

SPECIAL: SPECIAL:
Gender Gap Democrats’ Lacklustre Strategy
US-China Relations
Trump’s Re-election, 1968, and Bruce Springsteen
LSE’s President and ViceChancellor Salary and Expenditure Revealed
e Corporatisation of Creativity: How Accessible is Musical Expression at LSE?
Married at First Sight: Do Men Only Value Women ey Find Attractive?
Executive Editor
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Multimedia Editor
Sylvain Chan multimedia.beaver@lsesu.org
News Editors
Melissa Limani
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Opinion Editors
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Aaina Saini
Part B Editors
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Jessica-May Cox
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William Goltz
Sport Editors
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Social Editors
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Emma Do Flipside Editor
As the days get colder and shorter, they start to blend, slipping by in a quiet blur. Dates seem to matter less, and all you look forward to is going home for winter break. University becomes a bit overwhelming, memories start to take up more space in the room, and emotions swell up in your heavy heart as the festive season arrives in full glam.
I think November is seriously underrated.
And I’m not saying this because it’s my birthday month (the birthday blues
Social Media Editors
Krishav Arora
Su a Jafri
Social Secretary
Sahana Rudra
are real!), but because it’s stuck between Halloween and Christmas, so time seems to stretch on forever.
Yet, there’s so much beauty le to see in November.
It’s when London starts to smell of caramelised almonds and roasted peanuts. e air is crisp and gentle. You bring out your trench coat and wool scarf. e streets are lit up with Christmas lights as you make your way through the crowds, gently snuggling into your collar, and feeling the chill bring a pink shade to your cheeks. e sun starts to disappear
more o en, but the open sky with no trace of clouds feels liberating somehow. It’s normal to get emotional because you’re not where you were ten months ago anymore. Some things die within you, while others have grown. Your love reaches out like branches, intertwining to hold onto the small, precious moments.
As I tend to re ect upon myself in the winter months, I struggle with the idea of love and giving out the right love. Every time I thought I’d been able to put this worry to sleep, I read a book and felt like I knew
nothing about love, again. But I’ve come to realise that I’m allowed to make space for new people, and so are you. Opening up is the rst step to letting more love and light in because this is never the end of what love can be. I hope you nd friends who show you how love can feel easy, the kind of love that doesn’t leave you longing, even when they’re right beside you. e kind of love that makes people miss you when you’re not around.
Here’s to the rest of November and the start of December—I hope the season is as good to you as it has been to me.
LSE has released a statement in response to the article from our second issue titled “ e ‘LSE 7’ Suspensions: Is Campus ‘Free Speech’ Sacred or Illusory?” is response can be found on our website.
Any opinions expressed herein are those of their respective authors and not necessarily those of the LSE Students’ Union or Beaver Editorial Sta
e Beaver is issued under a Creative Commons license. Attribution necessary. Printed at Ili e Print, Cambridge
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Amy O’Donoghue Contributing Writer
On 23 October, LSE students joined young people from across the UK to lobby against guarantor requirements for student renters. Members of the NUS travelled to Westminster to ask their MPs to support an amendment to the Renters’ Rights Bill, submitted by Alex Sobel MP, which would legislate against these requirements. e day saw participants of more than 50 student unions reach out to their MPs, with representatives from numerous regions of the UK coming out to discuss the issue.
NUS research shows that 1 in 4 students have “reported di culty” acquiring housing due to guarantors. Many landlords require an individual to be UK-based and make above a certain level of income to be a viable guarantor, which the NUS describes as “a huge barrier for international, working class and estranged students.” NUS data indicates that 13% of students have experienced homelessness. For international students, this gure rises to 29%. In their view, the aboli-
tion of guarantors for students could help to decrease these gures.
LSE runs a scheme in which the university can act as a guarantor for students unable to nd their own. However, landlords are not obligated to accept this option, and some prefer private guarantors. Moreover, LSE only acts as a guarantor for students who are non-UK residents, meaning this scheme does not aid home students who may face similar di culties.
International students may still encounter challenges. One student described the “di cult situation” she found herself in when searching for housing in London. She spoke of having “no idea” that LSE could have acted as her guarantor and consequently ended up paying a full year of rent upfront.
According to her account, many international students aren’t made aware of the fact that it’s not normal to pay up to a year’s rent to acquire housing, or that LSE could help them. She called for “a comprehensive framework” and more support for international students who may be as unaware as she was, pointing
out that LSE has a high proportion of international students who need their safety to be ensured as they navigate the housing market.
e Renters’ Rights Bill is currently being scrutinised and is expected to return to the House by 28th November, when MPs can vote on the amendment put forward by Sobel. is will determine whether protections for students against guarantors will be enacted, or whether this issue will continue to prevail within the housing market and university communities.
An LSE spokesperson commented: “ e Rent Guarantor Scheme, run by LSE’s Residential Services O ce (RSO), is primarily targeted at international students as they tend to struggle most to provide a UK-based guarantor. It is also open to care-experienced students with ‘home’ status.”
“ e scheme was expanded in December 2023, increasing the guarantee to cover rents of up to £250 per week/£1000 per month. It was also expanded to include PhD students, and the terms of the scheme were relaxed so that students no longer need to have lived in
an LSE/University of London Hall of residence previously to be eligible- they just need to provide a letter of reference from a previous landlord. e scheme is promoted on our website, at Open Days, and in housing talks provided in the Winter Term each year.”
e spokesperson said the Residential Services team is happy to work with LSESU and listen to suggestions.
LSESU’s General Secretary said: “In partnership with SUs across the UK we are calling for the removal of rent guarantors due to the nancial and social challenges that guarantor requirements create
for many students, especially those from low-income backgrounds whose parents do not have a high enough salary or own property in the UK and thus cannot be a guarantor or international students and estranged students who are also unable to have their parents be their guarantors.”
“During the day we gathered with di erent SUs to meet with the MPs of di erent Universities in the UK. We all green carded MPs who could not meet with us due to busy schedules. e day was successful and a fantastic chance for SUs across the UK to come together to lobby for student issues.”
Anhelina Shamlii
Contributing Writer
On 25 October, the LSE Students’ Union (LSESU) hosted its annual Black History Month formal at the Sta Common Room in the Old Building. e black-tie event welcomed dozens of guests and featured poetry, live music, archival displays, and a special appearance by BBC Radio 1Xtra presenter Richie Brave.
is year’s theme, ‘Reclaiming Narratives’, was chosen to emphasise the importance
of revisiting and re-evaluating the contributions of Black leaders, from historical gures to contemporary entrepreneurs. rough live music, soul-touching poetry, and visual storytelling in the form of archives presented by the LSE Library, the evening aimed to highlight diverse perspectives and celebrate the legacy of Black people.
A key moment of the evening was a thought-provoking interview segment with Richie Brave, led by LSESU’s General Secretary, Tito Molokwu. Brave de-
livered an inspiring message, emphasising the importance of valuing Black leaders not just during Black History Month, but throughout the entire year.
is year’s celebration is a part of LSE’s annual Black History Month celebration. Last year’s theme, ‘Celebrating Our Sisters and Honouring the Matriarchs of Movements’, focused on the crucial role of women in shaping society. Building on that foundation, this year’s theme broadens the scope, paying tribute to a wider range of Black leaders,
both historical and modern.
is year, the LSE community organised over 13 public events throughout October aimed at celebrating and acknowledging the signi cance of Black History Month. Other events included networking and archive discovery sessions.
Black History Month is an annual observance that originated in the United States in the 1920s and was adopted by the UK in 1987.
e UK celebration was initiated by Akyaaba Addai-Sebo, a Ghanaian refugee
who arrived in the UK in 1984. He aimed to challenge racism, honour the history and achievements of Black people, and create greater awareness of their cultural heritage, following the 150th anniversary of the abolition of slavery in the Caribbean.
Today, Black History Month acts as a reminder of the necessity of recognising and learning as much as possible on the historical and contemporary achievements of Black Leaders all around the world.
Ann Vu
Contributing Writer
Photographed by
Ryan Lee
Arecent investigation by i News in October 2024 saw the President and Vice-Chancellor of LSE claiming the highest spending of roughly £83,000, and the second-highest salary of £533,000, among leaders from top universities in the UK.
Of the £83,000 spent primarily by LSE’s previous President and Vice-Chancellor Baroness Minouche Sha k rather than Professor Larry Kramer,
£10,600 was claimed on hotels, while international ight expenditure accounted for over £50,000.
An LSE spokesperson told i News, “ e university is one of the most international universities in the world”, and “maintaining this array of international relationships and establishing new links with universities, businesses and nongovernmental organisations involves a signi cant amount of international travel.”
In response to the expenses claimed by their President and
Vice-Chancellor, an LSE student reported feeling “ripped o ” over the “extravagant” expenditure and earnings.
Another student shared that although these expenses amounted to “a lot”, they “make sense” given LSE’s status as a leading higher education institution.
e investigation comes amid growing concerns over anancial crisis in the higher education sector, prompting a rise in domestic tuition fees for the rst time since 2017 from £9,250 to £9,535 for the commencing 2025/26 academic year. International students are also expected to experience an ever-increasing rise in tuition fees, having not been subjected to the same fee cap.
Despite these concerns, the salaries of vice-chancellors remain high. A member of the LSE University and College Union has also put into question this large pay gap between LSE leaders and sta members:
“I think there is quite a big [pay] gap between profession-
al service sta and academic sta , as well as academic sta and management. is is present across all UK universities.”
“When you have these very big gaps, it can create tension and devalue other people’s labours. A lot of the union politics has been about bringing di erent pay grades more in alignment with each other.”
An LSE spokesperson said: “LSE is committed to developing and supporting our exceptional academic and professional services sta . In recognition of this, the School recently invested in pay increases and a nancial reward package for all sta representing £100m over seven years.”
“LSE is one of the most international universities in the world. Around two-thirds of our students are from overseas, coming from over 145 countries worldwide, and we have a network of over 190,000 graduates in more than 180 countries. LSE also has formal academic partnerships with universities in New York, California, Milan, Paris, Singa-
The LSESU’s Islamic Society (ISoc) recently hosted its annual Charity Week, an event that unites students in a mission to support vulnerable communities worldwide. is year, ISoc partnered with Mercy Relief, directing its e orts towards emergency aid for Palestine, Yemen, and Lebanon.
‘With events designed to both engage the student body and raise crucial funds, ISoc’s e orts have made a signi cant impact, raising over £40,000 so far.’
Charity Week, a global initiative active across universities in the UK and internationally, re ects Islamic values of compassion and community. e campaign is rooted in the Islamic principle of sadaqah, or charitable giving, seen as a means to purify wealth, foster empathy, and encourage social responsibility. is principle has inspired students at LSE to contribute their time, resources, and energy to aid those in need.
is year featured a series of engaging events, ranging from a Halal World Food Festival to a Sisters’ Charity Game Night and a Brothers’ Football Tournament. Each event o ered students a fun and meaningful way to participate in the cause.
e week concluded with the Charity Week Auction Din-
ner on Saturday, October 26th, where various unique items, such as a Ronaldo shirt that raised £3,900 and a Marriage Hamper that reached £2,400, were auctioned to boost the fundraising total.
is event exempli ed the generosity and unity of the LSE community, pushing the fundraising e orts to new heights.
e funds raised during Charity Week will directly support Mercy Relief’s Winter Emergency Appeal, aimed at providing essential winter relief to families facing extreme conditions in Gaza, Yemen, and Lebanon.
e dire situation in these regions, particularly in Gaza where con ict has devastated communities, has le many without basic necessities. Mer-
pore, Cape Town, Beijing and Shanghai.”
“Maintaining this array of international relationships and establishing new links with universities, businesses and non-governmental organisations involves a signi cant amount of international travel. All ights booked through LSE include high-quality carbon o sets, which are re ected in the overall cost.”
In addition, an LSE spokesperson clari ed the following on remuneration:
“ e former President and Vice Chancellor (Minouche Sha k) didn’t receive £533,000 in payments. A signi cant part of the reported remuneration gure relates to a central London accommodation already owned by the School.”
