under massive and increasing pressure from the internet and digital music players. Currently digital music player means only one thing - iPod. The iPod bestrides the portable music player market as a Colossus allowing you to carry thousands of your favourite songs in one small unit, to listen to when and where you like without fumbling through CD cases or carrying a stack of min-discs. Pure musical pleasure.
Don’t take these page’s earlier warnings about work too much too heart, you still have plenty of time to play, and while the delights of pubs and clubs are there to savour, lets not forget one of man’s finest achievements; the computer game. Games have come on incredibly fast and far in their 25 years or so and never has there been a better time to indulge, whether your poison is PC or console based. Hardware prices are rock bottom before the next generation arrives in 2006 and never have there been so many games to lust after. PC - Half Life 2, Xbox - Halo 2, Playstation2 Grand Theft Auto San Andreas, Gamecube - Legend of Zelda, to name but a few. Games for every format, games for every taste and interest (well almost), games to play on your own or with your mates. Digital loves them all and over the year we’ll review them and pass on all the info to you so you can enjoy them too.
Balance in life is the key to happiness so, after a hard hour of filling your head with knowledge in lectures, what better way to avoid overload than to slump in front of the idiot-box that is TV and watch a bit of daytime pap. Well at least that was the way until terrestrial TV became even more homogenized with ultra low quality gardening, DIY, cooking and “chat” shows (shudder) than before; it’s no longer relaxing, it’s infuriating. There is virtually nothing worth watching anymore, your only choice is digital TV. Of course, more channels mean more and more pap, but amongst the rich seams of pap are the occasional nuggets of quality programming: The Simpsons, The Sopranos, Takeshi’s Castle, it’s all out there. You just need to be selective.
The bottom line Yes they are expensive, yes you need a relatively up to date PC (or Mac) to use them effectively but to the audiophile and the geek alike they are increasingly irresistible, especially now that the 4th generation and Mini models have arrived. The competition doesn’t even come close. Beg, steal or borrow - just get one.
The bottom line The games industry is now bigger than movies worldwide and that is a reflection of the both their embracement by the mainstream of culture as well as their increasing power to entertain and challenge you. Games aren’t geeky anymore, so relax and enjoy.
The bottom line Digital or death. If all you have is terrestrial TV, just leave your set alone to gather dust. There is nothing you’ll want to watch, it’s all awful; do something else, anything else. Or get digital TV. Sky, NTL, Freeview it doesn’t matter which, just do it. And that’s an order.
Sponsored by 34
F i l m
grfilms@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01 09 04
Supersize Me: I’m Lovin Shit
COLLATERAL
SUPERSIZE ME
DIr: Michael Mann Cast: Tom Cruise, Jamie Foxx, Mark Ruffulo
Dir: Morgan Spurlock Cast: Morgan Spurlock, McDonalds Staff
M
T
ichael Mann’s latest crafts an engrossing, low-key thriller about a ruthlessly amoral hitman, Cruise’s sleekly outfitted Vincent, who first hires and then commandeers the taxi cab of reserve night shift driver Max Durocher (Jamie Foxx). The high-octane genre concept of Collateral gives Mann the benefit of a tableau that audiences have arguably yet to experience. Where Mann’s previous masterpiece, Heat, brought the fire Collateral brings the ice cool precision. Cruise turns in his best performance since never, flashing his trademark surgically enhanced smile just once behind his raggedy, greying stubble, while Foxx breaks out of the nearly-man mould and matches Cruise stride for stride. There’s plenty of talking in Mann’s movies, plenty of great lines to chew over, but there’s also an exceedingly expert grasp of the primal power and importance of oblique imagery; movies, after all, remain a uniquely visual medium. A sharply drawn dual character study and masterful manipulation of mood, Collateral confirms Mann’s presence as one of the few true adult filmmakers working at the top of their game in cinema today. The only detriment is that it’s a shame that Collateral ultimately reverts to a somewhat staid formula and robs its inventive premise of becoming an established new standard. Craig Driver
Those ego-addled Americans sure know how to punish themselves. First they falsely elect a squinteyed cotton candy monkey for president. They then allow the said primate to speak in public. Now they’re set to deal with Morgan Spurlock’s scathing exposition of McDonalds and Middle America’s preoccupation with all things fatty and edible. Winner of Best Director at Mr. Robert "don’t I look great for my age" Redford’s Sundance Film Festival, Supersize Me is the film the fast food industry has been dreading. The film follows Spurlock as he embarks on a thirty day quest to eat and drink nothing but McDonalds to see the effects upon his young healthy body. The film begins with a deluge of glorious fast food facts: 60% of adult American’s are clinically obese; McDonald’s restaurants feed 43 million people a day; in America there are 10 hospitals that have their very own McDonalds. As gloriously embittered, as such a deluge of facts is, it is the personal deteriation of Spurlock as he consumes Big Mac after Big Mac that is most intriguing. His body weight increases 26 sweaty lbs in 30 days; his cholesterol goes from a healthy 165 to a coffin-twitching 225; his body fat shifts from 11% to a Rik Waller-friendly 18%. His general health becomes a cesspit of gluttonous decay and French-fries fuelled destruction. Or, as his sexually frustrated girl-
friend most astutely puts it: "Saturated fats are impeding the blood-flow to his penis." Spurlock uses the rhythm of a dead-pan comedian and the pop-culture awareness of an MTV editor, mixing continuous documentation of his thrice-daily fast-food anti-diet with poignant animation and insidious interview footage. As a postmodern template for social examination Supersize Me is the flip side to Michael Moore’s spittle plastered rhetoric. Spurlock is genuinely more concerned with Middle America’s everexpanding midriff than the politics of consumerism. It has to be said that attacking McDonalds for being unhealthy is somewhat akin to disliking Hitler for being a wee bit troublesome in Poland but such criticism is quickly rendered circumstantial as Spurlock reveals that one in three American babies born in 2000 will develop diabetes due to obesity. This film is an alarm bell for the sleepy suburbia of Middle America. While the military might of the Bush administration is playing Risk in the Middle East the true weapons of mass destruction are shown. This film’s very existence is testament to the plurality on which freedom is based, and to the health values it claims are under such insidious attack. Most importantly Spurlock’s film has concocted an axis of debate on which the bloated belly of the fast-food industry has finally begun to readjust its food policy. Eat up people; Supersize Me is the sustenance and nourishment we’ve all been craving for oh so long. Craig Driver
Film
CHRONICLES OF RIDDICK Director: David Twohy Cast: Vin Diesel, Colm Feore, Judi Dench
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I
f you are a Vin Diesel fan then this is a "must see" film and even if you’re not, you should probably go anyway. Visually the film is superb; the CGI effects that create Riddick’s universe show great attention to detail and create a breath-taking atmosphere. More importantly they enhance rather than compete with the film’s principle characters. Diesel does what he does best; playing a good bad-guy who only saves the day because it happens to fit with his personal agenda. The plot is as simple and straightforward as the script. Riddick is the last survivor of a warrior race, a race who, according to a prophecy, would alter the fate of the known universe. Unconcerned with his apparent destiny, Diesel’s musclebound character is solely intent on protecting Kera, a young girl he saved in the earlier film Pitch Black. Alexa Davalos (Kera) shows that Diesel is not the only action star of the film and there are strong supporting performances from Colm Feore and an enigmatic Dame Judi Dench. Rumoured to be the first of three, the film is a very satisfying and may be looking to recreate a space opera on the scale of Lynch’s Dune.
