Volume 6, Issue 6

EDITORIALLY INDEPENDENT. EST. 2010 Volume 6 Issue 4 23rd March 2016

theheythroplion.co.uk

thelion@heythrop.ac.uk

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2016 Election Special - TAKE TWO

Meet the Candidates p. 3

The four general officer candidates and RON give us some details about why we should vote for them.

Europe p. 5

Ben Mercer returns with a comment article on Europe and the EU.

Lion

The

RON Returns for General Officer Elections Katt Johnson Editor-In-Chief

The nominations for the general officers for Heythrop Student’s union 2016/17 have been announced and voting has commenced as of 11PM Tuesday 22nd March. Eligible voters have received their ballot papers through their university emails and can vote for the four candidates on an individual basis. Each candidate stands against RON, with the potential for all four to be on the Union next year, none, or a number in between. Voting closes on April 10th and the results will be announced on April 11th. For a full rundown of the candidates and their views, and information on who RON:-

continued p.2

Discover London p. 10

[THIS] Magazine gets Shortlisted for National Award

Every fancy risking the happiness of your tastebuds and trying new alcohol brewed by people who aren’t experts? If ‘yes’ then this issue’s discover London has some fab bars for you to get your fix of craft brews.

Not the Shower p. 11

Barcol’s three-part poem has finished and now there’s other people’s things here. Also a short story.

Katt Johnson Editor-In-Chief

The Student Publication Association runs annual awards for the best student publications across the nation.

A nomination was submitted for Best Design for a Magazine for [THIS], our sister magazine, which was promptly shortlisted along with fourteen other publications. For those unaware, the Heythrop Lion newspaper moved online for the academic year of 2015/16 whilst the same student-led team

brought out a hard-copy magazine called [THIS]. So far three issues of the magazine have been printed, and it will appear again next year. The online format newspaper is currently running its fourth issue and can be found directly on ISSUU - an online publication site - or through Facebook.com/theheythroplion (which most readers will be familiar with having followed the link to get here already). The new magazine brought with it a fresh look and a plethora of

change - which the team felt worthy of submitting for nomination considering no one on board has any notion of a qualification in journalism or design.

The SPA is a national organisation that represents student publications across the UK. They support student journalism through events, training and online presence. The awards for the SPA are incorporated into a two day event in early April. This conference offers workshops, talks

and debates geared towards student journalists. Speakers for 2016 include Richard Brooks, VP of Union Development for NUS; Bill Coles, advertised as a ‘reformed’ tabloid journalist; and David Levesley, a Sky News journalist, amongst others. The Lion team joined the SPA earlier this year, and the society will continue to have opportunities such as the #SPANC16 event open to them during their publication. If you feel like getting involved, let us know.

Editor-In-Chief Katherine Johnson katherine.johnson@heythropcollege.ac.uk

Managing Editor Katie Milne katie.milne@heythropcollege.ac.uk

News Editor Jenny Moran jenny.moran@heythropcollege.ac.uk

Web Editor Terrence SIbley terrence.sibley@heythropcollege.ac.uk

Editors-at-Large Ben Mercer Catherine Squibb Oscar Yuill thelion@heythrop.ac.uk

AM IAL TE

Megan Skingsley megan.skingsley@yahoo.com

EDITOR

Editor-in-Chief

R.O.N - A VIABLE OPTION Jenny Moran News Editor

RON, Re Open Nominations, is a voting option for every single position within the elections. If you are not happy with a candidate for any reason; if you do not think they could do the job to the highest standard or you think they are making empty promises DO NOT VOTE FOR THEM. VOTE RON. If RON wins any position then that position will have another election.

This means new nominations will be accepted and the election process will be repeated for that role.

Basically, RON is the ‘None of the Above’ option for voting, and is not an option that should be dismissed.

RON is a viable option. Do not vote for a candidate just because they are the only candidate running for

that role; you do not have to accept a substandard candidate because you feel like there is no other option…

There is. RON! For example, having a terrible President would genuinely effect the last year at Heythrop, so why should you settle? Re Opening Nominations would be better than a candidate who isn’t going to do anything, doesn’t represent what you want or at the end of the day is highly likely to do a horrendous job.

Just because RON isn’t at hustings doesn’t mean it isn’t a real option.

Last year, RON won against the Academic Affairs Officer candidate, and therefore a second election was held, ending with the election of our current Academic Affairs Officer who was clearly the right man for the job! RON doesn’t necessarily mean you will end up with no

WANT TO WRITE FOR THE LION? SEND YOUR ARTICLES TO: megan.skingsley@yahoo.com

one for the role, it could mean the best candidate will step forward.

If nothing else, think of it like this: RON will not bombard you with facebook requests to like a RON4HSU facebook page that you really really don’t want to like because you really don’t want them to get elected but feel you should like anyway. RON will not make you read 2 sides of A4 with tiny writing which you are not interested in and is full of absolute drivel. RON will not promise you the same old boring policies that are promised every single year and are not fulfilled. RON is pragmatic.

RON will keep all of their promises without fail. RON will not, and cannot, let you down in any way.

RON cannot do a bad job… And if all this sounds better than the candidates we have, then VOTE RON.

WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH | THE LION

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MEET THE CANDIDATES EXEC

STEFAN BARRATT

SATCHI MAHENDRAN

JENNIFER WHITE

LOUISE WOODS

RON

(I was debating whether to recycle anything from my previous VPA campaigning but that didn’t work!

Let me try again…)

I’m running for the exec again because I’ve had such a great time doing it this year and feel that I have contributed well. My experience as Academic Affairs officer will allow me to help Maawia as it will be useful to have someone with experience in the academic side of the Union if advice is needed. I feel that the new structure will allow me to contribute in a more varied way, I haven’t had much of a chance to contribute to events or welfare this year due to the amount I have had to take on with Academic Affairs. This time I hope to have more of a role in these aspects of the Union and try to get Campaigns up and running again, looking to reintroduce RAG week and get students involved in charity runs and events such as the Movember 5k that I took part in last year.

I have also set up the Cricket Society this term (please get in touch if you would like to play) and so have some experience in societies and activities.