“Accommodation is provided to every LSE Vice Chancellor with the condition that it is a venue for events, fundraising, and meetings for the wider School community. e property is funded from a historic legacy.”
cy Relief’s e orts focus on supporting families by providing food packs, emergency medical aid, and winter essentials.
In Yemen, the organisation also supports local bakeries, ensuring that thousands have access to bread during the harsh winter months.
ISoc remains hopeful that these contributions will bring much-needed relief and support to families enduring unimaginable hardship. For those interested in further supporting these e orts, donations remain open, and volunteering opportunities continue to be available.
Find their Instagram at: @lsesuisoc
Melissa and Saira’s top picks:
• Albanian Society inter-uni Football Tournament, 22 November, Powerleague Shoreditch, 8pm start.
• Drama Society’s Romeo and Juliet, 21 and 22 November.
• Movember Panel, 26 November, 6-8pm.
Oona de Carvalho Managing Editor Illustrated by Mithalina Taib
On 31 October, the Grantham Research Institute and LSE Cities hosted an on-campus public event on how to create ‘A safe future for cycling in London’. is event featured four experts from academia, policy-making, and urban-planning.
is past year, LSE has lost three members of its commu nity in cycling accidents. three individuals are part of the eight cyclists killed annual ly in London.
In response to these tragedies, over 700 sta and students from 37 London academic in stitutions signed an open let ter in March urging London’s Mayoral candidates to address road safety. e letter called for the eradication of cyclist and pedestrian deaths caused by motor vehicles by 2028.
‘A safe future for cycling in London’ addressed how to achieve the goals outlined in
the open letter and paid tribute to those who had lost their lives.
Reframing how we think about road safety is a crucial starting point, the speakers emphasised. As explained by Marco te Brömmelstroet, Professor of Urban Mobilities at the University of Amsterdam, public discourse tends to focus on steps cyclists can take to increase their safety such as wearing a helmet or ensuring visibility. Instead, greater attention should be given to the system
“For a solution, we have to shi our focus on taking away the danger instead of weaponising the victims,” te Brömmelstroet suggested.
Rachel Aldred, Professor in Transport at the University of Westminster, added that near missed-collisions should also be considered in policy-making. “ e rate at which people experience near misses cycling in this country is unacceptably high. On a weekly basis people are experiencing fear,” she explained.
speeds and volumes, as well as improving cycling infrastructure, are key to improving road safety. It would make cycling more inclusive and reduce safety risks for more vulnerable individuals, stated Julie Plichon, Head of Design and Engineering at Sustrans London.
e City of London has made progress on these fronts. As London’s rst Walking and Cycling Commissioner Will Norman elaborated, 52% of London roads have a speed limit of 20mph, and the city’s cycle
ough, as he pointed out, this progress is not evenly spread across London. London’s mayor Sadiq Khan only has jurisdiction over 5% of the city’s roads, and boroughs have improved road safety at di erent rates.
Limited funding and decades of urban planning centred around motor vehicles present further obstacles. “We have an awful long way to go… ere is a cultural change that needs to happen in London and that needs leadership at all levels.”
Norman concluded that universities play a vital role in instigating change. “Where universities have spoken up and have invested in this you see changes…Please talk to your leadership.”
London’s rst cross-university cycling network is in the process of being established. is network aims to raise awareness of cycling safety, advocate for change, and create a forum for experience-sharing. If you are interested in getting involved, please contact gri.cycling@lse.ac.uk for further information.
On 14 October, LSE’s President and Vice-Chancellor Larry Kramer delivered his inaugural lecture, addressing students, sta , and the public in the Sheikh Zayed eatre. e event was chaired by Professor Conor Gearty of LSE Law School. During the lecture, Professor Kramer outlined ve challenges that the social sciences face in today’s world, and proposed ways to address them.
e ve challenges Professor Kramer highlighted were “the challenges of popular government, of political economy, of sustainability, of inequality, and of new technologies”. Professor Kramer emphasised that his goal was to lay out his un-
derstanding of the challenges academic institutions ought to tackle in the 21st century.
Regarding popular government, Professor Kramer explained that democracy’s main challenge lies in the loss of popular government, one which is governed by the will of the people. He argued that declining faith in democracy is the result of a collapse of shared political identity; ideological polarisation, inequality, lack of education, and disenfranchisement are but a few of the causes for declining trust in governments.
On inequality, Professor Kramer likened the problem to cancer, in that it consists of many di erent problems that all require separate solutions. He suggested reframing ine-
quality as “an essential aspect of other problems”, emphasising the need to address it within the context of broader issues we attempt to solve.
Professor Kramer’s suggestion to reframe inequality as divisible problems was the overarching theme throughout his inaugural lecture.
On the topic of AI, Professor Kramer argued AI will be a foundational skill for students and sta alike, urging faculty to guide its appropriate use in the classroom. Addressing teaching sta in the room, Professor Kramer said “we should a rmatively want students to use AI”, and gure out “how our classes will look and change” using new technologies.
A er his speech, Professor
Kramer took questions from the audience. e chair, Professor Conor Gearty, asked a question about the handling of the LSE encampment in May 2024, and the encampment’s calls for divestment from arms manufacturing and fossil fuel investments.
Professor Kramer stated that the encampment raised an important question about the “kinds of protests that are okay”, claiming the encampment itself was not an issue until it required the Marshall Building to be shut down.
Regarding LSE’s investments, Professor Kramer clari ed that investments are LSE Council decisions, which doesn’t make investment decisions if the “primary purpose [of divestment] is to make a
political statement”.
He highlighted the formation of an ESG Policy Group and Consultative Group, but also the Council’s duciary duties.
‘Professor Kramer concluded his speech by praising LSE’s “intellectual decentralisation”, and its strength as a university inviting “different disciplines, asking di erent questions, using di erent methodologies, reaching di erent conclusions.”’
Angelika Santanielo Staff Writer
Photographed by Céline Estèbe
At a time when information is readily available, how can a person be sure they understand the dimensions of global crises?
Many people simply read the news pockets of information o en tainted with biases and descriptive overtones. However, this approach risks missing the mark. For those aiming to avoid ‘tunnel vision’, a textured understanding is needed. Call it a multifaceted approach: an accessible, nuanced way of understanding international crises. But how can this be done?
Panels and public events are one such means. ‘International Organisations in Crisis: Palestine, Paralysis, and Progress’, hosted by the new LSESU War Studies Society in October exempli ed the value of adopting a multi-dimensional approach to understanding the reality of crises. Being the rst public event organised by the society, this panel concerned the role of international organisations in responding to the war in the Middle East.
Yet, it was more than just a vessel promoting the War Studies Society. Take the horseshoe seating arrangement of the room in Marshall Building, lled with around 100 LSE students and external guests: everyone faced each other, attendees and speakers alike.
e dynamic heart of the panel was the speakers’ multifaceted backgrounds of expertise; the atmosphere re ected a common aim of understanding the reality of an ongoing crisis, uncovering aws in the sources we rely on. Is this an image of engagement with accessible, multi-dimensional education?
Observing the panel from the audience, I was drawn to the digestible nature of the discus-
sions, suitable for attendees from many academic backgrounds.
Dr Patrick Gill-Tiney, fellow at LSE’s Department of International Relations, spoke of the 2024 US Presidential Election. While addressing both Kamala Harris’ likely ‘mild pressure’ on Israel and Donald Trump’s unlikelihood to support peacekeeping negotiations, he underscored the candidates’
is probes a re ection on how an ordinary person’s concern for crises is heavily curated by the media, hindering the development of an accurate understanding of the situation on the ground. Like the ongoing, yet increasingly less reported Russia-Ukraine war, the media is slowly shi ing the limelight from Israel and Palestine towards Lebanon. is way, global humanitarian crises are no longer treated as matters
‘ ere is a growing tendency to approach crises super cially and endorse ‘empty’ activism.’
contrasting approaches with a public-private distinction. Under a Harris administration, he argued, “US support would likely remain strong” in “public venues like the [UN Security Council]”.
I asked Gill-Tiney to expand on how an ordinary person should understand the legal-political dimension of the con ict, referring to the UN General Assembly’s (UNGA) resolution on Israel’s illegal occupation of Palestinian territory. “ ink of them more as recommendations or as a re ection of global opinion,” he advised, stressing UNGA’s lacking authority to “force” Israel’s withdrawal.
Following Trump’s recent electoral victory, Gill-Tiney emphasised the “sadly negative [geopolitical] consequences” expected. “Military support for Ukraine will dwindle... Israel may seek to annex [more] land… and may receive US support for approval to widen the con ict. All rather bleak.”
What seemed equally bleak was the panellists’ shared pessimistic tone when answering the fundamental question: “what is the future of Palestine?” One speaker, wishing to remain anonymous, stated that we must “return to the core issue”, “shy away from what will happen”, and instead focus on “what should happen”.
Highlighting the need to change the Western perspective, Dr Mustafa addressed dominant international actors: “the international community in Western states have wrongfully taken the lessons of 7 October. Palestinians are losing more land, and the concept of politics is being sidelined.” is is also relevant to ordinary individuals, as many have wrongfully curated their understanding of con icts by relying on media narratives.
superheroes,” he said. Voices of rst-hand perspectives counter apathetic media narratives, more realistically shaping information about ongoing crises.
the public must be profoundly aware of and act upon.
Towards the end, the panel transformed into a debate; one American student asked: “I hear the idea of the US not getting involved too much… is the US trying to maintain a delusion of neutrality?” Jayyab Abusa a, UK-based journalist from the Jabalia refugee camp in Northern Gaza, answered with a personalised overtone, describing Gazans as “victims of a political agenda of every president in power”, challenging a “delusion” presented in many media narratives.
So why continue relying on such misleading narratives?
Dr Tahani Mustafa, Senior Palestine Analyst at the International Crisis Group, sparked concern for the charged nature of language used in describing global con icts. She recounted a common misuse of language in the media discourse concerning the Israel-Palestine con ict, such as the repeated references to “Palestinian autonomy” and never “Palestinian self-determination”.
is is reminiscent of the selectivity of language too, such as the words ‘massacre’, ‘atrocities’, and ‘slaughter’ being employed di erently to ‘killed’ and ‘died’ when documenting tragedies, o en to create an anti-Palestinian narrative.
A er the panel, Jayyab Abusaa expanded on his disappointment towards the pro-Palestinian protests in London during the rst week of October. As a Gazan, the protests made him “more angry and depressed”. Despite supporting peaceful demonstrations and raising awareness of the war, Abusa a stated that activists lack the sensitivity of a rst-hand perspective, showing solidarity without knowing what is happening.
“Nothing is helping [him],” as both the public, including many activists, do not treat protests as an initiative to educate themselves, but rather as a “social event”. Indeed, there is a growing tendency to approach crises super cially and endorse ‘empty’ activism.
Regarding the importance of language used in journalism, Abusa a was blunt about the media steering away from the language of humanity, towards “technicality”. “We need stories. We are not monsters nor
Abusa a also criticised media pieces raising awareness of the con ict in Gaza. Commenting on Al-Jazeera’s 59-minute-long video displaying the names of the con ict’s recorded victims since 7 October 2023, he argued that such methods are dehumanising, portraying Palestinians as “just names”. He concluded: “people are trending.”
e panellists foregrounded the need to humanise an ongoing crisis, not reducing it to mere names, statistics, or policy proposals. Only in this way can reality be presented. e media’s detached tone makes people more accustomed to the insu cient actions taken to address global con icts.
Nonetheless, when considering other ongoing crises, many have become disengaged with or misinformed about them. To inform any action taken to hold political representatives to account, protest against the atrocities seen, or challenge complicity, there needs to be a multifaceted understanding of why an issue is salient.
Attending student-led initiatives and events is a starting point an accessible way to develop a more nuanced understanding of any crisis.
Isabella Shakil-Woodford Contributing Writer Illustrated by Mithalina Taib
When thinking about creativity on campus, words such as ‘forgotten’, ‘hidden’, and ‘magical’ come to mind. Creativity, and the music scene in particular at LSE, feels like a hidden gem something truly special for those who know about it, but invisible for those who don’t.
Despite the corporate reputation of this university, there exists a community, bigger than most would assume, whose passion lies within music. In fact, this passion is not just a hobby, but a serious dedication intended for a career.