A J SIlvers
WICKER PARK Dir: Paul McGuigan Cast: Josh Hartnett, Diane Kruger
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fter half an hour of Wicker Park the audience may start to realize no one is going to die. They should not be disappointed though; the ‘whodunit’ style of the film keeps suspense high without need for corpses or bloodied knives. Josh Hartnett returns to the role of awkward romantic. Thankfully, this role is oceans apart from previous brain sedatives such as Pearl Harbour and 40 Days and Hartnett rises to the challenge. His character Matthew is a dissatisfied young professional engaged to his boss’s sister. A few hours before catching a plane to an important business meeting in China he catches a glimpse of Lisa, the woman who broke his heart years earlier (played by the gorgeous Diane Kruger).
Riddick: Like the Chronicles of Narnia but hardcore He then follows a trail of clues to discover why she disappeared years before. The audience is invited along as McGuigan jumps erratically between past and present, slowing forming characters through a history of their actions. The film gradually descends into more sinister realms than simple romance. Matthew’s pursuit of his lost love often drifting into the distinctly obsessive. Wicker Park could have been in danger of clumsily representing old ideas about appearance and reality. There are references to masks and acting that, in a different film, would appear blunt. McGuigan carries it off, though, through the film’s self-conscious nature. The opening sequence is thirty seconds of one of the slickest cinematic montages in recent cinema. It is also interesting how the film compares the obsessive behaviour of both male and female characters. The plot’s complications becomes a little too much to handle towards the end so this film is probably best avoided after one too many. For the sober, however, this is a stylish, thoughtful and very enjoyable
Wicker Park At Christmas Film Desk will be doing a countdown to the top ten student films, in which you can vote for your favorite. details coming next issue!
36 F i l m
The Editors Grimm A new year and a new team here at Film Desk, which is back Bigger and Better™. So sit back and let Alan Woolley and Craig Driver show you what to watch out for in the year ahead.
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oming early in October is a real treat for you thrash-operaticmetal freaks. Metallica: Some Kind of Monster is a documentary film following the greasy godfathers of rock on their recent world tour. More ramshackle than respect it looks like being this year’s closest contender to Spinal Tap. In the same week there arrives the futuristic 50s feel Sky Captain: World of Tomorrow starring female favourite Jude Law and Film Desk favourite Angelina Jolie. Set in a haphazard world of love, guns, and planes this could be either huge or non-existent at the box office. The following week sees the release of two very different films. In the very same week comes the release of Film Desk idol Bruce Campbell’s (of Evil Dead fame) pet project Bubba-Ho-Tep. On
Ocean’s 12
limited release the film sees Campbell playing Elvis who is alive and well living in an OAP’s home in Vegas. He is called out of retirement to do battle with an undead Mummy with only the aid of his best friend, a 70 year old black man who believes he is JFK. A classic story with a classic cast; don’t miss out. Towards the end of October we should see the release of a whole clutch of promising films. We are swiftly greeted by the highly promising Old Boy from Director Park Chan-wook. The latest Asian gorefest has echoes of David Lynch and is sure to boast more than a few taglines along the lines of "Exhilarating" and "Highly Original". For all those Pixar fiends out there (we of course include ourselves in this category) comes the latest offering from their arch rivals Dreamworks Shark Tale. Apart from the exciting voice talents of Will Smith, Angelina Jolie, Jack Black, and Reese Witherspoon, we at Film are ecstatic about the scenes involving Robert De Niro’s grunt of a shark and Martin Scorcese’s Big Boss fish. Think Goodfellas meets Splash and you’re halfway there. A much more gung-ho and utterly ludicrous, but viscerally exciting, prospect is Alien Vs Predator. They said it couldn’t be made into a film
but it’s done and dusted and ready to rip into your local multiplex with all the intelligence of a nubile gerbil. Hey we can’t be cerebral chatterboxes all the time can we? Talking of pseudo-intelligentsia the Americana King Jim Jarmusch releases his latest offering Coffee and Cigarettes in late October. Doing exactly what it says on the tin and starring, among others, Bill Murray, Tom Waits, Steve Coogan, Cate Blanchett, and Steve Buscemi, Jarmusch’s latest is full to the brim with conversational titbits, film stars a-plenty, and most likely at least fourty minutes of pompous exquisite mumbo jumbo. At the beginning of November we are treated to the long awaited Bad Santa starring redneck nutter supremo Billy-Bob Thornton as a drunk and desolate store Santa. Scripted by the Coen Brothers this is certain to be the perfect antidote to those chirpy Christmas festivities. Later in November comes the sequel Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason. Starring the original cast and again filmed in London we can only hope that it lives up to the superb mix of comedy and pathos seen in the original.