I am running to be general executive officer because I believe that in our last year especially, and with perhaps only a small union that what’s needed is organisation. And that’s what I’ll bring to the roll: organisation, reliability, consistency. Maybe not the most exciting attributes of a union officer but very necessary in a union like ours. So, I’m running on a platform of getting things done. I will be flexible as a union officer and willing to help in any areas that are needed. Although my skills may not be best suited to events and creative activities if help is needed in those areas I will do my best. I can’t promise to excel in everything I do but I can promise to do anything I’m asked to do competently and to work as part of a team (albeit a small one) to make our last year a good one.

During my time studying at Heythrop I have met so many absolutely wonderful people. I would like to be able to maintain the community that we are and, hopefully, make the last year one to be proud of. That is why I am running for this position.

Hello! You may know me from previous publications such as: The Previous Issue of The Lion Newspaper in which I was running for President and VPA. I just wasn’t ready to give up on practising my awesome campaigning skills, so here I am. I can do that, because I am always an option.

Hello! I am Stefan Barratt, which you probably know seeing that my name is (presumably) written on top of this column. This year I have had the pleasure and honour of representing you as HSU Vice-President yet I am left with a sense of desire and ability to do more for you/us students. Therefoere, I ran for the position of Vice President Academic in the past election, but I was unsuccessful (by only 1 vote). And that’s ok. However, I really wish to still be involved in the HSU next year and thus I immediately thought of running for the newly-shaped Exec role.

YOU JUST CAN’T GET RID OF ME! (I mean, you can, but please don’t).

I would be very grateful if I could prolong my services to the student body in any way that the HSU requires next year. Nonetheless, I believe the main areas in which I believe I can be more helpful are Publicity and Welfare. I have been involved in the former this year, as I have been required to provide posters for a period of about three months. The latter has not been an area in which I have perhaps been directly involved with yet, however, I would love to rise up to the challenge by continuing the support on offer to students and the organisation of Welfare events Thank you for reading.

The experience I have to offer I hope will be beneficial to the Union and to the student experience as a whole as the general officer roles mean we need people to be as versatile as possible and I feel that I have developed the skills this year to be a flexible and productive member of the Union. I hope that we can continue and develop the great work that has been done this year and give the student body the best experience possible in this final year.

I am not really running with a specific role in mind, however in the absence of an LGBT+ officer and welfare officers I do think it is important that issues of representation and welfare are not neglected.

In light of this these are areas in which I would like to focus my attention on if asked to take fulfil a specific role. I am a member of the LGBT+ society and attend the equality forum so I think I am an appropriate candidate to take responsibility for representation and welfare.

So, if I am elected as an Executive Officer I believe I would contribute well to our union as a helpful and hard working part of it.

My main area of concern is likely to be in roles such as events and welfare as I feel these two go hand in hand as being some of the most important parts of the student experience. However I also feel that I am quite fortunate to be applying at a time when the executive role covers so many different areas as it allows me to improve my skills across the board as well as being able to represent the student body in as many different ways as possible.

With our final year seeming so unknown and chaotic I think this is a crucial moment for our HSU to be the best it can be in terms of administration and communication.

Roles such as this I have previously found enjoyable as it gives me the chance work together as a part of a team dedicated to providing a good experience for all. Our team may be small but I believe that is a reason to make us great. As a college we make a big impact in the academic and religious communities and I think that our union should too.

See, I’m reliable like that. I might be more reliable than any of the other people on this page. If you agree, VOTE FOR ME! Seriously, VOTE RON if you’d be unhappy with any one of these people being on the union next year. If you don’t like what they have to offer, if they’re just a big mouth spewing unfounded garbage, if you realise you’ve only seen RON campaign posters around (fabulous ones, might I add), then VOTE RON.

I’m a firm believer that you deserve the best union possible. You deserve something other than second best. Namely, first best. If that’s not a thing, well, you’re not voting for my wit and charm and the beautiful people called RON (ahem, see above), anyway. A vote for RON is a vote to re-open nominations and to find people that wont let you down.

Some people might worry that they have no choice but these people but there is: ME! I’m been here through every election, I’m always here for you and here as the way to achieve the greatest union that you deserve.

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THURSDAY 3RD MARCH | THE LION

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WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH | THE LION

COMMENT? Ben Mercer Editor-at-Large

The other day, March 8th, I was put in the unenviable position of having to decide between shedding tears, spraying vomit or laughing like a loon.

I wish I could say I remember which I opted for. It may have been all three. But such is the pungency of the rubbish tip that is the debate over our membership of Europe: I was driven to drink to forget it.

I grant that this might seem a little extreme. Perhaps it is. But consider this: those of us who find happiness in the dialectic, and for whom national and international politics are as Prozac acting against the crushingly dull and empty and lonely nonevents of daily life; we were told on February 20th, when David Cameron announced the date of the referendum on our membership of the European Union, that we would face one hundred and twenty-four days – one hundred and twenty-four! – during which the focus would be on Europe, Europe and nothing but Europe.

That is a binge of Scottish proportions. But alright, we said; we don’t have much of a choice, so let’s give it a go. It’ll become tiresome in the end but perhaps it’ll be a happy hearth until the fire burns out.

And then, yesterday, just twentyfive days in and with nearly a hundred to go, I sat down and listened to a nameless, faceless, spineless MP-bot from the South East explain to me that the problem – the problem – with Douglas Carswell (the wonkyfaced ex-Tory pro-outer UKIP rebel) is that he is too principled.

C h r i s t .

Aside from the fact that the only principle with which Mr. Carswell is concerned is his own best interests, and aside from the MP-bot claiming to be less principled than Mr. Carswell, and aside from the fact that it seemed to think having no principles to be a character trait and a political position worth boasting about – this is the standard of the ‘debate’ in which we are being forced to take part. This drivel, this pointless posturing, this inanity; this brain-dead far-

The Facile Debate

cical exchange of bitter nothings is the way we treat what should be the most important political question of the modern era.

Then there is the additional pain of the pseudo-intellectual’s bruised ego, of the fool who becomes self-aware. How could we ever have believed it would be any different?

The point was proven before yesterday to those with the wit to see it. I observed the reaction to Boris Johnson’s decision to lead Leave and screamed denial.