But where are they? roughout my three years at LSE, I have worked to nd a group of people on campus who engage in the arts and celebrate all facets of it. ese communities will be the subject of this article the intermediaries between mainstream corporate culture and the fostering of creative expression.
Let me set the scene for you: an open door to a building on campus I have never entered before, an amp holding open the paint chipped door with ‘band jam’ scribbled in blue ink. Taking a few tentative steps down the staircase, I begin to hear an entanglement of sounds loud guitar and lively chatter. In a classroom I didn’t even know existed stood a group of three students from the Album Society, expertly playing classic rock. While I only spent a few minutes there, their talent and passion were palpable.
“We [also] host band jams”, explained Akhmet, the Music Society nanny. “We decentralise [being in a band] a bit. Let other individual members, kind of, make their own bands. We let it happen informally.”
He added, “[through the band jams] people play together and see if there is any chemistry.”
e freedom of creativity fostered through these band jams presents collaborative musicality as something to be celebrated. Even at LSE, individuals are able to nd others who share their interests and passions in music.
ey can spend 30 minutes with a few musicians and see if they gel if not, there is no pressure to continue, but if there is chemistry, bands and quartets are formed. is process is similar to speed dating with the
pus.”
Music Business Society aims to provide insight into the music industry as a career through running talks with people at the forefront of their industry, including Tony Harlow, CEO of Warner Music UK, and head of music at YouTube Dan Chalmers.
Despite the incredible lineup of speakers, the turnout to these events is always lower than expected. It could be said that there just aren’t that many LSE students interested in music, but the hundreds of Music Society members would say
which occurs on the last Friday of every month and, according to the LSE Arts Assistant, is run directly by LSE. She eagerly emphasised how validating it was that LSE ran the open mic directly, instead of smaller societies, as it shows that the institution itself cared for creativity. is reveals the existence of an artistic student community beyond intentional, society-led socials.
Heading to October’s LSE Chill with a few of my friends, we worried that the audience would be small, nervous that the performers would not have people to support them. However, as we
celebrate this, we need to know it exists.
“In my rst year, I told a thirdyear economics student that I wasn’t interested in investment banking or asset management,” shares Samiya Sriwastawa, president of the Music Business Society. “He responded, ‘Oh, so consulting then?’. I realised that in his mind, those were the only options.”
Samiya nds it challenging to fully express her musical self at LSE. “While there are some events on campus, as someone who enjoys classic rock and rock in general, it’s hard to nd spaces where I can truly connect and engage with others on that level. Even if I express it, I don’t think I can engage with it in a meaningful way on cam-
otherwise. Perhaps the di erence here is the intention behind musical expression: is it a future career path, or a way to let o steam?
Maybe a career that isn’t investment banking, asset management, or consulting really isn’t thought to be found at LSE. Societies like the Music Business Society work to challenge this perception.
ere is a sense of comfort in that students and sta are working to support creativity, something which LSE Chill epitomises. is is an event
tion, whooping and cheering as each performer concluded their act. It was a safe space: a safe, artistic, creative space. It was something I did not expect to discover on the LSE campus.
LSE Chill was yet another musical gem but why are such gems hidden? One student interviewed by e Beaver was surprised by the event’s turnout. “I didn’t realise there was a creative community at LSE,” sharing that they had not seen it advertised anywhere, especially compared to other LSE talks. Clearly, despite the existence of events with a non-corporate focus, few students are aware of them, making the goal of creating a cohesive music community on campus incredibly hard to achieve.
While it may be harder to nd fellow musicians than a group of future investment bankers at LSE, it is certainly not impossible. Samiya’s advice for music-minded students is to “ just [talk] to everyone about it. e people who share that passion will naturally gravitate toward it [events and socials].”
were happily surprised. People lined the sides of the room, snacking on bowls of crisps and olives; slowly but surely, they started to make their way towards the front rows of chairs. According to the organisers, around 50 people came to watch the performances throughout the evening, ebbing and owing but consistently showing up.
One by one, singers, songwriters, and comedians took to the stage; some were visibly nervous, while others less so. In fact, I was inclined to approach the performers more than once to congratulate and encourage them to continue developing their cra . Everyone in the audience paid rapt atten-
With so many di erent genres of music, what de nes a ‘music community’ for one person might not resonate with someone else. While there’s a strong support for chamber music and string quartets at LSE, genres like RnB or soul continue to feel more niche, and quite exclusive on campus.
However, with 13,000 students at LSE, a vibrant, if understated, community awaits. Despite the appearance at rst glance, creativity and music does exist on campus. For those who intentionally search for it, the music scene at LSE o ers a unique and multifaceted experience, ready to be discovered.
Once you do, share it.
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Rawan Soujaa
Contributing Writer
Photographed by Rawan Soujaa
Arab lives don’t seem to matter as much as Western lives,” resigned Shady, a Lebanese-born graduate LSE student. To some, the war in the Middle East is merely a casual encounter in the news. But for many, including Lebanese students and sta at LSE, the war is a ecting them and their loved ones in brutal ways. As Shady spoke, almost 5,000 kilometres away, homes and businesses primarily in the capital city and southern and eastern regions of Lebanon were being brutally invaded and bombed by the Israeli military.
“It feels dehumanising…the very foundations of International Human Rights Law are crumbling before our eyes,” Shady added.
On 1 October 2024, Israel launched its h invasion of Lebanon following decades of geopolitical tension that date as far back as the 1948 Nakba, meaning ‘the disaster’ in Arabic and marking the Palestinian loss of homeland.
As Israel continues to deprive Palestinians of their right to self-determination, their destructive campaign which extends beyond Gaza continues to destabilise the region, including Lebanon.
In fact, it was only as recent as 13 October that the Israeli Finance Minister, Bezalel Smotrich, suggested hopes to expand their invasion beyond Lebanon to Damascus in Syria, citing political ambitions of a ‘Greater Israel’. Back in 1948, the founder and rst Prime Minister of the Israeli state, David Ben-Gurion, stated that “[their] aim [was] to smash Lebanon, Trans-Jordan, and Syria… then bomb and move on and take Port Said, Alexandria and Sinai.”
Despite this history and the extreme statements and actions of the Israeli state, the predominant narrative surrounding the Middle East has been riddled with ‘emergency imaginary’ headlines underpinned by juxtaposed tones of Arab passive victimhood and active villainy, and Lebanon has been no di erent. Suddenly, and yet not so suddenly, entire populations, cultures, and identities zzle down to references of militant groups and sectarian political actors, stripping the region’s people of their history, depth, and agency. We see this take shape with ‘Hezbollah’s Lebanon’, ‘Hamas’ Palestine’, ‘Assad’s Syria’, ‘Yemen’s Houthis’, and many other political regimes across the MENA region.
“In commentary about Lebanon, we o en hear statements that what is happening is tragic and heartbreaking. But we’re not talking about an earthquake or a natural disaster here…this is an invasion, a war,” stated Dr. Omar Al-Ghazzi, an Associate Professor at LSE. His own family had to ee their home in Beirut last month as missiles tore through buildings and streets, killing and injuring thousands of civilians.
“ is is a result of policies and actions by Israel and its [Western] backers,” he adds. Dr. Al-Ghazzi, whose research centres on media and journalism in the Middle East, re ects on the focus on terrorism within mainstream coverage of this war. “When you read about airstrikes in media reports, you would be forgiven to think Israel is only targeting militants,” he adds.
Additionally, there is comparatively less attention to the impact on civilians in Palestine and Lebanon that is o en a orded to other crises and con icts.
Since 23 September, over 1 million people in Lebanon have been either killed, injured, displaced, and/or terrorised by Israel’s disproportionate aerial
‘We o en hear statements that what is happening is tragic and heartbreaking. But we’re not talking about an earthquake or a natural disaster here…this is an invasion, a war.’
bombing campaign, pager detonations, and ground incursions.
“You’re seeing thousands of people having to evacuate their homes in the middle of the night in their pyjamas, sleeping on the streets, sleeping in schools,” recounts Dr. Al-Ghazzi.
While those on the ground in Lebanon are unequivocally impacted at a far greater scale, many members of the LSE community are also enduring loss, dread, and the paradoxical guilt and gratitude of being far from home. Several students and sta members at LSE are coping with a stew of complex emotions.
Nina*, an LSE graduate student, mourns the loss of her grandfather’s hometown-turned-rubble following Israeli airstrikes on October 16 in Southern Lebanon’s second most populated city. “Nabatieh is no more…it feels like a part of my history is gone forever.” She recollects the excitement she felt earlier in the year as she planned her rst-ever visit home: “I was nally going back to my home country when everything began in Oc-
tober…there’s another layer of grief within that.”
Noor, a Lebanese LSE undergraduate student who grew up in the UK, reminisces on her visit to Lebanon only two months prior: “My whole village [has been] turned into rubble…my childhood memories are non-existent now.”
Others like Shady, who le their immediate families in Lebanon to pursue education abroad, grapple daily with the fear for their relatives’ safety, as well as the uncertainty of when they will reunite. “Maybe it’s sel sh, but I had plans to go back for Christmas…I don’t know when I will see them again.”
During what feels like an endless loop of calls for cease res, interviewees noted the growing manifestation of external crisis fatigue, despite the escalating presence of war.
“My grandparents’ cemetery was bombed two weeks ago,” shared Noor. “ is brought to light how many people don’t reach out to you in those situations,” which she partially attributed to the perceived ambiguity and sensitivity of
the subject by those outside of the con ict.
Today, Lebanon continues to endure pain and su ering. From the country’s civil war that ended in 1990, to Israel’s occupation of the south until 2000, and its war on Lebanon in 2006, in conjunction with one of the world’s worst nancial crises in 2019, and a port blast that destroyed much of the capital city in 2020, the question stands are Lebanese people born to su er? Does any one nation or ethnic group truly possess a genetic predisposition to endure colossal hardship and carry on?
e answer is of course not. ese questions encourage us to read beyond the painful statistics and emotionally-charged headlines to critically question the magnitude of human su ering, the loss of family trees and their bloodlines, of dreams in stolen futures, of memories and the homes they took place in. In Noor’s words, it is easy to get stuck “viewing something for what it could have been, instead of what it is”, but by no means should we comfortably swallow the widely prescribed pill that Lebanon - in all its beauty and complexity - is simply not destined for peace.
*Names have been changed to preserve anonymity
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Chloe Amaratunga Brooks Contributing Writer Illustrated by Francesca Corno
If you’ve ever watched Married at First Sight (MAFS), you know it’s a show lled with drama, blindfolded vows, and a healthy serving of awkward silences when couples realise they’ve just promised to spend their lives with someone they’d swipe le on Tinder. But beyond the chaos, the show sparks conversation on how men perceive and value women, highlighting the tension between super cial attraction and deeper emotional connections and raising a question that’s been haunting society for ages: do men only value women they nd physically attractive?
It seems like an obvious ‘yes’ when watching the initial moments of the show–guys standing at the altar, internally debating whether their brideto-be is their ‘‘type’ based on a ve-second glance.
At the core of this discussion is female objecti cation–a phenomenon deeply ingrained in social expectations and media portrayals. A er all, sex sells. In popular media, women are so o en reduced to what’s visually appealing, to the point where appearances and their value in romantic contexts have just been too heavily entrenched. MAFS emphasises this dynamic. is tendency is driven by a cocktail of cultural conditioning, media reinforcement, and perhaps a little bit of the aptly coined ‘Hollywood syndrome’ –where beauty standards act as the benchmark for female worth, and everything else comes second. Men are o en taught, consciously or subconsciously (through the syndrome’s namesake), that a woman’s appearance is a key indicator of her worth. And let’s be honest, reality TV thrives on that idea–where rst impressions carry signicant weight.
e ‘love at rst sight’ trope becomes heavily romanticised in mainstream media and taps
all-consuming connection that supersedes logic–an idea that is both thrilling and idealistic. For viewers, it’s the promise of an uncomplicated, almost magical experience, and one that validates the idea that love can and should be easy, predestined, and based on an intense initial attraction. When media like MAFS portrays this as ‘love’, it reinforces the notion that physical attraction is the ultimate basis for a romantic connection, sidelining aspects of true intimacy like emotional compatibility and trust. is immediate infatuation bypasses real-life relational dynamics, making it a powerful but super cial narrative tool where attraction takes a backseat to compatibility and objecti cation runs rife.