Film
AVP: Even ‘Ahnuld the Governator’ would have trouble killing this lot Also out around this time should be the new Working Title film, Wimbledon, starring Paul Bettany and Kirsten Dunst as tennis players at, yes, you guessed it, Wimbledon. A week later should see the eventual release of the new Pixar animation The Incredibles. The first of the studios films to focus primarily on humans, albeit super-humans, this looks to be the more art-school, progressive, and edgy dimension to Pixar’s already fluffy arsenal of characters. At the end of November comes a Film Desk favourite Harold and Kumar get the Munchies. We’ve seen it and it is awesome. Think American Pie, only funny. Think Animal House without the white middle class fraternity. More specifically think the greatest grossout comedy of the last twenty years but with brass balls and a great big stonking brain and you’re in the presence of the sleeper hit of the year for sure. If you want to be cool this is the film to drop into conversation. For those horror fiends out there November sees the release of Tobe "I love the chainsaw" Hooper’s remake of the 70s video nasty, The Toolbox Murders, about a serial killer with an unhealthy penchant for DIY. If you haven’t had enough of Wesley Snipes’s superhero Blade then there is the third and last installment in the trilogy, in which his day-walking kungfu kickin half-breed joins up with the Nightstalkers to prevent an apocalypse. In late December we should hopefully see the release of the film that will eventually earn Martin Scorcese that fabled first Oscar. The Aviator, starring everyone Marty knows, focuses on the life of 1930’s movie mogul Howard Hughes. Again rumours are that it’s not only classic Marty but also shiny to the point of blinding. Early on next year is the eagerly awaited sequel to Meet the Parents, which unites the original cast with Dustin Hoffman and Barbara Streisand to… Meet the Fockers. Film desk can’t wait. Sure to be a box-
office smash hit is the much hyped Ocean’s Twelve - this time Danny Ocean (Clooney) and his troupe of heisters (Brad Pitt, Matt Damon etc.) travel to Europe to pull off not one but three robberies. Matt Damon will also star in next year’s The Brothers Grimm, directed by Terry "Weird and Wonderful" Gilliam. With the director behind Time Bandits and Brazil in charge of the helm this is sure to be a witty and dark masterpiece. Given Hollywood’s fetish of stealing foreign films and remaking them in a more Americanfriendly manner, it is no surprise to find a few coming out next year. First up is the sequel (yes another one) to The Ring, although it is not clear whether it will be based on the Japenese Ringu 2. Also being remade is the French thriller Taxi “starring” Queen Latifa. Towards the very end of the university year we should see the release of two gargantuan cinematic releases. On a more commercial level, George Lucas releases his final
Bubba Ho-Tep: Return of the King
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Star Wars film: Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith. At last we get to see how Darth Vader turned to the dark side, how Obi-Wan Kenobi became Alec Guinness, and more importantly whether or not Lucas can finally release a film worthy of the classic original trilogy, or whether he will once again sacrifice plot for effects. Either way it’s sure to be a massive cinematic event. Our money for the summer though is on Robert Rodriguez’s gritty film noir adaptation of Frank Miller’s classic comic Sin City. Starring Bruce Willis, Benicio "God" Del Toro, Josh Hartnett, Elijah "I’m a Hobbit" Wood, Clive Owen, Mickey Rourke, Michael Madsen, and Jessica Alba this promises to be the Big Top film of the year. So there is a brief snapshot of things to come. We can but wait precious readers, we can but wait.
Sharks Tale
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B o o k s
grbooks@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01 09 04
Kerry-Lynne Doyle gets to grips with the Rough Guides range THE ROUGH GUIDE TO CULT TV Various authors
Rough Guides Subtitled ‘The good, the bad and the strangely compelling’ this Rough Guide is perfect for anyone wishing to brush up on Cult TV. Whether you want some facts to finally win a pub quiz or want to become something of a television expert this is the book for you. Picking it up I was afraid that it would be written by a snobby Cult TV obsessive but I was wrong. This Guide is funny, vibrant and humourous despite its extensiveness. It covers everything from Eurovision to Footballers’ Wives, The Magic Roundabout to The Office and is jampacked with facts about each show that will make your mates down the pub green with envy. It is bursting with facts such as why Blackadder nearly didn’t make it to a second series and that Fawlty Towers was labelled ‘a very boring situation’ by a BBC executive. Along with alphabetical information
THE ROUGH GUIDE CHRONICLE ENGLAND Robin Eagles
Rough Guides If you want a painstakingly detailed guide to English history then this is the book for you. However, if you want interesting historical accounts then you should probably leave this well alone. The Guide’s coverage is impressive but its language does need some serious spicing up. Even for a history bore like myself there were moments where I thought I was reading paint dry. The introduction explains that England is part of what is ‘Sometimes…called ‘Great Britain, sometimes just ‘Britain’’. Not exactly a page-turner. Yet the Guide’s magnitude is impressive. It covers British history from the Prehistoric Era right up to 2002. With images and quotations from key figures to accompany important events
on shows, the Guide also profiles Cult TV heroes and features genre sections including action heroes and soaps. Filled with hysterical photograph captions, the Guide is also amusing because it includes Pobol Y Cwm; they obviously did their research. The Stuff section is also funny as it tells you where you can
it builds an impressive historical picture. Each period opens with an overview, delving into more specific detail under each year date. Important people, places and social movements are included. There are also extracts from important political poems to create a cultural context. The Guide combines excellent research with material from each period to create an effective insight into historical events. The history it spans is not boring, however. It covers important literary and artistic movements, scientific discoveries and groundbreaking music. It also documents history that you don’t learn in the classroom. One example is the Criminal Law Amendment Act which introduced harsh penalties for homosexuality but not for lesbianism because Queen Victoria refused to acknowledge it. It also outlines scandals that make today’s positively pale in comparison. One is the scandal of Lord Castlereagh’s suicide in 1822 after it was revealed that what he
buy memorabilia including useful website addresses. You can find out where to buy the X-Files Barbie and Ken or for those of you on a budget, where to buy Clangers knitting patterns for £2.20. I’m saving up my pennies as you read. Another great section is the celebrity vox pops. George Clooney confesses that his favourite Cult TV show is The Lone Ranger while Tina Turner reveals that the show that is guaranteed to get her giggling is Fawlty Towers. There are one or two surprises and Shaggy’s reason for loving Sex and the City is startlingly philosophical – ‘I like watching four women talking about men because you know what you’re thinking’. He obviously didn’t watch it for the Manalos. So whether you want to become a buff on Buffy (sorry, had to be done) or want to brush up on your Star Trek knowledge in case you’re ever encounter a Trekkie, this is the book for you. It’s informative without being boring, concise and entertaining. It’s an cool reference point for every couch potato and makes Cult TV enjoyable whether you’re a novice or know-it-all.
thought was a female prostitute had actually been male. Suddenly our politicians look like knights in hining armour. Overall, this Guide is a must if you’re looking for accessible but detailed British history. It’s wonderfully researched and is an excellent reference point for essays. Just don’t expect to read it for fun.