This is a man whose opening salvo in the House of Commons, once a temple of the dialectic but one long bereft of dignity, was comprised of a bid to leave the EU in order to negotiate a better place within it. This is a man who, when quizzed by Andrew Marr, either did not know or was unable to articulate the difference between Europe the free-trade zone, Europe the political union and Europe the continent. And this is a man who, we are told, will do anything to become the next Prime Minister, a man of whom the media implies we should be sceptical, and a man who can suck all intelligence from the galaxy because a cynical media treats him seriously. “Surely it’s a blip,” I told myself. Surely? Surely it is not.

But the damp was spread before that, too. The rot set in and the mold grew before Boris, before Blair; the contagion took hold first, I think, in the Labour Party with Neil Kinnock’s desperate attempt to counter honest evil with electable dishonesty (or ‘liberalism’ to put it another way.) He failed but the strategy was chosen and developed and the winds were judged to be arbiters of success.

Even once-serious people schooled in a better age, people like John McDonnell and Jeremy Corbyn, people actively involved in the last referendum and who campaigned for Out under the leadership of Tony Benn, have become pale reflections; the body bags of conviction politicians. Tony Benn himself once claimed to recognise two distinct types of politician: one, the signpost and conveyor of direction, and another, the weathervane that takes its direction from the

winds. One of the reasons for the widespread outrage and disdain that has met Corbyn and Mcdonnell’s pronouncements on other issues is, I think, that there is, to tweak Ann Widdecombe’s line on Michael Howard, something of the signpost about them. For the most part, modern politics is made and done by weathervanes.

But they join the rest on Europe.

And, listening to John McDonnell on Question Time a week or so ago, I was inclined first to pity a man unused to the dirty business of saying what is politically sensible and then to anger against a man who clearly still has opinions and is simply lying about them. One can give the Cameron type the benefit of the doubt: they are weathervanes by nature, honestly dishonest and genuinely devoid of concern for anything but expediency. It’s an undignified business, politics; but there is something more outrageous about those who hide conviction opposed to those who have none.

There are those who credit the embattled Labour leadership with taking a tactically silent line on Europe. Let the Tories dominate the headlines with their fratricide and their bickering, go about consolidating your position whilst the crows murder elsewhere. And perhaps they’re right. But Jeremy Corbyn has spoken on Europe.

He’s due to do so again. And, for a man capable of drawing and motivating crowds of thousands, his reticence is startling and born, one has to suspect, of the discomfort of a novice liar.

This is the first I have written on Europe. I had hoped to make it a serious consideration of the substantive points that have not been properly discussed, and, as is my inclination, to attempt to codify a reason for voting to leave. I may yet do so; it is a discussion worth having. The fall of Shengen, the loss of sovereignty to the ever closer union mandated by treaty, the enforcing of austerity, the merits (or otherwise) of free movement, the Eastward expansion, the rape of Greece and the certain failure of an economic union that, without serious reform, will see France fall to the same fate

adamproctor

within our lifetimes; these are all deserving of our attention.

But I cannot summon the temper required to do it justice, utterly disenchanted as I am with the nonsense we are audience to.

Speaking truth to power remains amongst the most noble endeavours the writer can make, but is it too much to ask that power occasionally speaks truths to us, too?

Apparently. So it is that we are preoccupied with questions of personality, with what The Sun thinks the Queen thinks about foreigners, with who is scaring who and how, with the relentless

pursuit of thunderous applause that no one has the energy, the time or the inclination to give.

I had hoped to make this an argument. But the signposts have all been torn up, it seems. We don’t do beacons anymore; we have no need of lighthouses because the ships are all gone or going nowhere. An argument? No. What’s the point.

This is a lament for something I feel I know, or used to, like an old friend, yet something I am not old enough to remember.

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WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH | THE LION

COMMENT? Fire, Fire, Fire

Oscar Yuill Editor-at-Large

I’m aware that The Lion published pieces on speech before, but I obliged to write another

has free feel one.

In the last two years, up to the present, students and ‘progressive’ movements have attempted to ‘topple’ (as if it were Saddam Hussein) a rather boring statue in a campaign bombastic and (trigger warning) spastic enough to have posed a serious annoyance to Hitler himself.

In 2014 the National Union of Students (NUS)—the very union of which you, dear reader, are an automatic member— failed to condemn ISIS on the grounds that it would be ‘Islamophobic’. (Another unfortunate development: after all, why engage with one’s intellectual opponent if they are, ipso facto, suffering from a phobia?)

More recently, a student at Oxbridge attempted to ban Ovid’s Metamorphosis from the literature syllabus because it depicts rape. There have been many criticisms of this, but there is one I can think of that hasn’t yet been raised: one would think a student so attentive to the rape-content of various works of literature might not be so affronted by its depiction after all.

And then, even more recently, and in a show of irony so farci-

cal it surely demands some degree of faith to believe it, feminists have condemned Germaine Greer for being transphobic, and the LGBT community have condemned Peter Tatchell for being every ‘phobe’ and ‘-cist’ you can imagine. Peter Tatchell. The man who quite literally has incurred brain damage from the vicious beatings in his fights against racism, homophobia, transphobia and totalitarianism.

Stepping out of the safe space of the modern Conformist Confectionery—I mean university— who can forget the price Paris has had to pay for its values in both January and November?

Take the former: Islamist gunmen storm the offices of a satirical newspaper and slaughter twelve innocent people while shouting ‘we have avenged the prophet Muhammad’. Immediately almost every major news publication in the western world and almost every journalist come out and say, in characteristically vague cowardice, that the cartoonists somehow had it coming—that Charlie Hebdo was ‘racist’ and ‘Islamophobic’.

Heythrop, if I remember correctly, held a debate about whether the attacks were in anyway justified, and I was rather sickened and disgusted to learn that the motion that they should not have been published prevailed.

This, from a college situated two doors down from John Stuart Mill’s house. For what it’s worth,

vaunted reader, Charlie Hebdo have always been, and remain, an anti-racist, pro-free speech publication who have, over the years, satirized Jews, Christians and Marine le Pen in equal measure.