Certain ‘types’ of women are valued more than others, often aligning with certain social stereotypes. e ‘girl next door’ archetype.l that ts neatly into traditional, non-threatening roles of femininity: beauty wrapped in a neat bow of intelligence, morality, and reliability. is is the type of woman many men on MAFS seem to gravitate toward. Why? Because she’s safe. In fact, being ‘girl-next-door attractive’ comes with a bonus halo e ect: she’s assumed to be more intelligent and moral by virtue of her simplicity. On the ip side, we have the women who get unfairly tossed into the ‘dangerous’ category. According to old-school objecti cation logic, women who dress provocatively or openly embrace their sexuality are frequently viewed as less intelligent, more immoral, and even harmful in relationships, a perception that is tied to long-standing stigmas around female sexuality, where promiscuity or daring fashion choices can cause women to be dismissed as ‘untrustworthy’ or lacking in depth. ink Curley’s Wife with her red lipstick and the temptation of female sexuality. But for many men on shows like MAFS,
when women break these conservative moulds and become a femme fatale character (exciting, but somehow assumed to be morally corrupt and less intelligent). ese women are viewed as high-risk, perpetuating the persistent conservative idea that if a woman dresses provocatively or is openly sexual, she’s more likely to be ‘harmful’. And so, we have two types of objecti cation playing out: the girl-next-door versus the femme fatale, in which men o en nd themselves drawn to the girl-next-door archetype, using the latter and dismissing her worth.
thinness equals safety and romance? In reality, this creates a harmful narrative where fatness is not just devalued but seen as incompatible with romance.
While it is reductive to blame all men for subscribing to such a harmful narrative, the success of MAFS among (particularly) male viewers remains indicative of a larger problem. Men, in many cases, are implicitly taught to value women based on how closely they align with rigid beauty standards, sometimes at the expense of deeper connections and understand-
‘It’s about time we stopped loving at first sight and love whole, complex individuals instead.’
As we fall deeper into this world of archetypes and tropes, we also have to address how the mother gure or caregiver archetype is o en disregarded or sideline. Women who don’t t the “desirable” mould - like mums, grandmothers, or anyone in a nurturing role - o en end up invisible in these stories (think Spiderman’s Aunt May) is setup applied to MAFS rarely leaves room for motherly, caregiver gures who don’t t the young, glamorous ideal; in fact, they’re usually absent from these shows altogether. And if it couldn’t get worse, the thing that comes up again in every series of MAFS by these problematic men is fatphobia (a relatively modern concept that neglects older ideas of fatness being a sign of beauty and wealth), especially as it intersects with gender beauty standards and plays a signi cant role in how individuals, particularly women, are valued. Fatness o en falls outside of traditional, rigid beauty standards that prize thinness as synonymous with femininity, desirability, and worth. On shows like MAFS, where initial physical attraction can heavily in uence how relationships evolve. Meanwhile,
ing. e result? We’re le with a show that provides endless entertainment but perpetuates shallow judgments. And while we all know that reality TV casts awed characters to drive views, these personalities keep appearing and are not con ned to these shows. Shows like MAFS serve as a mirror to society’s continued grappling with female objectication.
And while many of us may feel we have progressed as an inclusive society in terms of romantic preferences, the success of MAFS says otherwise. We can combat these ideas by shi ing to more egalitarian love stories - ones where both partners actively choose each other and communicate their interests - the narrative becomes more balanced. is doesn’t just subvert old-fashioned gender roles; it also presents relationships as partnerships built on reciprocity rather than conquest. And it’s about time we stopped ‘loving’ at rst sight as a society and teach others to love whole, complex individuals instead.
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Saira Afzal News Editor
On 24 June 2022, the U.S Supreme Court ruled on Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, overruling historic decisions Roe v. Wade and Planned Parenthood v. Casey that enshrined the constitutional right to an abortion. Polling predicted the issue of reproductive rights would play a signi cant role in the 2024 elections.
Yet Trump won. e presidential race wasn’t even close. Do American voters care about women’s reproductive rights? What is the average American voter’s opinion on abortion?
Pre-election, I would have argued, like many pollsters, that women would gravitate toward the Democratic par-
ty. Post-election, this is still somewhat true; according to preliminary exit poll data, white college-educated women did not shi further Republican compared to 2020. Overall, women aged 18-29 preferred Harris 58% to 40%. e gender gap - driven by young, white, and Latino men voting for Trump and young women voting for Harris - was a staggering 32-point gap in youth voting.
However, there was a rightwards shi among all demographics, including women and people of colour. Although women aged 18-29 preferred Harris, they also shi ed to the right this election, shi ing 15 points rightward since 2018. e shi rightwards for young men between 2018-2024 is even more pronounced, shiing nearly 30 points right. To be clear, women voters did shi towards the Democratic party overall, but the shi
was modest. e number of women voters turning out for the Democrats actually fell 3 points from 2020. Strikingly, Harris didn’t do well with the traditionally Democratic-leaning Latino voters, as Trump gained a signi cant number of Latino male voters. In addition, Trump did better with young voters, both male and female, compared to 2020. Overall, the gender gap in voting was “big but not unusual”, according to AP.
is doesn’t suggest reproductive rights are not important to the electorate. Missourians voted for an amendment that enshrined abortion rights into their constitution, a er being the rst state to enforce an abortion ban post-Dobbs. Arizona voters approved an amendment to enshrine abortion rights in their state constitution too. So did Maryland voters and New York voters. Colorado did the same, while
Shreya Gupta Contributing Writer
The feeling of déjà vu is certainly real. Upon hearing the results of the historical election, the rst person that popped into my mind was my close friend living in North Carolina, and then Xi Jinping… quite the strange transition. A fear of the unknown got me thinking about the current state of US-China relations, and its future trajectory during a Trump presidency. Biden’s anti One-China policy statements and Pelosi’s visit to Taiwan certainly exacerbated a rapid decline in US-China relations, but speci c tactics in resolving tensions remain quite cryptic. is approach of ‘strategic ambiguity’ would have likely persisted in a Harris administration, but little has been said by either her or Trump about possible strategies. Whilst op-
position to China is remarkably bipartisan, they remain divided in how to actively respond to China’s rise.
If Trump’s 2018 trade war is any indication of his tactics, provoking China is likely to be on his foreign policy agenda.
Xi’s recent congratulations to Trump in winning the election called for a stable and cooperative relationship; possibly a response to Trump’s statement to the Wall Street Journal that he would impose tari s if Taiwan’s security was infringed upon. What scared me the most was when I read Trump’s remark that Xi “respects me and he knows I’m crazy” (well, at least he’s self-aware). “Crazy” can be open to interpretation, but for me this simply means unpredictable and volatile - neither of which are preferable when discussing global security.
It is highly probable that US-China relations will wors-
also voting to allow public funding to be used for abortion care. In Florida, 5.8 million people voted to repeal the abortion ban, but the amendment did not pass.
Pro-life views do not represent the majority view in America. One of Democratic VP nominee Tim Walz’s campaign messages was that ‘the government ought to stay out of your personal lives’. Out of every message we’ve seen in Kamala’s 16-week campaign, this was the one of the most compelling slogans the Dems came out with, because it reects the attitude of the regular American voter.Following this slogan’s argument, even the average Alabama voter believes abortion should be legal. e Democrat campaign video ads, depicting a woman dying from pregnancy complications and being denied an abortion to save her life, re ects a very real and salient situation.
Americans can agree:: the government shouldn’t make choices about your body.
e Democratic campaign had hoped that the abortion issue would result in record turnout for Harris, but banking on the gender gap to earn votes has failed spectacularly.. Despite all of this, seven states have voted to enshrine abortion rights in their state constitution, which proves two things. One, reproductive rights is important to voters. Two, voters by-andlarge reject a blanket abortion ban, or at the very least agree with Tim Walz’s golden rule to “mind your own damn business”. e gender gap gamble didn’t pay o for the Harris-Walz presidency campaign, but, ghting for reproductive rights must happen primarily on a state-level to win women’s votes for Democrats in the House and Senate.
en under a Trump presidency, especially considering how the current environment in the South China Sea is a global ashpoint. Asian-Paci c security has come under great threat since Trump’s re-election was announced due to concerns over his ‘America First’ agenda and plans to cut back foreign aid. is would lay the perfect conditions for China’s growth as a regional, and possibly global, hegemon as Asian Paci c nations - particularly the Philippineswould no longer be able to defend themselves against China without US support.
I think the most contentious issue, however, will be the defence of Taiwan. Trump’s nature and personality as a bold leader could deter Xi from using coercive tactics in Taiwan. However, the US defense budget may say otherwise. While military investment is increasing under Biden (as seen through his proposals
for a staggering $850 billion for the year of 2025), Trump’s recent statements that Taiwan should pay for US protection suggests a di erent approach of an ‘America First’ policy where foreign interventions are sidelined.
Regarding general foreign policy, Trump’s attention will certainly shi from Ukraine to China, which entails cuts in NATO defense spending. In 2018, Trump shi ed his atten tion to China from the global war on terror, suggesting how this global rivalry seems to be of greater signi cance for him. is could have disastrous consequences for the wider world where US-China for eign policy will have implica tions for both Russian expan sive aims as well as the EU’s role, which will need to step up as a global power to replace the increasingly unpredictable transatlantic alliance.
So in conclusion, there is no conclusion. ere may have been one
if Harris had won but, unless I am dreaming (I hope I am), Trump’s whopp-ing win suggests this was not the outcome. Trump’s foreign policy towards China could realistically go either way, but what is not as uncertain is Trump’s desire to compete and win. Whether it be through more severe trade wars or a military escalation in the South China Sea, rela-
Salma Abuelatta Contributing Writer
The Democrats have attempted to combat Trump’s populism by appealing to the median voter and attempting a generalist approach. But their lack of a concrete stance is alienating their voter base—particularly Arab-Americans. Following Trump’s unexpected landslide victory in the 2024 election, many of us nd ourselves asking: why?
ough the answers to those questions are truly vast and complex, a closer look at the Arab-American voter base in Dearborn, Michigan - a swing state - proves to be instructive.
Dearborn is the largest American city with a majority Arab-American population, at 54.5%. In 2020, Dearborn
overwhelmingly supported Biden over Trump, with Biden garnering almost triple the number of votes. is year, Trump dominated Dearborn’s polls, receiving up to 19% more votes than Harris.
Trump, even more than Harris, has infamously proclaimed his support for Israel, championing himself as Israel’s “defender and protector”—so why would Arab-Americans vote for him?
Harris and the Biden Administration have been promoting both a cease re and a hostage swap deal. ey have insisted on protecting Israel’s right to self-defence, as well as the humanity of Palestinians. ey have tried to ‘both-sides’ the situation, which has only alienated Arab-American voters who feel this has inadvertently bene tted Israel.
e Harris Campaign denied
a speaking slot to Palestinian Americans at the DNC. dispatched Israeli apologists to speak in Michigan such as Richie Torres and Bill Clinton, who infamously argued at a rally in Dearborn that Israel was “forced” to kill Gazans and “Israelis were in the Holy Land rst”. Most tellingly, Harris scolded a loud pro-Palestinian protestor at a rally for inter rupting her, with her re catchphrase: “I am speaking.” “I am speaking” has become a symbol of the paternalistic, alienating way that the Demo cratic Party is treating its Arab-American voters.
Despite his track-record of Islamophobia, Trump’s campaign has emphasised a consistent message to Arab-Americans that he aims to end the war fast—unlike the Democrats who are reluctant to adapt to changing voter priorities. is is far more persuasive than the Democrats’
by a meagre 4%, which is also partially due to Stein’s pro-Palestinian stance, being the only candidate to explicitly refer to the con ict in Gaza as a genocide.
Whilst Stein is still miles behind, one thing is clear. Harris’ campaign depended too much on the fear of Trump and the limitations of the two-party system to mobilise
their bases of support—and they’re starting to su er for it.
It is clear that the Democrats can no longer hide behind the safety of the two-party system. ey need to do something far more revolutionary—actually represent their supporters rather than relying on being the ‘lesser of two evils’.