This week Ted Hughes is our Books Legend of the Page documenting his amazing work and his famous relationship with Sylvia Plath.
T
ed Hughes is a British poet as famous for his private life as for his poetry. Born in 1930 and educated in Cambridge University, Hughes had an extremely successful and prolific career as a poet and children’s novelist which included a spell as Poet Laurete. Yet his career is often overshadowed by his relationship with the poet Sylvia Plath. After meeting Plath in Cambridge (she introduced herself by biting his face) they married in 1956. Their tempestuous relationship ended when Hughes had an affair and in February 1963, a month after the publication of Plath’s only novel The Bell Jar, she committed suicide. After her death Plath became a huge feminist icon; she was beautiful, talented and died young. Hughes was often vilified and blamed for her suicide and the intense interest in their relationship has often tainted his reputation. Yet a close look at his work makes his culpability less clear cut.
Although the relationship did influence some of Hughes’ later writings his early work was particularly preoccupied with the cycle of the natural
world and animals. The fishing and shooting trips Hughes had often participated in as a boy influenced this. One of his most famous poems is ‘Wodwo’ where the poem’s speaker is trying to find its place in nature and wonders if it belongs asking ‘Do these weeds know me…have they seen me before, do I fit in their world’? Like much of his work, the poem portrays nature as something wonderful but unsettling - it is something that cannot be predicted or trusted. His verse is powerful, individual and intricate and this is demonstrated perfectly in ‘Wodwo’. Despite being best known for his poetry Hughes also wrote many children’s books. His best known work is probably The Iron Man, a book often taught in primary schools. The Iron Man, as the title indicates, documents the life of an iron man who is lonely and is at odds with nature. It is stark and memorable showing that Hughes’s talents did not lie solely in poetry. However, the interest in Hughes’s relationship with Plath often eclipsed his numerous works in the years after her death. Hughes stayed tightlipped about their relationship despite the barrage of criticism that
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befell him. He won the Whitbread Prize in 1996 for Tales from Ovid, showing that his talents did receive critical acclaim. He eventually wrote a collection of poems about his relationship with Plath, which was published in in 1998. Birthday Letters was the Whitbread Book of the Year, won the T.S.Eliot Prize and the Forward Prize for Poetry. It is truly a stunning poetry collection; Its 88 poems surround their relationship and is a must read for any Plath fans. Birthday Letters strips away the eulogised tragic legend of Plath and depicts her as a mother, a wife and a real person. The poems are heartaching, touching and wonderfully composed; anyone who reads them will come away with a different view on the relationship, whatever their preconceptions. Lines such as ‘Fame cannot be avoided. And when it comes/ You will have paid for it with your happiness/ Your husband and your life’ in ‘Ouiji’ painstakingly remind the reader that whatever Hughes did, he was still a husband that lost a wife. Hughes died in 1998. It is undeniable that Ted Hughes was one if the biggest talents in twentieth century British poetry. His work is unflinching, evocative and influential but will always be intertwined with his relationship with Plath. However, no matter how long the legend of his relationship with Plath lasts, his magnificent work will always be read, appreciated and remembered. Kerry-Lynne Doyle
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A r t s
Natalie Slater gets deep down with the real culture of Oz...
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n making the most of an extensive summer holiday, here are a few tips to fulfil the experience of a trip of a lifetime. Although the venue may be a little further a field than your usual destination for a cultural fix, when taken, a trip down under must not exclude the artistic gems that are held on the southern side of the equator. Australia is a favourite for the British of all age groups and although traipsing around the art galleries and theatres may be associated with the leash of the parents- the arts on offer must not be underestimated. For a backpacker in Oz, a night at the opera house is as obligatory as climbing the harbour bridge. Whatever your budget and whatever your taste, there is something on offer to allow you to bask in the glamour and exuberance that is Sydney. To stand outside the opera house is to appreciate the aesthetic qualities of the city skyline but to step outside after a show is to understand the vibrancy and energy that is the city. A traveller must also delve into the less commonly appraised venues to find true Australian culture. To spend a few hours in one of the many galleries, whether it be the National Gallery or a back street boutique, not
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grarts@cf.ac.uk
only entertains the individual when money prevails, but also occupies the mind if the weather is miserable or the fog rests inside rather than out. Either alone or with company, a variety of styles are on offer from contemporary art to impressionist paintings ranging from the renaissance era to the present day. With Melbourne being the city of culture and Sydney having the iconic status that it does, they are the obvious places to look but there are places all over Australia where an appreciation for the arts can be shared by all characters of individuals. From art to theatre and photography to dance, the essence of Oz from Aboriginal influence and European dominance is a major part of the Australian experience. The arts and culture down under should be explored by everyone to a greater or lesser degree. When the effort has been made to travel to the other side of the world, it is important to experience every aspect of that culture. Whatever your age or interest, Australia has masses to offer, so if you are lucky enough to travel to this magnificent place, don’t forget to explore the real Oz after a night of boozing in an English pub!
What’s on this fortnight
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or most of us, shitty student loans, evil essay questions and 9am lectures from hell create an unescapable obstacle between us and Oz. However, do not despair.... there is plenty going on in Cardiff this fortnight to wet your arty appetites: ‘Printers’ Ink’, St David’s Hall Calling all students from England; missing home? Probably not, but even so, this exhibition at the grand StDavid’s Hall hosts a wide selection of Britain’s brightest contemporary artists. The exhibition is to include the likes of the masterpieces of Tracy Emin and Damien Hirst, who have both won the oh so prestigious Turner Prize. Furthermore, it could be an interesting experience to go along to a presentation of works that are so outrightly controversial that a few months back some not so adoring fans went to the extreme of burning down a warehouse containing some of their major pieces. Oh the scandal! Welsh National Opera, The New Theatre As from the 11 September, the Welsh National Opera crew (aka’Cenedlaethol Cymru’) have been filling up their lungs to bring three weeks of breath-taking opera to the New Theatre. Performances include; ‘Ariadne Auf Naxos’ by R Strauss; Puccini’s ‘Turandot’; and Gluck’s ‘Iphigene en Tauride.’ (Don’t even try and say these titles out loud...just don’t!) Afro-Brazillian Dancing, Chapter Arts Centre Chapter Arts Centre has just recently started an unusual dance workshop. It aims to blend movement from different cultures into harmony through the medium of dance. Although, this is not for the shy; Fernanda Amaral hopes to put on performances in unconventional places, including shopping centres!