And then, in November, as the world watched the historic centre of European culture ravaged by fresh attacks in three separate locations—the equivalents, by the way, of attacks as central as Tottenham Court Road and Holborn—sensible people prepared themselves for the usual torrent of anti-west, white-guilt, Islamophobic blame-mongering.

We were told it was France’s fault; of course they had it coming to them; Paris was a ghetto and that’s the reason why— etc., etc., and, once again, the people who could see that if the blame lay anywhere it was in the doctrines of radical Islam and our failure to confront them, had to face fresh accusations of hatred and xenophobia.

I could fill this article with truly tiresome quantities of this new regressive idiocy. But I won’t.

There’s not much point, is there, in listing as many examples as possible, because the people responsible know them already and they don’t care. The unsettling thing is that I have no doubt that the no-platformers and the screaming bleeding hearts and the schizophrenic wordpolice and the statue topplers and the putrid pubclications really do have good intentions.

Neither are some of their aims particularly ignoble. The protection of minorities against large, powerful majorities has always been a necessary struggle. The problem with how it is now being conducted, is that it has given rise to an equally virulent counter-movement. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Trump now looks set to be the Republican nominee. The ineptitude of the modern left—whatever ‘left’ even means anymore—in rallying round a cohesive ideological centre has left the gap wide open for centre-right ideologues to sweep in and claim that they are the defenders of free speech.

universities across Europe and North America, you had better be prepared for the reaction. I contend that the only sensible attitude towards this mess is the same attitude of the intellectual forbears that we in the west have the privilege of having inherited: Montaigne, Voltaire, Jefferson, Mill, Zola, Orwell…Hitchens.

It is a principle of society that where one voice grows stronger and more aggressive, the opposing voice grows quieter, certainly—but infinitely more resentful.

We are a philosophy and theology college. I need only remind you of Nietzsche’s ressentiment.

And so, as doctors prescribe opiates for the terminally ill, my recommendation for you, dearest reader, is to treat the tongue and the pen with a little more reverence and a trifle more gall and if you can’t abide the consequences, do us all a favour and lodge it in your jugular.

We now have mainstream articles, for example, in which transgenderism is placed between ‘quotation marks’ because the author thinks it’s somehow actually, really progressive to question its very existence (it’s not)—as opposed to the regressive left, who disallow any and all discussion about transgenderism full stop.

Well, now that the regressive left has become so utterly entrenched, having gnawed their way into the rotten woodwork of

It is the attitude, indeed the philosophy, of countering bad ideas wherever and whenever one finds them. It is the ability to embrace the paradoxes and conflicts and multitudes, not just of the political and social arena, but the battlefield that is—or should be—one’s own mind.

It is oft-quoted, I grant, but who ever said the job of the free thinker might not involve commitment to the same fights, the same causes, the same arguments and the same accusations over and over? So I will quote it again: ‘If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.’

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WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH| THE LION

Terry Sibley Web Editor

MMA: Learning as a Karateka

Above all things, I learned to keep my training honest. The ego is an insidious thing which will always try to cushion any failings. It is very easy to rationalise any bad habit, mistake, dumb move and so on, until you get to a point where you aren’t really as good as you think you are.

I recently spent four months training like an MMA fighter at London Shootfighters, and let me tell you, they keep you honest when you’re sparring. Maybe it’s an obvious point but hard sparring really shows you what’s working and what isn’t. I believe that Karate today can learn a lot from the youngest incarnation of the oldest sport in the world.

The event that had the biggest impact on me was a particular sparring session. I had only done two previously, so I was still unsure of the etiquette. The first session I was told, after asking, to go 100%, which I did not do. I presume that the coach guessed wouldn’t, after having seen my conservative BJJ style. I do find it difficult to let go sometimes, and find myself being overly cerebral.

Anyway, on the day of this particular sparring session I was having an off day for various reasons, but I elected to spar regardless. My rationale was that this would be a good way to learn my weaknesses, bad habits, and such, little did I know that they would be communicated to me very clearly. Unfortunately it was not communicated to me that my opponent would be going in hard this time. Regardless I put up a brave but losing fight in the first round. One of my major failings that day was leaning in with punches, being overly fixated on making contact (perhaps a

habit from point fighting), which my opponent cleverly capitalised on by stepping back and kicking me in the head. Maybe on a good day I would have been fast enough dodge it, maybe not, but it was definitely a mistake which I was thus forced to address.

I really did try to follow the advice of the coach, who I have a lot of respect for, both between and during sessions but I could not help feeling that at the time I did worse the more I changed. I suppose this is often the way with changing technique for the better. After being fairly beaten up for five minutes we took a break, and I was told that I had another round. “I’m not quitting” I thought, which I later learned was something of a family trait, both my Dad (another Karateka) and Granddad (a boxer) had apparently been in the same situation. The first half of the second round resembled the first round, however I started to wake up, landing a decent counter right, and an intercepting front kick. I was suddenly staggered by a harder throw of the same head kick that I had been taking periodically, which stunned me despite the shin-guards.

I was checked over for a minute or so, given the O.K. to continue, and went back in. I had learned my lesson and finally stopped leaning, a point emphasised by the great and persistent cornering work of Michael Page, who I began to respect more and more each time I encountered him. Aided by this cornering I had something of a second-wind and came back stronger, this time keeping range with efficient use of the jab I had developed during my time there. The last minutes of the round strangely held my opponent and I on a roughly equal footing, as far as I could tell anyway. I

had reached that point that in Zen they call Mushin, or “no-mind”, and though stunned and bleeding thickly from the nose, was more ready than ever. Unluckily, or perhaps luckily for the sake of my well being, the round ended shortly after. I thanked my opponent for the lesson and left.

Curiously as I readied to leave the coach told me to look hard in the mirror, and said that one day I would have the opportunity to do that to someone else. I don’t know the true intent of that comment but nothing could alienate me more. I am not motivated to hurt people, and the more I follow this path the less I want to.