Tanuj Singh Contributing Writer
Bruce Springsteen embodies America like few others, and his albums each represent competing articulations of the zeitgeist of
the connections between 2024 and 1968 seem eerily psychic. An unpopular Democratic incumbent - once deputy to a charismatic beacon of change - coerced out of his reelection bid. A might-have-been legacy of domestic transformation undone by in ation and a generation-de ning foreign war. e incumbent vice president nominated instead. A slippery Republican opponent - once a pariah following a narrow election loss - now campaigning on a grim platform of law and order. RFK in the spotlight. Social division at fever pitch, represented by aggressively partisan platforms. A supposed tossup panning out as a Republican rout. We still remember how Nixon’s reign ended, right?
Many appear to have forgotten that Biden’s 2020 victory, a er an admittedly uninspiring campaign, could largely be attributed to mass fatigue a er Trump’s chaotic, farcical
rst term. Perhaps the electorate has taken a collective amnesia pill or developed a twisted Stockholm syndrome - or maybe time has simply run its course - explaining the failure of a more vital, engaged candidate in Harris. No matter what the Harris autopsy concludes, Biden’s hands are bloody–his initial decision to seek reelection and subsequent hesitation to drop out were damning missteps. at too, we must remember this is a far less coherent, more deranged Trump or maybe this is his peak–his king-hell nal form, and the ultimate (d)evolution of a generational political movement.
Trump’s return to Washington is a pretty incredible thought—and mostly depressing. He threatens to restructure government and society in his own image, but equally certainly promises gravity and consequence at every turn. e former prospect is daunting but the latter not entirely disa-
greeable, given the air of futility which pervades the present–at least my personal present, as I stumble through the limbo between youth and adulthood. And on a slightly sel sh note, this could represent the vindication of my eastward move across the Atlantic in 2022— something I resented for long and occasionally still ruminate over.
Consolation is tricky to articulate and trickier to accept.
1968’s consolation was that the ‘revolution’ was still alive and would outlast the antichrist Nixon just as it had LBJ, but it could not even survive itself; the Manson Murders, Altamont Disaster, and Kent State Massacre sealed the movement’s fate. Any consolation or revolution in 2024? If anything, today’s revolution just won the election. Fatalism may seem a logical recourse, but this induces depressing conclusions which I have no appetite for. It remains that every day of
the next four years presents a chance for collective wills to be revitalised, a chance to turn o our lives’ autopilot, and a chance to rediscover convictions lost to indi erence.
I prefer Born to Run to Darkness, but at times I’m choosing the latter. Ultimately, diving deep into Darkness’ despondency and tragedy is what makes Born to Run’s Wagnerian-escapist-heroism so much more special the next time you spin it. And when Bruce’s harmonica sparks “ under Road” into life, you realise how much you’ve missed a sunny day. Four years, but daylight must eventually ‘trump’ night.
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“It’s more than momen tary entertainment: board games foster introspection and make you care about the people you play with.”
“UNO unex pectedly brings di erent people together in the best way. People always have to agree on house rules before starting because we all played it di erently growing up.”
We asked avid board game enthusiasts what they enjoy most about playing tabletop games, and how it reflects more widely on community-building.
“Some of the closest friends I’ve made are from playing board games.” Attending (LSESU’s Tabletop Society) sessions feels like a nice “refuge away from the intensitiy of LSE’s hustle culture.”
“Amidst the lying and deception, playing poker was how I realised I liked my (current) boyfriend.”
“It is such an underrated way to make friends as you truly learn a lot about people just by the way they play. Some of my best memories at LSE took place arguing over a board game, and it is a welcomed break from the pressures of academics.”
“As a general course student, the Tabletop Society is a good way of meeting people due to the mutal sense of “nerd comraderie.”
“Playing card games is a tradition that has been passed down by mulitiple generations of women in my family!”
“It’s nice having something you can collectively experience with friends, like laughing along
Because of how integral roleplaying is in Dungeons & Dragons, it serves as an “exercise in empathy”. You have to put yourself in the shoes of people you’d never expect to encounter in real life, allowing you to “feel emotions that you never thought you’d be feeling.”
It’s incredibly easy to form friendships and dynamics because you “can’t be mean to someone without learning their name”, (especially when
Do you have particularly strong thoughts on the state of your department’s common room?
By Spooky Beaver
49 A spot frequented by ghouls, monsters, and other creepies 54 Yemeni gulf
is and a sneeze will
Atop
A vampire uses these to get home runs 23 Houmous ingredient
“... sitting in _____, K-I-S-
Ghosts might drink these for pres
32 Roof overhangs
55 A er a cut, in poker 56 Long time 60 Hospital section 61 Shop to buy prosciutto or provolone
62 1965 Alabama march site
63 Con dentiality agreements, abbr.
64 Trudge (through work) 65 With regrets
22 Running behind
e sound X used to make
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By Paavas Bansal
In the rst episode of our new podcast series ‘Born with an Identity Crisis’, Nora explores what it means growing up with multiple national, cultural identities, and how that has a ected who we have become.
EDITED BY SKYE SLATCHER AND JO WEISS
by JOSH THOMAS
As the new Treasurer of the Athletics Union, I’m committed to ensuring that “AU for all” is more than just a throwaway comment: it’s the guiding principle for the AU committee and an ethos that all our members should follow. With over 40 clubs and nearly 900 members, inclusivity isn’t just a consideration; it’s at the heart of all our planning and discussions for the academic year. As the AU’s agship events are always successful every year, there’s no need to reinvent the wheel. Instead, our focus is on strengthening our inclusive culture and exploring how we can best represent and support each member of our community. is means supporting athletes and teams as they compete across London and the UK, as well as making sure our social events are accessible, safe, and genuinely enjoyable for every single individual within the Athletics Union.
is is a message that resonates with me personally and inspired me to apply for the role. While it has been enjoyable being actively involved in event planning for Carol and the AU Ball, it’s more important to me that we have the opportunity and position to champion the rights of AU members. e committee acts as the rst point of contact for societies and individuals to raise issues or complaints, and that’s not only a responsibility to be taken seriously, but something to be proud of. While we hope that complaints are infrequent, it’s vital that people know we are open to hearing their concerns and are proactively dealing with them. e AU committee should be transparent and approachable, and that’s an image that we consciously want to foster throughout the year.
is year’s agship events remain the same: AU Welcome, Carol, Fight Night, and AU Ball. With a successful AU Welcome kicking o in our rst week, Carol is now just around the corner. We’ve considered feedback from previous years, and we’re con dent this year’s club lineup won’t disappoint. Fight Night trials were held last week, with o cial training set to start in the new year. Finally, preparations are already underway for the AU Ball. While there’s not much I can reveal yet, we’re all committed to making it another unforgettable evening on the AU calendar.
In addition to these events, we’ve already celebrated Black History Month with our ACS x AU Sway, and the HandsO LSE Sway is set for the same evening as the RAG Casino Night. e ACS x AU Sway
was a fantastic night, drawing a new crowd who enjoyed a night of R&B, Hip Hop, and Afrobeats. Embracing diversity is one of the AU’s greatest strengths, and celebrating the di erent cultures within our community is essential. Similarly, the HandsO LSE Sway will highlight our commitment to charity and raising awareness around key issues impacting AU members. All proceeds from the event will support HandsO LSE as part of our ongoing partnership. is partnership is re ected in Sam, our AU President, sitting on the HandsO LSE locker room panel, as well as our requirement that all AU event attendees complete Consent Ed training.
is is my third year as a member of the AU, and while my responsibilities have shi ed as Treasurer, my commitment to making the most of the experience remains as strong as ever. I may not be the most ‘athletic’ member in terms of competition, but many of my best memories at LSE have come from being part of the AU. at’s exactly how I want every AU member to feel by the end of this academic year. e AU is for all, and as a committee, we’re dedicated to ensuring all our members have the best time possible!
by SAIRA AFZAL
On 22 October, the LSESU kicked o its Show Racism e Red Card football tournament to raise awareness for the anti-racism charity of the same name. Matches lasted four to ve minutes, played over an hour. e tournament was run in a round-robin style, with ve teams, consisting of ve players each, competing in the event. Players were encouraged to wear red laces in support of Show Racism e Red Card (SRtRC), which harnesses the in uence of football players to ght against racism in the UK. SRtRC runs educational workshops for young people across the UK, providing educational sessions for approximately 50,000 people per year.
e tournament between LSE students was competitive but friendly, as everyone gathered to play for a good cause. It was delightful to see so many players show up and support each other despite forming their teams on the day. Everyone was in good spirits, egging each other on when matches were being played.
e rst match between Cemsational and Duncan Against Racism ended in 0-0.
e second match between Kangaroos and Team Four ended in a 0-1 victory for Team Four. Kangaroos were ercely o ensive, attempting more shots than Team Four. Kangaroos also had a strong goalkeeper who blocked three attempts in just three minutes. However, Team Four snatched victory with a last-second goal, just before the Klaxon red.
e third match, between EU and Cemsational, was fought aggressively, with a 2-2 tie. e rst two goals by Cemsational were scored in the rst two minutes, redeeming themselves a er failing to score in their rst match. EU held their ground, however, scoring two goals with the very last goal being scored with 20 seconds to spare.
e fourth match saw Duncan Against Racism and Kangaroos battling it out, with the Kangaroos goalkeeper again showing his superb defending skills blocking three attempts from Duncan Against Racism. Duncan Against Racism showed valiant e ort with their o ensive playstyle but missed the mark by hitting the goalpost twice. Both teams tied 0-0.
Team Four and EU went head-to-head in match ve, with EU scoring the rst goal of the match easily. Team Four gained ground however by scoring with 40 seconds to spare, bringing the teams to a tie with one goal a piece.
EU’s goalkeeper proved to be another strong defender, blocking 3 attempts from Team Four!
Kangaroos and Cemsational went ahead with the sixth match, ending in a 1-0 to the latter. Kangaroos’ one goal took them to victory against Cemsational in the sixth match.
e seventh match, between Duncan Against Racism and Team Four, was fought with intensity despite ending 0-0. Team Four had two strong attempts but unfortunately, both attempts hit the post. Another two attempts by Team Four were rmly blocked by Duncan Against Racism’s goalkeeper.
e last match, between EU and Kangaroos, secured another 0-1 victory for Kangaroos.
As of 22 October, the league table had Kangaroos leading with seven points, Team Four in second place with ve points, and Duncan Against Racism in third place with three points. EU and Cemsational tied for last place with two points each.
e tournament was a great success and a brilliant way to celebrate Black History Month, with players encouraged to donate to the charity at the end of the match. It was also successful in bringing more awareness to SRtRC.
e education-focused charity aims to challenge racist stereotypes and negative attitudes in society. By donating to SRtRC, you can help educate young people about racism and provide specialist training to teachers, so that they are well-equipped to deal with racial abuse in schools. SRtRC estimates that three in four teachers deal with racism in their schools every year without proper training. is tournament was just one of many fundraising events hosted by schools and universities to aid SRtRC in its mission to break down barriers between communities and challenge racist attitudes.
by VISHRUT GOEL & Illustrated by PAAVAS BANSAL
e Motorsports Society, a community of passionate motor racing fans, offers an exhilarating environment for motorsport lovers of all levels. With activities ranging from karting competitions and F1 screenings to factory visits and industry talks, we provide immersive experiences designed to excite anyone drawn to the world of motorsports. Whether you’re a devoted F1 follower, a casual fan, or someone fascinated by the engineering behind automotive excellence, Motorsports Soc has something for everyone.
Karting lies at the heart of our society’s activities—the thrill of driving, the excitement of competition, and, of course, the camaraderie that comes with racing together. We organise frequent karting sessions at indoor and outdoor tracks around London, and these sessions have become a must-attend
for anyone who’s looking to experience the buzz of F1 up close. Open to all skill levels, our events welcome everyone, from newcomers to seasoned racers.
I still remember my rst race—I didn’t even crack the top 10! Yet, with each session, I found myself improving, one lap at a time. It’s this steady progress and shared experience that keeps me hooked. Our latest session on 16 October was one for the books, with a mix of experienced drivers and fresh enthusiasts battling it out to make it to the podium.