Get motivated, get cultured! ART F reshers, you’ve come to the right uni! There’s so much to do and the art scene in this capital bears no exception. We Arts Eds have endeavoured to make a list of arty places in Cardiff so that no one is oblivious to this wonderful fact. This includes non-freshers too. Whilst everyone knows about the New Theatre, (it is next door to Creation after all) not everyone is aware of the smaller places and believe me, there are some gems!
THEATRE Chapter Arts Centre, Cardiff Market Road, Canton Although not within walking distance this is definitely worth the trek. The complex is dedicated to modern art and hosts 3 theatres, 2 cinemas, (though don’t expect to catch American Pie 4 here, this cinema is dedicated to arty farty ‘cultural’ flicks), an art gallery, studios and, not just one, but TWO bars, Wahey! New Theatre, Park Place Here you’ll find the mainstream and classic shows. This semester Chicago is set to hit the city. Not many people are aware of this, but if you turn up at the theatre an hour before an evening performance with your NUS card, they flog any spare seats for a fiver- welcome to the scavy student ways! St Davids Hall, The Hayes (bang in the middle of town, you can’t miss this beast!) Bringing Cardiff over 450 performances a year, St Davids represents a range of arts including dance performances and classical/jazz music, not to mention comedians and rock/pop artists. Sherman Theatre, Senghennydd Road In the centre of Studentland, there is absolutely no valid reason to ignore this gem! It hosts a range of plays from local and travelling arts companies. It is also a second home to the very talented students of the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. Act One Don’t forget to support Cardiff’s own!
Arts
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Albany Gallery, (surprisingly, on Albany Road!) Exhibits change monthly so this gallery is always worth a visit! G/39, 39 Wyndham Arcade In style of mystic meg, I predict that in 2005 large mysterious metal containers will scatter the city…..No, I’m not off my rocker, this is a future g/39 project! Gallery on Broadway, 11 Broadway An excting new gallery opened only in 2001. Martin Tinney Gallery, 18 St Andrews Crescent A small quaint gallery which boasts a range of different painting styles from local artists. All paintings are for sale (the cheapest one I saw costing a mere 250 quid). Whilst us students are never going to make good customers to the place, we can always admire…and dream that we had a spare £250 to throw away (though a painting would probably be the last thing on our minds!)
This classy joint is the New Theatre, hence the big sign. Only a ten minute walk from the union, this place can’t be missed even when you are crawling completely battered out of Creation on a Monday night!
Norwegian Church Arts, Harbour Drive, The Bay This church was closed down in 1974 and now hosts exhibitions, concerts, poetry readings, story-tellers, literary debates, you name it, it’s got it! Take a walk down Bute Street, The Bay There are far too many arty places along Bute Street for me to be arsed to list. If Art is your thing, Bute Street is right up your street, (so to speak!) There you have it, you lucky things, all you will ever need to know about the art scene in Cardiff, in a nutshell. I hope that some of you put my hard work to use and visit some of these fantastic places. After all, it will give you something to report back to Grandma, as she probably won’t want to hear about ‘last Wednesday when you got completely rat-arsed and…..’golly gosh, not her little darling! Debbie Green.
Picturesque, pretty and full of arty goodness, the Norwegian Church Arts Centre is definately worth a visit..
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C u l t C l a s s i c s
grmagazine@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01 09 04
Worried about your CD collection showing you up when you move into halls? Let Catherine Gee guide you through a few essentials for instant street-cred ALBUM
FILMS
BOOKS
LOVE Forever Changes
WITHNAIL AND I Dir: Bruce Robinson (1986)
SLAUGHTERHOUSE FIVE Kurt Vonnegut (1970)
Kill Rock Stars (1993)
Love were an LA folk-rock outfit that were led by the inscrutable eccentric Arthur Lee, one of the few black musicians to grace our planet’s rock scene. Lee has been regularly compared to Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison, both for their electric on stage presence and for their ill-fated careers. Unlike Hendrix and Morrison, however, Arthur Lee is still alive. He was also never one for promotion so it is understandable that the name Love does not exist as recognisably as the Doors, Hendrix or Pink Floyd. Although still going today, at the time of creating the now considered masterpiece that is Forever Changes Lee was convinced he was soon going to die and with that knowledge the album takes on a whole new level. Filled with cryptic messages and hidden meanings that were intended as his final words it creates a feeling of atmosphere and cohesion that many other bands only wish they could achieve. Forever Changes is regularly described as ‘one of rock’s most overlooked masterpieces’ but don’t let such an egoistic or over mighty statement put you off. With its forceful guitars and psychedelic lyrics the album is still fresh and innovative, despite being released 36 years ago. Unfortunately the mighty have fallen and Lee was sent to prison in 1996 for threatening a neighbour with a gun, later to be released in 2001.
Starring: Paul McGann, Richard E Grant
What better way to start the new academic year than with the ultimate student cult film - Withnail and I. Set in the dying months of 1969 two unemployed actors, Withnail (Richard E. Grant) and I (Paul McGann), decide to spend some refreshing time in the countryside - Penrith to be precise - in order to escape their poverty stricken, drugged, boozy existences. However when they arrive at the cottage they discover there is no food, no electricity and, most importantly, no booze. Fortunately Withnail’s Uncle Monty, the cottage owner, turns up with provisions, although unfortunately he happens to be an overweight, randy, ex-public school homosexual who takes a shine to I. Withnail and I was directed by Bruce Robinson based on his own experiences, at the time himself an out of work actor, and he’s never bettered it. This classic has been loved by students for decades, probably for the squalid drunken lifestyle they wish they had but care too much for their own personal hygiene to actually live. It seems appropriate here to mention the drinking game the film has spawned. Dare you attempt to match every drink Withnail consumes on screen? Lighter fluid excepted unless you’re particularly brave/stupid. With such oddball, eccentric characters as a crazed poacher with eels down his trousers, a farmer whose leg is wrapped in polythene and that policeman it’s easy to see why this film has stayed in many hearts and minds and will for years to come.