One thing that martial artists need to understand is that you simply cannot survive a fight if you are thinking about moves. I believe that this is a tendency reinforced by practising a crystallised style, with a right and a wrong way, and a set way of doing things. Mr. Miyagi would suggest that my focus needs more focus. The fixation on performing this or that technique during a fight, thinking “I should throw this or that strike” or any variation of “I am going to do X”, is a good way to get your ass kicked. A fight is an arrhythmic, dynamic, chaotic clash of bodies and minds. You must simply act and react. I cannot stress this enough: If

this is all you do, you stand a better chance of getting the better of the vast majority of potential opponents. The object of training is simply to hone those reactions into something more efficient and more useful to you. Trust the organism, it breaths without your command, and it will defend itself without your command. The Zen Master Takuan Soho once wrote to Yagyu Munenori, a Master Swordsman, that if a man’s mind is in his right arm, the rest of his body is useless, if a man’s mind is on a target, he is undefended; the mind must be left alone, and allowed to occupy all space.

Left, right. up, down. side, side. Breathe in, Breathe out. write for the lion. and no scare fish!

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WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH | THE LION

COMMENT? Anonymous Position Unknown

The Epilogue to Three Years at Heythrop

Having come to the college for the first time just over three years ago, I did not for a moment envisage the kind of experiences that I would have been fortunate enough to have been through, nor did I for a moment think that I would actually meet any body of note at a specialised catholic college. I thought you’d all be weirdo’s and freaks wanted to be sheltered from the harsh normality of regular university; you know, with cheap drinks, huge lecture halls and the horrendous lad culture in which you may be asked by a peer to down a pint.

Oh god that would have been tragic wouldn’t it. Thank goodness we have a shitty little bar that’s still as expensive as a Wetherspoons, where we can console one another about how it’s good it is to not be at a real university, with real people who might judge us. But Heythrop has taught me a lot about the world, a place where drugs raid and mass can quite happily be scheduled alongside one another on a quaint Thursday here. Or how you can have people actually think that elected bodies of students can actually make a difference to the

closure of an institute and or even just believe that students are willing to engage with their peers. It’s been a privilege to see the end of a four hundred year dynasty end with a bunch of stoners pissing it all away.

Heythrop has taught us all a lot, I believe, most importantly, while at university a degree is not by any stretch of the imagination the most important thing that will be going on in your life. But I think we’ve all learned about the world as a whole, we’ve learned that we can grow and change while not really realising it.

I think this is all due to the fact that we’ve got our own individuality. No two are the same, no group is too self-involved. Everyone is quite sincere and thoughtful. We have been fortunate enough to be surrounded by people who themselves have been stand out personalities.

Now I’m not talking about the kids who just walk in and plonk themselves in the corner of the class, leave half way through and disappear until graduation. You know who they are, but don’t necessarily know them, they have done nothing but bring you a bit of intrigue, which has been nice but I’m still 96.45% sure one of my fellow class men will at least at-

tempt to murder someone. I know it’s not a nice thought. I’m not saying it’s going to happen, I’m just saying I’ve met some creepy people you know.

One of the most disappointing things about our future, aside from the content of our degrees, is not that we have a degree from Heythrop but that we have a degree from Heythrop and now this place has closed. I can’t wait for the endless questions of “Hey have you met my friend whose university actually closed?”

“Yeah it was actually that shit.” You can’t argue with their accuracy nor can you argue with their insight, and to believe we’re meant to be the thinkers of the world. All I know is that we are all about to be unleashed upon the world. Every last Heythropian?!?! What are we even called? Heythropites, Heythropish, Heytitans? I’m not quite sure but it definitely isn’t catchy or cool. We currently are on the path to extinction, and the only way to avoid extinction is to reproduce rapidly. So please students of Heythrop, fuck and fuck again.

Fuck your flatmate, fuck your course mate, fuck anyone. For if we do not fuck, then we die out and that’s definitely how it all works. I see

the summer ball being the biggest orgy since Rome fell, the sun will shine as someone uses Summa Theologica to clean the sweat of their glistening brow as we produce millions of Heythrop babies who will tell are story for centuries to come. If this doesn’t happen you only have yourself to blame for why the memory of Heythrop never lived on. Thank you Heythrop and thank you students, you’ve made this average university increasingly more average just with a couple of quirks along the way.

Cheers.

H. G. Swells.

CULTURE Television: House of Cards

Dan Tobin Second-year Undergraduate

SPOILER ALERT!

Season four of House of Cards follows in the footsteps of its predecessors and more than fulfilled the expectations of the eager fans desperate for the next installment of the Underwood’s nefarious rise to power. Whereas previous seasons have focused primarily on Frank Underwood (portrayed by Kevin Spacey) and his machinations in his endeavor to unseat and replace the President that he helped get elected only to find the promise of the Secretary of State’s Office reneged, season four developed the relationship between Frank and Claire (portrayed by Robin Wright) alongside some deeper political and philosophical issues.

Amidst the campaign for the 2016 Presidential elections (first the primaries, concluded at a particularly eventful open Democratic National Convention in Atlanta, swiftly followed by the general election), Frank and Claire

must take stock of their position. Claire’s defiance of Frank’s demands and orders in season 3 pushed the two apart, culminating in the cliff hanger in Chapter 39. Claire is inspired to run for elected office herself, against her husband’s wishes. However, a disgraced journalist and a snub-nosed revolver quickly put paid to any hostility that they may have had to each other. With the President shot and in dire need of a liver transplant, Claire puppeteers the Acting President into a plan regarding Russia and China beneficial to the Underwood’s overall goal; hegemony at the top level of government. This incident brings them closer together, not quite rekindling their relationship or their marriage, but rather re-awakening the primary motivation for their entire lives; together, they are unstoppable.

This series explores concepts of love (between Claire and Frank, and between Claire and Tom between Claire and her Mother, between Conway and his family, between Dunbar and her ethics, etc.), of betrayal, of truth, of justice, of grief, of loss, of ethics and of right and wrong.

When it becomes clear that the President’s rise to power is not as sparkly white as it seems, journalists start to connect the dots – a process that appeals to those whom Frank has spurned in his rise to power. Frank’s betrayal

of his duty and power inspires betrayal of him in others. The truth becomes more important than personal safety or security, or even happiness. This character development of Remy Danton and Jackie Sharp, for example, show that without control, strength can become weakness. Anybody can enjoy the power and success of victory when it is handed to them; it’s when their chips are down and the fight is lost that the real character is forged.