Karting isn’t just about speed: it’s about precision, skill, and that drive to be better every lap. Each session gives us a chance to build friendly rivalries, sharpen our techniques, and share the adrenaline rush with others. We always leave with fantastic memories and new friendships, making these events truly unforgettable.
Our F1 viewing events are a huge highlight! Hosted at various spots around London, such as local pubs. Our members bring ags, jerseys, and a shared love for F1, making each viewing a lively and memorable experience. By watching the races unfold as a group, we immerse ourselves in each stunning overtake and heartbreaking shunt with fellow fans. ese viewings aim to build a true F1 community at LSE, where fans can meet, connect, and dive into everything from team strategies to driver rivalries. Personally, one of my favorite screenings was at Belushi’s London Bridge for the Mexican GP, where Max took a 20-second penalty and, for once, wasn’t in the top ve! With each race, our screenings keep growing, o ering a much richer experience than watching alone on a laptop screen.
To deepen our members’ understanding of motorsports, we organise visits to factories and museums that showcase the incredible technology, engineering, and history behind some of the world’s most iconic automotive brands. is November, we are planning a tour of the BMW MINI Oxford plant, with a trip to Mercedes-Benz World in Weybridge also in the works. ese rare behind-the-scenes looks at the intricate processes involved in building world-class vehicles are so exciting and I am thrilled that we are making it possible this year!
e motorsport industry boasts an incredible network of experts, and we’re excited to bring some of these voices to our members through speaker events planned for later this term. By inviting professionals from motorsports, engineering, and design—and tapping into LSE’s extensive alumni network—we aim to o er industry insights that are both informative and inspiring. A er all, it wouldn’t be an LSESU society without an element of career hustle! ese events will be fantastic opportunities not only to learn but also to network with insiders who can o er guidance on navigating a career in motorsports.
Fundamentally, Motorsports Soc is more than just a club: it’s a network of students who share a passion for motorsports and all things automotive. For those new to motorsports, the society serves as a welcoming space to learn about the industry. For more seasoned enthusiasts, it’s a place to connect, compete, and deepen their passion. Whether you are looking for an adrenaline-fueled karting experience, an intense F1 viewing party, or an educational factory visit, I hope that our agenda for the year will o er an unrivalled experience! We are all about sharing the thrill of motorsports, and we welcome anyone with a love for cars, competition, and community. Come for the races, stay for the friendships, and experience the incredible world of motorsports with us.
EDITED BY SOPHIA-INES KLEIN AND JENNIFER LAU
by JENNIFER LAU & illustrated by FRANCESCA CORNO
On the night of 13 October, my feed was ooded with in uencers encourag ing me to tune in to the Victoria’s Secret (VS) show’s comeback.
A er a six-year hiatus and a multitude of controversies, the VS show was back in full swing, putting in its full ef fort to reinstate its legacy a er 2018’s lowest television viewership in history. With a promise to restore all the glo ry of its heyday, VS marketed the show as what ‘all the girls are looking I tuned in. Unfortunately, the conclu time for the ‘extravaganza’, the show just didn’t seem to meet the mark. Let’s be honest: it felt generic, underwhelming, and was a hollow shell of what it promised to be. Are we witnessing VS’s renewed comeback or should we discount the return of the VS show for its unaligned vision?
e biggest topic of conversation is, of course, the collection. On the whole, I think VS played it safe and simple with its stylistic choices. e entire show was a blur of lace, sheer tulle, and predictable prints, including ve collections with none that le a strong impression. In past shows, VS selected only their favourite models to wear the 1-million-dollar fantasy bras or its signature fantastical wings. is has, in part, established the VS show as the ultimate lingerie brand: the shock factor when the chosen Angel walks down the runway in elegant, ethereal pieces that stay on people’s minds long a er the show itself. It’s no mystery why we see so many VS Angels on Halloween.
Capitalising on this popularity, the 2024 show put almost all models in various variations of wings, including a wired ‘Victoria’s Secret’ wing. is fell at for me. While these wings o ered a fantastical unique element to the lingerie, the inclusion of wings on every out t, when only chosen models wore them in past shows, made the show feel over-produced and the wings obligatory rather than a stylistic choice. Who wants to watch a predictable show?
e cautious approach is again seen with Tyra Bank’s closing out t. She closed the show donned in a black cape, full bodysuit and a simple diamond corset. e choice to have Banks end the 2024 show robed in what I think is a frankly boring out t is just one indication of the VS team simply relying on her iconic status to create a ‘bang’. Would the judgemental Tyra of the 2000s approve of this? In my opinion, VS was terri ed of a failed returnand made cautious stylistic decisions because of it, simply relying on their
iconic model lineup to make an impression.
A key element of why Victoria’s Secret shows were a part of the cultural zeitgeist was due to the interactions between the models, audience, and the singers. Victoria’s Secret di erentiated itself from other fashion shows for its standout pop culture moments with A-listers like exes Bella Hadid and the Weeknd’s interaction, and Taylor Swi and Karlie Kloss’ combined bestie walk. e liveliness, the interactions between the models and singers, and the models’ playfulness in end-of-walkway poses were all what made it enticing and di erent from other shows. is year, the show was noticeably missing these elements, with model Mika Schneider even going viral for looking like she was barely invested in being on stage, let alone on the VS runway. e removal of such feels like a cautious attempt at a return, unable to shed its former shadow but also too frightened to create something new. Without these de ning VS show features, what sets it apart from any other fashion show?
To me, the only model that made an impression was Adriana Lima, a longtime VS show veteran. Her walk brought back the energy of the past and reminded us of VS’s legacy. But just one model bringing Victoria’s Secret’s energy feels lacklustre and fails to capture the irty and glamorous spirit the brand is known for.
If you ask me, the novelty of this year’s VS show rode on the back of our memories and nostalgia of past shows. Without its extravagant styling and powerful runway performance, it was just another lingerie show capitalising on the fame of its star-studded runway. My nal verdict is this, with Victoria’s Secret shows’ iconic legacy, they owe it to their fans to bring back its creativity and energy if they want to maintain their standing as a cultural fashion hallmark.
Tibetan hidden gems don’t o en nd their way into student newspapers, but hear me out: e London Tibet Film Festival, running from 22 to 24 November, is a must-see. ere won’t be another chance to see a programme of independent Tibetan lms set against stunning Himalayan landscapes again. Alongside the screenings, the festival brings in renowned Tibetan musicians, dancers, and scholars to perform and engage in rich discussions. Moreover, by attending the London Tibet Film Festival, you contribute to the ongoing survival and growth of Tibetan cinema. Don’t miss out–secure tickets on the festival’s o cial website.
e ideas that distinguish Tibetan cinema from Hollywood
Tibetan cinema o en transcends traditional storytelling by weaving in a deep connection between humans and the natural world. e Tibetan landscape is treated not as a backdrop but as a living character: the snow-capped mountains, vast plains, and sacred animals re ect the spiritual and existential questions the characters grapple with. By focusing on nature’s raw beauty and power, Tibetan lmmakers invite audiences to contemplate humanity’s fragile place within the larger ecosystem, raising profound questions about how we coexist with the environment that sustains us.
In Tibetan culture, nature is intertwined with spirituality, and that reverence translates onto the screen. Unlike mainstream lms that may use landscapes as mere settings for action, Tibetan lms o en use the landscape to evoke a meditative stillness, encouraging viewers to re ect on their own connec-
tion to the natural world. is distinct relationship with nature opens up a dialogue not just about environmental issues, but about the inner landscapes of the characters and, by extension, the viewers themselves.
Tibetan cinema reveals just how much our modern lives prevent us from connecting deeply with the elemental forces of nature that have determined human existence for millennia.
A great example of this is in the great vanguard Pema Tseden’s nal lm before his tragic passing last year, Snow Leopard, which will be screened on 24 November. e snow leopard transcends being just an animal; it symbolises a bridge between the spiritual and physical worlds. It is majestic, wild, and untamable. It mirrors nature’s raw forces, and yet it also must confront the encroaching sphere of human in uence. e big cat reminds us of the delicate balance in nature that humans increasingly disrupt. In watching such a lm, one can’t help but feel a renewed sense of wonder about our shared place in the world. Tickets to this cinematic masterpiece are available on the Tibet Film Festival website.
Why it’s worth attending if you know nothing
One of the greatest joys of cinema is the way it can transport you to places you’ve never been, showing you cultures, ideas, and stories that open your mind and challenge your perspective. e London Tibet Film Festival does exactly that. e themes in Tibetan lms–humanity, nature, tradition versus modernity–are universal, o ering every viewer something to connect with, regardless of cultural background. Tibetan cinema invites us to reconnect with the world beyond the con nes of our daily routines, a world that pulsates with life, beauty, and mystery. For many of us engulfed in the whirlwind of fast-paced urban living, this London Tibet Film Festival o ers a much-needed moment of re ection. It’s a chance to see a slower, more meditative way of life that contrasts with our own, and to question what we might learn from it.
by EMERSON LAM
Personally, I nd it di cult to come up with conversation starters, and I’m sure many of you would agree. When it’s so much easier to be in your own zone and chronically online, there simply might not be a need to make conversation anymore. I’ve had this mindset most of my life, until two key interactions on my graduation trip to Japan that ultimately changed my viewpoint.
Travelling to Shikoku, a secluded island far from Japan’s tourist hotspots, our ragtag group ended up in the town of Kochi. Although the town itself was considered large for the island, the absence of tourists meant that even the shopping streets intended for ocks of visitors were le barebone, only occasionally visited by a few. It was here that I found myself exhausted and wandering aimlessly, hunched over from the weight of my backpack with my spirit cracked from the countless long train rides I had taken.
I walked a few streets past what was meant to be the tourist ‘hotspot’ and one place caught my eye: a printing shop, sta ed by an old man and his little cat. Seeing this animal, I mustered up the courage to ask in my broken, google-translated Japanese, “Neko wa nan-saidesu ka (How old is the cat)?”
e man smiled at me and replied in his own broken English, “six tsuki (month).”
I was really happy to strike up a conversation with a local, so I proceeded to ask him if I could pet the kitten.
Although he obliged, the kitten did not, trying to scurry away from the owner’s grip. I could only laugh as he picked it back up and proceeded to talk to me about his printing shop and the cat. Unfortunately, the conversation couldn’t go far with our limited grasp of each other’s languages. And, as another Japanese customer came up to him, seeming to ask about more legitimate matters, I took my leave.
Later that night I got hungry, and I found myself craving skewers, so I took the short walk in the drizzling rain to the restaurant down the road. As I entered, my ears were greeted by the tunes of loud Japanese music, the clanking of glasses, and cheers from the other diners.
I sat down at the counter and started to order. Unlike other restaurants I’d been to, this eatery had a physical menu, making it easy to order by pointing at the dishes, while adding in the few Japanese phrases I had learned on Duolingo. A er ordering, the lady at the counter started talking to me through Google Translate, asking politely “Where are you from?”
“Hong Kong,” I replied through my phone, pointing at the text while saying “Sugoi (great)!” trying to tell her that I thought Hong Kong was a great place.
She laughed, and then asked me what I was doing in Shikoku. I gave her a brief response about my graduation trip, and eventually ended the conversation by talking about my positive impressions of Kochi. Even as I ate the freshly made skewers, I tried my best to be polite by giving positive comments about the food, which didn’t quite ll me up but was fantastic for the price.
As I paid the bill and le the restaurant to do laundry, I felt giddy and positive, just like how a child would feel a er going to the theme park. e fact that I could talk to these total strangers, interacting with those I normally wouldn’t, felt like such a gigantic personal leap. e social anxiety that often clouds my world faded away, making way for discussions I would have never expected to have with the locals I met.
It was this very mindset that carried me through freshers’ week, and my rst gruelling month in a new country and environment. Small talk, as di cult as it might sometimes feel, can lead you to a conversation with someone you’d never expect. Start the conversation by asking what someone loves and hates, their interests and ‘icks’, then continue from there. By connecting with others in discovering their quirks, the encounter may end up feeling like a reunion with an old friend, or a fruitful conversation where you discover something new about each other. ese conversations just might be the cause of a cherished core memory.
So, go out there and talk to others. It’ll be much easier once you start.