Vintage
Kurt Vonnegut's absurdist classic Slaughterhouse Five introduces us to Billy Pilgrim, a man who becomes unstuck in time after he is abducted by aliens from the planet Tralfamadore. In a plot-scrambling display of virtuosity, we follow Pilgrim simultaneously through all phases of his life, concentrating on his (and Vonnegut's) shattering experience as an American prisoner of war who witnesses the firebombing of Dresden. This novel is a unique and innovative work written in a most relaxing style that fuses the elements of science fiction with realism. While it can be great satire and quite funny at times what forbids it from being funnier is the fact that the subject matter is indeed very serious and depressing. This is made more so by the knowledge that Kurt Vonnegut was there, he witnessed the bombings and their aftermath from ground-level (and below), and carried the psychological burden of it around with him for years. Vonnegut writes Slaughterhouse so that it is easy to read and the narrative progresses quickly. When he talks about violence or death he points it out so blatantly and casually that it is disguised and swiftly passed over. Though mainly being an anti-war book, it touches on religion, science, free will and destiny also. Throughout the whole book the message of the meaninglessness and atrociousness of war is its primary theme.
grmagazine@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01 09 04
Going out
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F
or all you Freshers here’s a taster of life in and around Cardiff; not that you’d want to stray from the union. As for the rest of you should already know about all this.
LLOYDS Park Place ONE OF those places that you always end up in without ever quite intending to. This has a lot to do with its location, which makes it the obvious stopoff point before you reach St Mary Street. It’s frequented by a mix of townie slappers, students and 30 year-old members of the Ben Sherman brigade. The latter group is drawn here by the former and vice versa. Us in the middle tend to be attracted by the promise of some bottle or other always going cheap, or other offers on vodka-Redbull, spirits and mixers, cocktail pitchers etc. The atmosphere’s fairly relaxed on weeknights but don’t be surprised to find that a couple of the bouncers can be utter wankers. Take ID; even if you’re 35 and have a big grey beard. Music-wise it’s staple chart pop so when you’ve had a few don’t be surprised to find yourself on the little dance-floor; or worse still doing that embarrassing sit-down voguing thing at your table. It’s one of those bars that does exactly what it says on the tin – a more expensive, classy Wetherspoons with music. Well, I say "classy." Last time I was in there I did see Charlotte Church. But then again I also saw her "entourage" brawling in the doorway. Take from that what you will. Despite that Lloyds can be good; just try not to stay there all night. Dave Adams
MOLOKO 7 Mill Lane AT THE OTHER end of the bars spectrum to Lloyds lies Molokos, located on the cosmopolitan Mill Lane. The key word here is trendy: sofas and retro furniture abound, with abstract art on the walls, giving a sort of Eastern-bloc chic to the place.
Sherman Cafe The clientele is a mixture of twentysomething professionals and trendy (that word again) students. You wont find the lager louts of certain venues in here, which helps to generate a vibrant and unthreatening atmosphere. Unfortunately this all makes for slightly pricey drinks, unless you stick to the £1.50 alcopops or bottles of Stella, or can catch the happy hour, where pints are under £2 and cocktails £3. The rest of the time expect to pay £2.70, for example, for a pint of Amstel, or £4.20 for a cocktail. If you see yourself as a bit of a vodka connoisseur, however, this is your heaven. They have a separate vodka menu, with over 60 types to choose from. If all this doesnt tell you what sort of a place this is, the music certainly will. You’d be about as likely to find chart music in here as you would your granny break-dancing in a miniskirt. It’s alternative all the way with DJs six nights a week playing soul, funk, drum n bass, breakbeats, house etc; basically anything but what youd hear in a more mainstream venue. In short then, this is a very cool place to be. Youll feel cool just being seen in here; youll ooze it. And its only your loan youre spending after all, its not like its real money.
nick on the walk home last night (oh to be a "crazy" Fresher again), you’ll be in need of that classic hangover cure - the fry-up. Head down to the Sherman Café on Senghenydd Road (particularly handy if you’re in the Senghenydd or Gordon Road Halls), and the first thing you’ll notice is that it doesn’t look much like you average greasy spoon; largely because it’s actually located in the Sherman Theatre building. Consequently it’s bright and clean, and the sort of place that, when hungover, actually makes you want to stay conscious long enough to finish your breakfast, not just slump onto the an unwashed table and give up hope. They do serve other stuff (baguettes, jacket potatoes, burgers etc), but stick to the tried and tested fry-up (£2.95 regular, £3.95 large) and you won’t go wrong. Because here’s the best thing about it – it’s actually good food. It isn’t swimming in grease. It won’t have been lying on a hot-plate for the last 48 hours. It won’t actually make you feel worse than before. Wash it all down with an orange juice or a cuppa, go home and watch Grandstand in bed – morning-after hangover cures don’t get much better than this.
THE SHERMAN CAFE
Dave Adams
Senghenydd Road ONCE YOU’VE struggled out of bed, and discovered the traffic cone in your kitchen that it seemed so amusing to
Fancy having a crack at this yourself? Then com e along M ondays at 5pm and w e’ll dish you out your mission. Go out. G et pissed. Tell us about it. It’s the way for ward. E mail: grmagazine@cf.ac.uk
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F o o d
grfood@cf.ac.uk
Think as you drink
Quench 01 09 04
Wondering how you’ll be survive seven days of constant drinking in Freshers’ Week? Beth Kenure and Quench Food proudly present The Ultimate Guide to (avoid) Hangovers.
J
ust in case it still hasn’t dawned on you, Freshers’ Week is likely to be the most important event of your first year in university; perhaps even the only thing you will remember at your graduation, if only for that more or less constant taste and smell of vomit. Traditionally the morning after is spent feeling the thumping of a thousand tiny hands in the head. The hungover try very hard not to move much in order to avoid seeing
the consumed drinks and kebabs again. The Ultimate Guide to Hangovers seeks to eliminate these characteristics of the day after by suggesting a number of ways you can reduce or cure the devilish stuff that makes you feel like an overripe fruit. Drinking is one of the most popular pastimes for students so this guide is an essential item to pin on your notice board, even if you find yourself entering your third year of mayhem…sorry, university.