The subjectivity of truth is also explored via the inclusion of the ‘PollyHop’ search engine; a tool being used by Underwood’s presidential opponent, Republican Will Conway, to harvest data on people’s searches and factor those into his campaign policies. This touches on the real-world issue of domestic surveillance of citizens to combat cyber-terrorism. Here it is being used for political gain, a moral grey area anyway, while in real life it raises concerns regarding the right to freedom of speech and privacy. Another touch of realism is added in the form of ICO; the Islamic Caliphate Organisation. A clear allusion to ISIS, the terrorist group presents a clear and distinct pressure on the Underwood’s, adding more to their already heavy plate. The hostage situation that develops at the end of the season feeds of any government’s darkest fear; domestic terror-

ism. Homegrown radicalisation is at the top of many Western government’s agenda, for fear of the spread of radical ideas that leads to armed insurrection is a threat prevalent now more than ever. Beau Willimon’s inclusion of this factor only lends House of Cards the credibility and viability it so deserves.

Overall, by combining the Machiavellian wiles of Frank and Claire Underwood with an exploration of complex themes like love, betrayal, truth, morality and by adding a touch of realism by incorporating real-life threats to the mix, season four makes for compelling viewing. The rollercoaster relationship that Frank and Claire undergo is a message to us all; to go beyond marriage, beyond love, beyond petty squabbles, beyond political disagreements lies a strength untouchable to those bogged down in the humdrum of everyday life. By recognizing the big picture and how all the internal cogs fit together, the Underwood’s are an invincible power couple. The show’s creators provide a dramatic depiction of the goings on of Washington, D.C. coupled with some philosophical lessons wrapped up in the stellar portrayals from Spacey and Wright.

Five stars and stripes out of Five

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WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH| THE LION

CULTURE Jenny Moran News Editor Hail, Caesar is a Cohen Brothers film, brothers famous for films such as Fargo and The Lady Killers, none of which I have seen. I had been warned that it was most probably going to be a bit of an odd film, but I’m not sure I was prepared for the bizarre quirkiness that unfolded.

It was full of questionable subplots, surprising musical scenes and hilarious moments which you expect never to happen, but is the type of thing you always think could really happen but they would never put in a film. The film is a Cohen Brothers twist on a look at the various different genres in the film industry at the time, and the craziness behind it all.

The film is set in the 1950’s and is based around the production company Capitol Pictures and the production of its new film ‘Hail, Caesar!’ Its Head of Physical Production Eddie Mannix is juggling various problems and scandals throughout the company, along with a job offer from Lockeed Corporation of an executive position. He is trying to solve the problem of actress DeeAnna Moran’s pregnancy out of marriage by finding a way of her putting the child up for adoption and then adopting it herself. This is along with Baird Whitlock, star of ‘Hail, Caesar!’, being drugged and taken for ransom by a communist group who call themselves ‘The Future’, who were asking for $100,00 from the corporation for his return.

This information is told to Hobie Doyle, a country star who is put in a period film directed by Laurence Laurentz where he does hor-

Film: Hail, Caesar!

rendously. Doyle sees actor Burt Gurney, who we see perform a tap dance earlier in the film, with the suitcase with the ransom money in at a film premier and follows him back to where Whitlock is being held. ‘The Future’ then row a boat with Gurney on offshore to a Soviet submarine where Gurney boards with the money but subsequently drops the money as his dog jumps at him, not wanting to be left behind.

Whitlock returns, Moran marries Joseph Silverman who was sorting out the adoption, and Mannix rejects the job offer and stays at Capitol pictures. This all happened with Mannix trying to fend off twin rival gossip columnists, who wanted to reveal a scandal from a previous film ‘On Wings With Eagles’ of Whitlock getting the role by sleeping with Laurentz.

However, this information came from Gurney, who Mannix reveals is a communist so the information is never published.

Written down, the film seems to flow easily, but when watching it every scene has to be taken as its own separate piece of work, until the very end where it all links together. As hilarious and spectacular as I think the film is, the wonder of it definitely comes from the individual scenes, rather than the plot itself.

We see Channing Tatum playing Burt Gurney, a sailor perform an incredible tap dance scene which is truly amazing and entertaining, but really has no bearing to the rest of the film, just as the synchronised swimming scene

with Scarlett Johansson as DeeAnna Moran also has the same standing in the film. I think this slightly lets the film down, as there is a niggling feeling whilst watching it that it is all building to nothing, and there isn’t actually going to be a conclusion to all the events.

However, if you don’t think into everything too much, and take what happens on the screen as it comes then it is much more enjoyable.

There are also funny little moments which makes the film its hilarious quirky self, such as when Hobie Doyle (Alden Ehrenreich) constantly says his lines hilariously badly and Laurence Laurentz (Ralph Fiennes) gets more and more frustrated with him, making it worse by correcting and changing the pronunciation of his name. Or, when Whitlock returns and tells Mannix all about The Futures ideas, which were incredibly averse to the

production company, ending in Whitlock being comically slapped a few times. These moments are made even better by the attractiveness of the characters, my personal favourite being Hobie Doyle, a young actor who just wants to do well. He is clearly naive but is so sweet, and tries so hard to do what is expected of him… he just doesn’t get it quite right.

The character of Burt Gurney is one which we never expect to end up being the bad guy.

He comes across as an enthusiastic talent actor but is actually a communist nutcase who is the cause of all the problems… something which you never see coming! DeeAnna is also a surprise when watching the synchronised swimming scene. She looks sweet and lovely and you expect her to be a girly character but she turns out to be a strong, hard woman who clearly gets herself into trouble quite a lot!

The Cohen brothers have created such different characters yet they all seem to complement each other, despite being so incredibly opposite, and all being held together by the same person, Eddie Mannix. He comes across as a hard man, but with a vulnerable side, and probably the most normal of the lot. But he is so endearing you are praying for him to stay at Capitol Studio’s throughout the whole film, despite the stress he is under.

It is hard to talk about Hail, Caesar! without mentioning the all star cast. Geogre Clooney, Ralph Fiennes, Scarlett Johannson and Channing Tatum, just to name a few, all surpassed themselves, playing characters I would never have thought they would play, but did it so convincingly I never should’ve doubted them.