EDITED BY JESSICA-MAY COX AND SILVIA CASSANELLI
by ZOE BOCQUILLON
Feeling stuck or lost in the agony of London’s unsympathetic cold? I suggest you take it a step further. Push your agony. Tear down the boundaries of human consciousness. Get rebellious, nally, and read e Vegetarian by Han is book is unapologetically strange and, coincidentally, written by this year’s Nobel Prize winner in Literature. It follows the story of Yeo ng-hye, a young woman who becomes a veg etarian. Simple enough, or maybe not so. tediousness of everyday life and reality push es to the destruction of married life while meditating on sisterhood. Kang tears apart all notions of social relationships to reconstruct the bleak shad - ows of men’s sexu - al violence. Women’s bodies are dissected both sexually and emotionally, rendering an inti mate portrayal of what it might mean to be free and not to eat meat. Written from three perspectives, Kang grasps the reader from the start, making us barely able to breathe or think ra tionally. It is ritualistic, raw, and full of
by SAIRA AFZAL & Illustrated by FRANCESCA CORNO
e Barbican Music Library currently has a small yet incredibly nostalgic exhibition dedicated to the emo subculture that brought me back to simpler times. e exhibition prompted me to re ect on my own experience with emo, growing up as a kid ‘raised by the internet’ with My Chemical Romance ooding my headphones from the tender age of eleven. e emo subculture wasn’t solely about music or fashion. It represented an entire lifestyle dedicated to being alternative: rejecting posh, sti British culture while rebelling against the mainstream and the upper class.
Emo (or emotional hardcore) was founded in Washington D.C. in the mid1980s, with bands like Rites of Spring or Sunny Day Real Estate dominating the scene. Emo is, at its core, a fusion of soppy, confessional lyricism with the aggression and rage of punk music. Unsurprisingly, the exhibition showcases My Chemical Romance (MCR), Fall Out Boy, Paramore, Evanescence, Green Day, and many other bands who found fame around the 1990s-2000s. More unexpectedly, bands like Nirvana and System Of A Down made their way into the showcase, more speci cally a Kerrang! cutout of Nirvana, and System Of A Down’s ‘Toxicity’ on CD— demonstrating the blanket use (some would say bastardisation) of the word ‘emo’, commonly throwing grunge, nu-metal, and punk under the emo umbrella.
e exhibition has a wall plastered with grainy MySpace digital camera shots of emo teens, and contributions to the exhibition by their adult selves. e MCR T-shirts, side fringes, and heavy black eyeliner were in almost every single photo. One of my favourite photos on the wall depicts a group of teens huddled around a train table, circa 2008, all donning spiky haircuts with striking bleached highlights. What’s fascinating is that despite emo fashion having multiple staples, every emo teen depicted on the wall retained their own personal style, whether that’s merging emo fashion with scene-kid fashion (think stud belts, tutus, chequered patterns, and neon pinks and greens), DIY accessorising, or wearing their favourite band’s merch. Emo wasn’t all black and red; it was a burst of colour and style, merging together with goth and punk fashion to create its own unique voice in the post-hardcore, early 2000s social environment.
Much of the exhibition focuses on old tech. e mid-2000s were revolutionary for mobile phones, with devices such as the T-Mobile Sidekick and Motorola RAZR allowing teenagers to creatively engage with phones. e combination of new technologies for listening to music, browsing the internet, and chatting with friends coincided perfectly with the rise of the emo subculture. Tech wasn’t merely a medium of emo subculture but became a symbol of the subculture itself. Staying up to date with what your friends were listening to was even easier with the creation of cyberspaces like LiveJournal, MySpace, and Bebo. We may consider them digital fossils now, but they were the height of technology back then.
Most impressive were the signed setlist sheets and albums from Panic! At e Disco and MCR. It was surreal to see the signatures of bands that fundamentally shaped my youth. However, I would be lying if I said emo was dead. Just last month, Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance performed at the ‘When We Were Young’ Festival, with MCR performing the entirety of e Black Parade and Fall Out Boy playing across their entire discography. And next year, Panic! At e Disco will perform their debut album A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out at the same festival. Others at the festival next year include Avril Lavigne, Blink-182, and Weezer. Emo isn’t dead in my heart either—I was in the top 0.05% of Fall Out Boy listeners in 2023 according to Spotify.
by SYLVAIN CHAN
MildspoilersfortheCurseofStrahdcampaign.
How did William feel in his nal moments, as Frankenstein’s monster wrapped its frigid, leathery palms around his neck? His last memories: the enthralling amber of the creature’s eyes like glow-worms basking in the heat of a summer night, morphing into the haunting ame of a dying torch in a second.
Perhaps this may be too romantic for Shelley, though it’s not like gritty gore would’ve been much better. e tightening of a young boy’s trachea, his cervical spine crackling with the fury of a bon re… All that agony was lost to the narrative, overwritten by the smug vindication of the Monster and Elizabeth’s hysteric woes.
WouldWilliamhaveyelled?Beguncrying,beggingformercy? My own tear ducts shied away from the sight of the animosity before me. Powered solely on ght-or- ight adrenaline, my heart channelled a frantic yet reliable rhythm, grounding me just enough to dish out Eldritch Blast a er Eldritch Blast. Columns of water erupt from the swampy pool beneath the creature from where my palm is directed, the streams piercing through its twitching tendrils and drawing blood of pus-like viscosity.
An exasperated laugh from Percy at my side, whose dishevelled hair was braided by streaks of red pouring from a head wound sustained moments before. I smiled weakly. A moment of triumph between us, acknowledging each other’s relentlessness against the monster despite being the rst ones to extend caution towards ghting what we knew was once a thing of innocence.
Walter was his name, for the brief time he had been allowed a normal childhood. A bastard born of an a air between the owner of the mansion we found ourselves trapped in, and the peasant governess he employed. Scandalous, our party initially murmured. We had thrown around tabloid-worthy conspiracies about the wife in the family portrait we encountered on the ground oor—Elizabeth Dhurst, and her dispassionate gaze. ough as we ventured further and unearthed what lay beneath the manor’s oorboards, the pulsation of her tell-tale heart crescendoed: dried remnants of bloody rituals, entropic whispers behind our ears, the starved skeletal remains of two young children… Whether mortal desperation or demonic possession, something drove her to lash out at the byproduct of her loveless marriage, sealing her descent into the occult.
Now it towered before us: a slug-like foetus of staggering height. Heavy mounds of muscle cut through the pool it sat under as it crawled towards me with ape-like fury, restrained from exerting its full force only by its limp. Full muscles connected to forearms housed tumours throbbing beneath its sallow skin. Gaping mouths with jagged teeth grew along miscellaneous joints and crevices, revealing craters stained brown by their past victims. Writhing tentacles grew from cysts resembling branches of pollarded willow trees. Blood-shot eyeballs darting around at its ends, it kept track of the various projectiles being ung at it by the rest of my teammates.
Mounted atop all this was the deformed head of a baby. Velvet bruising strewn across its forehead, otherwise still pink and raw and newborn—a patchwork of every mother’s horror. No longer was he Walter, but a eshy chimaera suspended in Limbo by necrotic magic.
Yet as my outstretched arm began channelling another blast at its abdomen, a gust of green foam splattered out from one of its mouths, searing into the silk linen of my nightgown and down the skin of my arm, stray blotches in aming my eyes. Blinking once, my eyesight began to blur. Blinking twice, I watched a vague silhouette of a tendril slithering its way towards me. So maybe William would’ve tried to run.
Backing into the wall, I shrank away from the monster’s radius, guided by Percy’s shouts in my periphery. Heels tugged at the corners of my fraying dress: Who knew a Lucy Westernra-esque get-up would be un t for scu e? I grit my teeth at the unending sensation of hot wax branding my upper body, the Armour of Agathy’s spell cast earlier rendered completely null against the poison.
A reverberating shot of José’s pistol sounded from the opposite end of the dungeon - his metal bullet pierced through the sickly amber of one of the creature’s sclerae. What followed was a dissonant chorus of pain: the vague noise of a baby’s highpitched wail dis-harmonising with the screech of a dying animal. And the tightening of something slimy against my waist.
Hoisted in the air, my head rammed against the eroding ceiling concrete, then the sharp snapping of my knees as I was ung back down on the tiled oor. en the cold sting of its fangs impaling me, encasing me, silencing me. A wet warmth pools at my torso, and my vision turns black...
One is never really dead in the realm of the gothic. If vigour fails to compel your spirit to haunt humanity’s hubris, supernatural machinations envelop you in their frigid embrace, reanimating you as a nocturnal dweller. Corporeality is but another layer to be peeled from you bit by bit until you remain a husk of your former self with nothing to o er the inferno to toy with. I string these words knowing my reality would not grant me this mercy.
e iridescent stained glass of my escapism shattered in an instant, becoming the shrapnel that would cut my life short. As my heart sunk, its once vibrant beat coming to a quiet close, an unknown voice rang through my head:
EDITED BY ARUSHI ADITI AND WILLIAM GOLTZ
written by ANGELIKA SANTANIEOLLO
“What is your favourite music genre?” is an all-time question from music listeners. Undeniably, it is a source of con ict between music genres and our answers vary depending on how we feel, or rather want to feel. Instead, Berlioz renders our answers simple in his debut album Open is Wall. A pioneer of ‘soultronic’ or ‘indie jazz’, Berlioz does not seek to resonate with a particular human experience, but a desire to blend the senses through a fusion of music genres.
It is di cult to de ne Berlioz’s musical style, as he enmeshes sounds of jazz and house, alongside insertions of a so R&B beat. e album opens with the vibrancy of “Ascension” but pushes the boundaries of music composition in later tracks (“Hot Slow”, “Ode To Rahsaan”, and “Jocelyn’s Dance”). e instrumental focus encourages self-re ection and thought in listeners, welcoming solitude. Berlioz decides to close the album with an antithetical track to “Ascension” - “Outro” - contrasting with the motifs of descension in the previous tracks, such as “Free Fall”, or the dark, sombre ambiguity of “Indigo Dream”. e track is entirely instrumental, allowing listeners to decide what an “ascension” means to them.
Indeed, human experience and choice are central to Open is Wall, most evident in the use of soothing, reassuring human voices. Taking the eponymous track “Open is Wall”, we hear an empowered voice repeating the phrase “if I allow it to happen,” which is daunting, yet calming in quality. Similarly, the speaker in “Peace” possesses a sense of acceptance in the fact that they “don’t feel desperation, the world is pretty much the way it is.” What emerges is a pattern of monosyllabic lyrics that embody the aural experience of reaching a level of peace with oneself.
When it comes to Berlioz, it is, according to Spotify, as “if Matisse made house music.” e album artwork is indisputably reminiscent of Matisse’s fauvist artwork; viewers see simpli ed human gures enveloped by a series of abstract brush marks, echoing the simultaneously simpli ed and abstract aural experience the album generates. Perhaps the Fauvist artwork is a nuanced representation of the album: Open is Wall is rebellious and aurally colourful in its blend of di erent components of jazz and house music.
Open is Wall embodies synaesthesia, shaping listeners’ experience of music through visual and aural elements. Berlioz opens the possibility of championing a blend of dichotomous styles, as opposed to a single genre. What listeners are le with is not a burning desire to go to jazz or house music nights, but instead, the ambiguous, understated sensation that ‘something will happen’.
written by ALISON ENRIGHT & illustrated by JESSICA CHAN
Shaun of the Dead gave me life.
e rst time I saw Shaun of the Dead was from my mother’s womb. Repeated watches have solidi ed its greatness and its horror. Best friends Shaun and Ed battle armies of numb-skulled zombies while navigating an even scarier prospect—that Ed is holding Shaun back from living a full life. A friendship is tested.
Skillful use of dramatic irony in the rst half of the lm , displays this poignantly. Whether it’s scenes of zombies stumbling past Shaun getting a Cornetto or Ed ghting o zombies in video games, neither is connected enough to life to see what’s going on around them.
is Halloween, I can’t think of anything spookier than getting jump-scared by the undead and questioning whether I’m putting enough e ort into life. But nally, to truly convey the horror of this lm, I need to take you back to 30 December 2005. My own mother sat down and chose to watch this Edgar Wright Masterpiece. Seeing gruesome zombies or the prospect of living a numb, disconnected life, the horror it instilled in her sent her into labor.