Choosing your poison It is possible to decrease the hangover pain considerably by choosing your poison wisely. There is a big difference between “ralphing your guts up” to being a “pizza away from perfect”, as the
kind souls at www.hungover.net have so eloquently pointed out. The closer
THE HANGOVER RANKING 1. PORT. If Port had only been an ordinary red wine you might have had a chance. Instead it is fortified red wine which means it contains liqueurs and other anonymous spirits, all guaranteed to lay waste to any chance you had of feeling good the next day. 2. RED WINE. Not much better than Port after all then. 3. BOURBON, rum, brandy and scotch, in that order. But then, who in their right mind would drink any of it? 4. CIDER. The queen on the soft drink arena and especially lethal in a snakebite. Closely followed by Guinness and beer. 5. CHAMPAGNE AND COCKTAILS. These will find you 7 o’clock fresh the next day, although be careful with bubbly as carbonation makes your body absorb alcohol
to the top of the list the more likely the drink is to induce a coma. Most importantly though, do not mix your drinks, do not mix your drinks and do NOT mix your drinks.
faster. For maximum effect choose cocktails with bananas or tomato juice. This option may find many of you thinking of how you can possible afford next month’s rent. The alternative method is lining your stomach with a good meal and a glass of milk and hope for the best.
The morning after - how to Food beat those hangover blues
O
h dear, stupid enough or too skint to follow our carefully prepared advice on how to choose your poison? Fear not, Quench has plenty of quirky, classic and healthy hangover cures to keep you occupied. Give all of them a try and we guarantee that your head will be out of the toilet by late afternoon. We all have our favourite remedy to cure the severe hangover pain. A bacon and cheese sandwich can make you feel better as bread will soak up the excess liquor flowing around your system. The heavy drinkers we are acquainted with also swear to steak bakes from a wellknown bakery and cooked breakfasts from Café Calcio. We also crave sugary drinks when we’re hung over to raise our blood sugar levels. Your body needs sugar to break down alcohol and right now it
hasn’t got any, which leaves you feeling weak and light-headed. Mars bars are good - they only take 15 minutes to start giving you a sugar hit. Wash it down with your favourite soft drink or better still, Lucozade, Gatorade or any other form of sports drink. These types of drinks restore the body salts and minerals you’ve lost. Jellybeans will have you bouncing too, especially the glucose ones you can get from the chemist. And they won’t make you as fat. The most vital thing to consume after a night on the razz is water. Dehydration is a common problem among students and water is the most obvious choice to counter it. Drink as much water as you can stand before you go out and remember to put a glass of water next to your bed for when you come back (works best if you know where you will be sleeping that night).
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The morning after it will be time to get your head under the tap and drink until your stomach is so full it hurts. Then wait. Five minutes later your body will feel like a prune again and you are ready for more (two minutes if you smoked). Alcohol also depletes your body of essential vitamins which can easily be restored by fruit and vegetables. Once you have carefully put your body on the way to recovery it’s time to go back to bed. Sleeping is a great way of ignoring the pain; however actually getting to sleep can sometimes be an immense task. Some rely on extra strength pain killers, yet others prefer a little play in the hay. The exercise pumps your blood, the rest, well, you know what that does. At the end you can have a big drink of water and slip into a peaceful slumber. If, for some reason, sex is out of the question, a trip to the gym or a walk will also make you sweat out all that nasty poison. Besides, fit people metabolise alcohol faster and enjoy a smoother flow of oxygen to the brain. They will still get hangovers, but not as bad as us mere mortals. Next time, make them drink extra. The sad truth of the matter is that however much water you drink and however much your exercise there is no alcohol in the world that will not give you a hangover. Sadly, the Ultimate Hangover Cure is not to drink at all which should get you into your lectures bright and breezy at 9 o’clock on Thursday mornings for the rest of the year. Let’s drink to moderation!
One dried eel kebab, hold the mayo Chemist run out of alka-setzer? Stomach not up to a greasy fry-up? Try these alternative hangover cures 1. BREAST MILK. Get stuck into pulling those lactating women. 2. EEL. According to www.hungover.net, soakers in the middle ages would down a plate of bitter almonds and dried eel. 3. VOODOO. Haitians suggest sticking thirteen black pins in the cork of the offending bottle. Harder with twist tops.
4. SOOT. In 19th Century England, chimneysweeps swore by the healing powers of a long and warm soot milkshake. Not to be confused with strong black coffee. 5. SHEEP’S EYE. In Outer Mongolia, drunks are said to slurp down a pickled sheep’s eye in tomato juice. Let’s face it, you probably drank something worse last night anyway.