It was put together perfectly. So, maybe not the most perfect film, with feelings of it not really going anywhere and the need to pick up the pace at times, but hilarious, quirky and with the right amount of mystery.

cum in roma, quemadmodum Romani, scribe enim leo!* *we take zero responsibility for not being very good at latin

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WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH | THE LION

DISCOVER LONDON An Oasis of Beer Spots for Refreshing Craft Brews Katie Milne Managing Editor

Although as a populous of students I’m sure most of us (present company excluded) enjoy a lager from time to time, sometimes it is nice to try something a beer that is a bit different. With even ye ol’ faithful Wetherspoons offering a range of craft ales for a while now, there really is no excuse not to expand your horizons when it comes to beer drinking, so if you fancy visiting a more exciting establishment then here is a few choices.

Belgo Covent Garden, Old Compton St., other locations Belgo is a Belgian restaurant known for it’s moules and Belgian beer, fortunately enough the staff are perfectly happy for you to sit at the bar and just drink the beer rather than sitting down for a meal. They have a very wide selection of beers, from Belgian white varieties to European takes on IPA, all of increasingly higher percentages which is fun if you want to get wine-drunk on beer. My favourite part however is a range of fruit beers - which should never be mistaken for fruit ciders, as it is literally a beer with pure fruit puree mixed in. Whatever fruit you like, from passion fruit to cherries to mango, there is an option for you – even if you consider yourself a bonafide beer hater.

Catherine Squibb Editor-at-Large

Cutty Sark

Going out: Five Ways

Silent Disco

Have you ever visited the Cutty Sark by day? Why not try it by night? Silent disco’s are the newest craze on the London Night life scene from the shard to ships. The beautiful Cutty Sark in Greenwich is now providing the Silent Disco experience in the bow of the ship. You can party under the sea until the early hours of the morning. This world famous ship has had huge success previously selling out way in advance.

There are dates available up to December are out and ready to book, so book fast! Not only are you partying with a little bit of history, on 22nd April on the top deck you can also gaze at the stars with an expert astronomer! Don’t miss a night of smooth sailing at the most unforgettable party in London to date!

Piccadilly Institute Massive

Piccadilly Institute is one of the biggest clubs in London located in the heart of the party scene. This 5-floor club has six electric themed rooms each with their own individual cocktail list. Whether you want the cheesy classic, electro pop, alternative or punk, Piccadilly has everything for you! Heythropers who want their in Fresher’s ’13 or this years Halloween party will know it is always packed and you can flit from room to room enjoying the party as you go! This huge club is perfect for wild nights out, big events and themed parties! Anything you are looking for, they have! Fancy a night out you know you wont be disappointed with, this is it! See you there soon!

Brew Dog Bars Shepherd’s Bush, Shoreditch, other locations You have probably heard of Brew Dog Punk IPA, being a craft beer that has broken into British cultural consciousness, being sold in branches of Wetherspoons and even stocked at Tesco, but maybe you didn’t know that Brew Dog have several of their own bars around London. These bars offer 9 of their own varieties of beer on tap as well as a range of daily guest beers from other breweries around the UK and Northern Europe.

With a small bar menu as well, this is the perfect place to spend a day trying to make your way through the menu, as they have countless beers to choose from. I’m sure by the end of the day you would have an exact definition of ‘hoppyness’ in mind.

Guilty Pleasures Guilty and Fun

The Craft Beer Co. Brixton, Covent Garden, other locations How could I make this list without including the place that boasts to have London’s biggest selection of beers. There are 37 beers on draft as well as over 300 different bottled beers in the fridges, come here and you will be very much spoilt for choice. With so much choice it might be hard to pick what you want to try, but the staff here are well versed in beer and will be happy to give recommendations based on what you like. If you are really unsure they will even let you try a small sample.

Pitchers n’ Pop

Student Central

The new student staple! London’s best classic night out. Great drinks, nice staff and good music, what more could you want! The Roxy has every night you could want. Each night has its own music theme, so there really is a night for everyone: Anthem (Rock and dance on Mondays); Panic (Punk and indie on Tuesdays); Choke (R&B and Hip hop on Wednesday); Radio (Pop music from all decades on Thursdays); Joyriders (EDM and Disco on Fridays); to the ultimate event, Do you want me baby? – Pop and Hits on Saturdays. The club that can give you every sound you want, providing it in an intimate alternative for partying in the West End. With Happy hour every day of the week, why not grab some half-price pitchers and party some the classics! Some seriously cheap drinks and songs for the masses, this is the ultimate singalong as the DJ plays the anthems!

Always a favourite with Heythropers, Student Central (which we all still call ULU) has held Friday night as club night for years gone by!

Whether it is weekly drink brand takeovers or themed nights, each week hundreds of University of London students ram into three bars and a massive dance floor to party the night away with some great DJ’s!

Though, long gone are the days of queuing at 10pm and getting turned away due to full capacity it is still packed with fresher’s, students and PG’s all just wanting to relax and have a good time! They tend to theme parties around the term dates and holidays, therefore being a great place to let your hair down once you have had enough of the Heythrop common room! With drinks deals no one in London could beat, it’s the ideal Friday night blow out! Check out www.studentcentral.london for more information on the latest events and will see you there soon!

The Roxy

Ever want to party in an old theatre with unicorns, Beyoncé’s and acrobats? Who doesn’t? From Whitney to Timberlake and from Bieber to Britney, all your cheesy guilty pleasures are fulfilled in one night at Koko in Camden. If you just want to have fun, laughter and sing to every song you sometimes feel ashamed of listening to, come party on the 4th weekend of every month! We all have our guilty pleasures, whatever it may be, so come celebrate the musical side. Cabaret performers, the odd bit of karaoke, live acts, and balloons is just the start – a little bit of glitter, dress up and get guilty!

Fridays!

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WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH| THE LION

CREATIVE COMMONS A COUNTRY SOJOURN We took a northbound evening train, And walked from town down country lanes, A lazy, long, meandering stroll.

Then walked across that grassy knoll, Retracing the steps of yesterday’s stroll, Down country lanes and back to town.