I was born that day from the mind of Edgar Wright. From the depiction of lacklustre living turned hearty zombie attacks, my mother found the energy to undergo labor.
is lm ignites pain. is lm made me crawl out of my mother’s womb. is lm brought me life.
Watch it this Halloween, and you could end up giving birth. What’s scarier than that?
written by WILLIAM GOLTZ
Celebrating its fourth edition with an expanded lineup featuring 90 artists across 13 local venues, Pitchfork Music Festival’s triumphant return to London rmly cemented its growing reputation as one of the capital’s most exciting musical events. Known for showcasing a diverse array of upand-coming artists across a heady mix of genres, Pitchfork Fest has come to provide a cool American riposte to a British festival scene that appears increasingly obsessed with legacy acts and online ticketing bullshit. Its agship ‘Dalston Takeover’ event, involving 25 bands across six venues in East London in one night remains one of the best tickets of the year and an obvious recommendation to anyone hoping to discover new music in London. Here is the best of what I saw:
My arriving late to Boston indie-rockers Horse Jumper of Love’s set was undeniably a mistake. Touring Europe on the back of their brooding return to shoegaze ‘Disaster Trick’, their distinctive brand of fuzzy melancholy was perhaps more haunting live than on record. While I could console myself with the knowledge that I had seen them once before, walking into EartH Hall for the nal chords of their recent single "Snow Angel" forced me to curse myself and know what I had missed. I can only hope they’ll be back soon.
Making my way upstairs to the auditorium-style EartH eatre for New York art-pop darlings Chanel Beads’ set was admittedly pretty surreal. Watching the crowd come together in this carefully restored Art Deco movie theatre felt more than a bit like attending an assembly in a ctional high school for teenage Letterboxed contributors. Mercifully, however, the music undeniably lived up to the imperious coolness of its audience. e much-hyped solo project of Minnesota-born songwriter and producer Shane Lavers, Chanel Beads is one of those rare scene bands that actually be described as indescribable. Mixing slap bass, synths and digitised utes should never sound as good as this. Crowds should not normally sing along to a text-to-speech sample of the phrase ‘police scanner’. Listen to "Ef" right now.
It was kind of a surprise that I ended up front row at the Shacklewell arms for Rocket’s set. As the crowd was repeatedly called to move further towards the stage to make space for new arrivals, it seemed like I was the only one who did not know about them. I certainly do now. Pulling heavily from 90s shoegaze and power-pop with chunky guitars and soaring vocals, they are the kind of band that could be written o as derivative if only their songs were not so compelling. "Normal to me" is a song that feels like it’s existed far far longer than it has. I want to gut an old coming-of-age movie and set it again to Rocket songs.
written by VANESSA HUANG & illustrated by JESSICA CHAN
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to see the world through someone else’s eyes? Nickel Boys might be as close as we can get, with director RaMell Ross shooting in rst-person POV and bringing a profound empathy to the act of bearing witness. Elwood (Ethan Herisse) is a young Black boy with a bright future: living in the Jim Crow-era South, his stellar academics have earned him a spot at community college, seemingly poised to break barriers. But while he’s hitchhiking there, the police stop him in a stolen car, upending his life as he gets sent to a reform school.
Based on Colson Whitehead’s novel, this is a story rooted in the harrowing history of the Dozier School for Boys, which closed only in 2011. While Elwood arrives optimistic, he’s quickly disabused of that hope in the face of unrelenting violence. But Ross steers us away from the spectacle of su ering and instead towards a devastating erosion of hope, a slow, haunting hardening of the soul. Sometimes, that’s also just the way we remember things: the most painful moments packaged away, fragmented crumbs emerging from the mundanity.
In every frame, Nickel Boys is a masterclass in intimacy. e gentle hands of a grandmother slicing a cake. e eeting glances we catch of ourselves in the mirror. In a seamless marriage of form and function, the lm swings for the fences and hits a home run.
Nightbitch
Invoking a similar rage to Björn L Runge’s e Wife (2017), Nightbitch quite literally makes motherhood a bitch. Amy Adams is our nameless Mother, an artist-turned-stay-at-home-mother with a young son and maddeningly oblivious husband in tow. With Husband being weaponised incompetence personi ed, Mother is condemned to a fate of waking up, making breakfast, taking her son to playgroup, running errands, cooking dinner, cleaning up, then going to bed. Again and again and again, with no relief in sight. It’s so infuriating one could scream. In Mother’s case, she starts turning into a dog.
Writer and director Marielle Heller’s vision succeeds in its broad strokes, capturing the duality women face to be both sel ess and endlessly capable. Daring, too, is the idea that a woman can resent motherhood while deeply loving her child when any ounce of discontent is too easily maligned as bad mothering.
Films about women are o en assigned (by others) the lo y ambition of speaking to all of womanhood. Nightbitch doesn’t do that, and I don’t think it should. And while it is weighed down by a rather muted ending, it o ers a primal sense of catharsis that is both provocative and abrasive, confronting the animalistic side of a mother’s rage.
Simona Dei a and NOJO:
Simona Dei a and NOJO:
Stepping out of the comfort zone
Stepping out of the comfort zone
From someone, somewhere, I read this: “You all have a little bit of ‘I want to save the world’ in you. at’s why you’re here, in college.” Many of us came to LSE with the genuine desire to make a positive impact on the world. Yet, as we move along, the certainty we once felt o en gives way to doubt, leaving us to puzzle over how our futures will unfold and where we’ll nd ourselves in the next ten years or so. While there may never be de nitive answers to these questions, what makes our community truly valuable is the presence of individuals who have embraced challenges, built successful careers around their passions, and are now sharing their stories to inspire the next generation. Hoping to shed more light on how LSE may just be the start for everything, I sat down for a talk with Simona Dei a, LSE alumna and founder of NOJO.
Simona studied Management at LSE a decade ago and she kicked o our interview by speaking fondly about the course’s insightful teaching. “It was a very strong programme,” she said to me. “Many concepts I learned then are still relevant today. We studied numerous case studies, and even now, I o en go, ‘Oh! So this is what they meant by that!’. I truly love my time at LSE.” However, for Simona, her journey was uniquely challenging as she got pregnant in her third year, with a due date two months short of the summer exams. “I didn’t know what to do and the professors didn’t know what to do, but the support from my friends was phenomenal. ey helped me out wholeheartedly even though it was never their problem to begin with. ey would bring me class notes and revision notes, just generally making sure I had everything I needed during the exam period.”
Re ecting on her transition to the professional world, Simona noted, “LSE did a good job of showing career paths in consulting and banking. I got a job at Bank of America a er graduation, even with a newborn. Back then, it felt like these were the only options, and I never questioned it—I was set on going into banking.” us, while preparing for this interview, I found myself wondering what inspired Simona to leave a stable, well-paid career in banking to start her own business. In response, she shared that her time in banking made her aware of the critical need for a balanced diet—something that was o en overlooked in the corporate environment. “When I was still in banking, I was in charge of the lunch run and noticed that almost every day people were having burgers or noodles, but [these people] worked 20 hours a week. A burger can give you calories but it doesn’t nurture your body. One colleague of mine passed away due to tiredness, lack of sleep, and lack of nutrition,” Simona recalled, re ecting on a distressing incident that le her pondering what di erence she could make.
“What am I doing with my life? Now that I have a child, I feel a big wave of responsibility. I needed to show him an example of someone who dares to follow their passion. For me, my child was my strongest drive. I wanted to be better for him.”
A er realising just how deeply nutrition impacts both physical and mental health—and how essential it is to build a balanced life—Simona founded NOJO, a condiment business that provides sauce recipes in one single bottle to make home-cooked meals more e ortless and fuels you with all the right energy. For Simona, the initial struggle was exacerbated since she was not only a female entrepreneur in a still-male-dominated industry, she was a single mom in a system that doesn’t work in favour of them. “It was especially intimidating. I started going to these
business events to pitch my ideas, bringing my baby along, and having to breastfeed him in between because I had no daycare options. As a rst-generation immigrant, I didn’t have my parents around for support either.”
I asked Simona about the honest challenges that come with running a start-up, and she didn’t hold back. “Everybody starts di erent and it depends massively on the resources you have to start with. e most challenging aspect for me is that I was a sole founder. is is why I advise many to get a co-founder as early as possible: it makes the journey so much easier along the way. Otherwise, the process can be quite isolating at times. It took me ten years to get the team that I have now. Also, people o en glamourised running a business and think that they can work on their own hours, but actually, this is going to be your life. ere will be no hours, just a 24/7 shi . It’s a lifestyle rather than a job because you can’t put your business on hold. It doesn’t stop, and it doesn’t sleep. Ensure you have a solid support system, ideally with friends and family who understand your goals and fully back your decisions. Because very o en you will be absent and will need to do a whole check up of your life to see if you’re ready to take up a business or not.”
Like everything built from scratch, it truly takes a small village of people, along with an ocean of e ort, commitment, and sacri ce to get the business running. “One team member with a bad attitude can kill the whole vibe of the company. I look for people who genuinely want to make a di erence, challenge the category, who have a business mindset, and are passionate about their work.” Simona talked about not only building a team, but a community that is reliable and exible enough. Because for her, ‘work-life balance’ might just be the most toxic concept out there. “All parents at NOJO have pick-up windows. is is when they can go and pick up their kids, bring them home, feed them, and work later in their free time. Still, it’s not ideal because it doesn’t allow enough time for rest, and unfortunately, there’s no perfect solution to it. e minute you kick o your business, you lose the balance. If you’re expecting to balance being a parent and a business owner, you’re going to end up miserable.”
“Our system needs more actions than noises because I continue to feel shocked, even a er 10 years, by how little equality women have and how they are represented in the industry. ere are still only 5% of businesses founded by women. When I was pitching to investors back in the day, I didn’t pitch to a single woman out of over 100 investors I met. I was uncomfortable mentioning that I’m a mom as it immediately put me in a position where people thought, ‘She
has no time to run a company’. It irritated me, so now I start to be vocal about [motherhood in business].”
Gender equality in entrepreneurship and discovering the experiences of women in various industries fascinate Simona, and she brie y shared with me her plan to set up a podcast called ‘Do Not Disturb’. “ ere are many examples of women stepping down as CEOs a er having children. How many athletes stop competing a er giving birth? I want to explore the reasons behind this [through the podcast]. Why do they step down? Is it not possible to do both? Is it a matter of hormones? I believe there should be equity instead of equality. Our rights should be designed to reect the unique experiences we have.”
When Simona became part of the Buy Women Bult initiative and the B Corps movement, she joined a supportive network for female entrepreneurs and female-owned businesses that wasn’t as present as when she started NOJO years ago. “We once did a giant window display on Whole Foods Market at Kensington High Street where we showcased photos of female founders, each accompanied by notes on their journeys and businesses. People could scan the QR codes and understand what is done behind the scenes. I think that’s what everyone needs—a way to connect with these stories. When women pass by on a bus or while shopping, they can look at these female business owners and think, ‘ at could be me. I could be next to have my story told.’”
e years between eighteen and twenty-one can feel like a blur. We might have done so much, gone so far, yet still nd the seventeen-year-old version of ourselves staring back. It’s a confusing time—when we’re no longer a child, but not fully an adult either. ere are big decisions to make, yet at times, even those feel insigni cant. “ is is the best time of your life,” they say, but there we are, lying in bed, wondering if we’re ever enough and loveable. We’re swept into a constant cycle of uncertainty, missed opportunities, and all the potential paths to take. For that, we will have to eventually leave a lot behind to pursue our passions. So, as our conversation drew to a close, I asked Simona for her advice to young, aspiring entrepreneurs and current or graduating LSE students about stepping out of their comfort zones, to which she said, “Life is short. It goes faster than you think. Take risks and don’t be afraid to fail. Every failure is a learning opportunity—I wish I had failed more. Time is your most precious currency. Whatever you do, aim to do something good.”
Finally, to end with another saying I read from someone, somewhere: “Don’t borrow grief from the future, nor rob it of happiness.” You’re going to be just ne.