Alfred didn’t suffer from hangovers
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Blind date
grblinddate@cf.ac.uk
Quench 01 09 04
Would like to meet S o the day has come. You’ve arrived at uni and with Freshers’ Fortnight on the horizon this is the perfect time to strut your stuff and impress the lads/ladies in the Students’ Union; a veritable melting pot of raging hormones, one too many Bacardi Breezers and a lot of top totty. Surely the perfect recipe for love? No? Well fear not, all is not lost. If you’ve arrived in halls to find yourself living with more of a Freddie Kruger than a Girl Friday seeks man of her dreams. Well spoken, educated, auburn bombshell WLTM Arnie look-alike for friendship, fun times and maybe more…
gair CARDIFF’S STUDENT WEEKLY
gair rhydd and Quench magazine will now be distributed each Saturday, with the next issue due on September 27. We have increased the number of pick up points to allow you to collect our publication more easily: Aberconway Refectory Atlantic Coffee (Albany Road) Atlantic Coffee (City Centre) Barfly Barker Business School Bute Café Europa Cartwright Court Chapter Arts Centre Column Road 130
Freddie Ljungberg or, having reached enrolment you find the most attractive person in the library is Anne Widdecombe’s stunt double, then look no further. We here at Blind Date are on a mission to set up the sad and the lonely and inject a bit of passion into this dreary October. You will get the chance to snuggle up in the funky setting of A Shot In The Dark, our fantastic sponsors for the second year running, where you can enjoy some fantastic food and company (we can but hope). So if you do find yourself looking for love or just some one to share a coffee with just get in touch. Tell us your name, age and sexual preference and we’ll do the rest. And finally a word of warning for you lucky ones out there - If you smoke after sex, you’re doing it too fast! Please contact at GRBlinddate@cf.ac.uk or on 07746503742
The Gentleman Caller. A sensitive, fun-loving sports jock who is also a dedicated follower of fashion seeks a lady love for good times and great times…
rhydd EST. 1972
Gordon Road Humanities Library Humanities Refectory Kappuchinos Law Main Building Maths Building Med Club Music Physiology Refectory Psychology Refectory Redwood Royal School of Music Secretariat Senghenydd Court Sherman Theatre Shot in the Dark café Spillers Students Union Talybont North Laundry
GAIRRHYDD.CO.UK
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MAGAZINE
Talybont Social Talybont South Laundry Trevithick foyer UGC Cinema University Hall foyer WRC Welsh Club Dominos, Crwys Road Pizza Hut, Crwys Road Co-op Crwys Road Subway Crwys Road Tesco Extra Tesco Metro, Albany Road Sainsbury’s Central Virgin, City Centre SPAR, Woodville Road SPAR, City Road T&A stores
g o o d b y e , c r u e l w o r l d
W
hen all things are considered, it’s a sad reflection. Not humanity – we all know that’s fucked beyond all recognition – nor the fact that the Conservative party are still in existence, despite the best efforts of successive leaders to kill it off. No, the sad reflection is the inability of the gair rhydd editor to keep his phone charged and thus take down contact details for DC Gates on the back of an envelope when the two meet in the street. It’s also a sad reflection that said editor then hands envelope over to security to get himself a pseudo-NUS card that enables him to use the gym. The concluding part to the trilogy of sad reflections concerns the editor’s inability to have any other means of contacting Mr. Gates. Notwithstanding there was another missed opportunity when editor and Gates happened upon each other in Clwb last Wednesday. Not that I’m bitter due to one man’s inability to keep track of envelopes. Nor am I bitter about having to write this column at a ridiculous hour of the night as nobody knows where Gates can be found, far less if he’s alive. Sarcastic, moi? As you may have guessed, I am
Quench 01 09 04 not DC Gates. Quite frankly I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing, other than this column, which is nothing more than a poor imitation of the usual ramblings, only less intelligent. So, there will be no references to Tolstoy or even Nick Hornby, because I’ve really not had time to read anything remotely intelligent. Actually, that’s a lie. I read the Independent’s summer food supplement the other day and was tempted by a recipe for double cream and chive soup to the point that I actually purchased said chives from Tescos. Sadly, with no cream, the chives have gone the way of most other things in my fridge. It’s somewhat ironic that, given Quench is a lifestyle magazine, writing about rotting vegetables is about the closest this column has ever come to even remotely mentioning lifestyle in the year and a bit it’s been going. What place there is for a bitter hack in this society, or even this publication, beyond propping up the bar, is beyond me. Despite all this the powers that be still seem fit to let me draw a wage and drink myself into oblivion through a combination of Timothy Taylor Landlord, household bleach and White Russians. At this
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stage I better issue a non-customary warning that consumption of fluids of any sort are bad for you in one way or another. For that matter, so is the consumption of food. Let’s face it, with the amount of horse shit they inject into dead chickens, the insistence of successive governments across the continent to fuck around with what was a perfectly good bit of maize, and the idiocy of people who buy salads from a fast food restaurant it’s a wonder we’re not suffering from some particularly virulent form of cancer which, frankly, would be no less than we all deserve. Ooh, get me. I’ve gone back to almost writing about lifestyle. Did you see what I did there? Did you? Did you? Ah, forget it. The point of lifestyle is that we’re all free to choose a way of life to suit ourselves; we’re all individuals. Yet the majority of this world thinks that lifestyle is dressing up in baggy sports wear, swearing a lot and pestering old ladies for crack outside Spar at four in the morning. It’s not big and it’s not clever. I too can dress like a cunt, as well as beating ninety-year olds over the head with a piece of lead piping. I just choose not to.
Your Horoscopes with Madame Cynthia
S C
agittarius (Nov 23 - Dec 21) Things take a turn for the worse on Thursday when you discover you’re actually the bastard love-child of Boris Johnson and Lowri Turner. apricorn (Dec 22 - Jan 20) If I were to say you were the most boring fucker I’ve ever met I’d be being generous. However, Lady Luck transforms you into a witty intellectual on Friday. You’ll still fail to pull though. quarius (Jan 21 - Feb 18) It’s always a tough choice between the Norwegian Jarlsberg and the Swiss Emmental. Why don’t you be more adventurous and go for a soft cheese for once? isces (Feb 19 - Mar 20) You’re a complete and utter cunt. I’ve tried to be nice, but my mother told me never to tell lies. Cunt. ries (Mar 21 - Apr 20) On Monday you’ll discover that the world does actually revolve around you. Unfortunately this results in a displacement in the gravitational pull and causes the end of humanity. aurus (Apr 21 - May 21) Don’t you just hate them vermin? I went out to them field with me shotgun and
A P A T
bagged at least ten. Skinned their tails and boiled them alive, I did. Best meal me and mother had in ages. emini (May 22 - June 22) It’s always embarrassing when it’s discovered your “tea breaks” are an excuse to visit Mrs. Palm and her five daughters. It’s even more embarrassing when it’s discovered you actually schedule bishop-bashing appointments into your diary. Why don’t you try something more constructive. Like origami. ancer (June 22 - July 22) Dogging loses its attraction for you after you discover something more thrilling - bonsai cultivating. eo (July 23 - Aug 23) Sunshine through my window is all very well, but for vampires amongst you this may prove more problematic. irgo (Aug 24 - Sep 22) Things were better when you were a lad, you miserable bugger. ibra (Sep 23 - Oct 22) Tuesday sees a change in career for you jail bird. Stealing Charlotte Church’s underwear on a regular basis was bound to end in tears eventually, admit it.
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corpio (Oct 23 - Nov 22) Sunday causes a scare when you’re briefly possessed with the spirit of Nigel Kennedy. This is even more impressive, given that he’s still alive. Still, at least Auntie Janice appreciated the violin solo. Madame Cynthia really didn’t enjoy her summer break before you ask. And she’s even less impressed to be forced to carry on writing for the unappreciative cunts who read this bollocks, much less so those that don’t. Especially now that the multiple-personality disorder has returned.