We left for fields of gold and green, Crossing rivers, banks and streams And came to rest on a grassy knoll;

And oh, that we have to live this life, To answer summons to some banal assize; Returned to the world of greys and browns.

And turned our eyes to the day that dies, The sun that set ablaze the sky A fading ember in the West.

Our time together is near its end, Be sure that I have no dearer friend; Don’t say goodbye, my darling dove.

As the dusk began to fall We heard, we felt, an urging call; The night was not a time to rest.

For as you leave I would have you know: You take my heart wherever you go; And they call this life yet it breaks up love!

And we, heeding that voiceless cry To take our feet and onward drive, Went hand in hand into the woods.

And found a clearing, luscious emerald and blue, Under twilight promise of the fair young moon; The silent signal understood.

You weaved a laurel of night flowers for your hair, I took a sharp stone that I found there, And carved our names in a great tree’s bark.

Then face to face, with fingers laced, We fell to move in forbidden grace, Like shadows dancing in the dark.

Our minds’ concordat not to think, Pulled by passion unto the brink; Passion is reason’s marionettist.

And high above on silent wings, Throat exposed to trill and sing, Sweet nightingale, most sublime melodist.

Your frantic heart beats in your chest, My hand would still your heaving breast, We light and share a cigarette; And take gentle sips of the cold night air.

The world had never seemed so fair; The sky a midnight marquisette.

But the morning breeze began to blow, And yonder hear the cockerel crow, To mark the light of day’s return.

We sat with warm caressing hands, And watched the dawn as it bathed the land, The dark condemned, away to burn.

BEN MERCER

We are together at the station, And already the low that follows elation Makes its unwelcome presence felt.

And here we make our last embrace And can you see it on my face?

I curse the rotten hand we’re dealt.

You buy the ticket to take you back, Your carriage waits upon the track, And how I hate that southbound train; That takes you far too far away, And how I long for yesterday, As I turn for home, alone again.

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WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH| THE LION

CREATIVE COMMONS Mikaela and the Farmers’ Market: A SHORT STORY Dan Fair Second-year Undergraduate

I’d spent the Summer gaining wisdom from my lost love and all the thoughts and feelings that had sprung from the experience of coming to terms with its passing. Now, as the autumn months grew colder, my adolescent mind turned from growth to regret, and all too suddenly I felt the world fall on me. Like leaves to the ground, like lambs to the slaughter, we were marched, single-file, into that most immortal prison, wherein one may listen but never learn.

Emotionality came easily to one such as I, the Florean Fortescue of young boys whose hearts had been broken by untamed little women.

Far and away the greatest thing that could have happened to me was the seasonal wake up call that found me, appropriately adjusted to Daylight Saving Time, such that I may arise from my cocoon a better, more rounded man.

It occurred to me that running away had never served me, and that perhaps my Summer had consisted of nothing but.

My mother used to tell a story about a Farmer’s Market; and unwilling as I am to do so, I’m afraid I feel nought but compulsion to place the cart before the horse upon my telling you this, but I must preface the story with its moral. She used to end the story by saying, “And now you see, son, that is why, as it happens, one must be receiving of pain. To be inhospitable to pain to be inhospitable to life, such that one may never be receiving of life if one turns away her friends. Yes, pain may tease and jab and poke and scratch, but upon the occurrence of such things, pain will turn to be a grand friend, whose presence can be counted on, and whose fortunes can be there for you if only you dare to ask.” She described such a relationship: abusive; bipolar; an ever-shifting relationship from the cradle to the grave. It occurs to me now of course that she was describing my late father.

She told the story thusly. Newcastle-underLyme, 1965. It was her brother who spoke to the men at the stalls, each of them trading and counting their money as they went about their daily business. Before the soulless corporatocracy had gleaned all humanity from the Market St stalls, there were Market St stalls; more than facsimile and simulacra; more than selfcheckouts and Apple Pay. Before there were those, there were these: humble traders without a machine to their person, making deals and selling their wares, sparking the matches and lighting their fags. It was a wholesome time.

As her brother spoke, she would interrupt here and there with tidbits: I’d like a this; What’s a that? There was a man to whom she never spoke, however, who held with him in his right hand, at every moment of his trading hours, a cleaver. He was a towering man, with what had always appeared to be a bloodthirsty smirk that spread across his face. His eyes screamed rage, his teeth bared, his moustache curled and his cleaver at the ready. Her fearless brother would take charge, as he always did: “A chicken for the Sunday Roast, my man,” he would say without a hint of a waver in his voice. It would always be the biggest chickens that he would receive from the butcherman, large enough for one to feed the entire family of six. It was the nature of these things to be discerning, to pull the purse strings tightly, but her brother spared no expense: when it was necessary, he would supplement the family budget with his own, drawing from his pocket not only the sixpence he had been given by his father, but also a sixpence he had earned earlier that week. Though times were hard, even at that young age, he knew how important the Sunday Dinner was to the family.

It was not too long after that my mother asked him: “What is a chicken?” He tried to explain, though he knew not how to best go about it. In the end, she had no more a clue than that with which she had started, thus a plan was formed.

That Saturday, on the Farmer’s Market, they

would go back to butcherman and ask him. My mother remembers it word-for-word.

She approached him, fearfully, her voice quivering on every quaver. “Wh-wh-what’s a chicken?” she asked the man, with his eyes so red and his smirk so wide. He threw his cleaver down, wedging it in his chopping board, then exited his van and reappeared next to her. He sat down on his ankles and spoke softly to my infant mother.

“A chicken, my dear, is a kind of animal. It’s a bird, to be more specific. It can’t fly like a swallow or a tit, but it lays eggs and flaps its wings all the same. We raise them and feed them on a farm in Audley, then we kill them and bring them here so you can eat them.”

“Y-You kill them?” she replied, visibly upset by the news.

“We do.”

“But that’s bad!”

“I don’t think so. We give them as a good a life as we can before doing it, and we kill it in as painless a way as we know how. See, I’ve killed a fair few chickens in my time, and there’s always a part of me that feels deep, deep remorse for their deaths, but ultimately, there’s only so much we can do to survive on this planet.” All of a sudden, the butcherman appeared to her more wholesome, and more genuine.

What was a smirk was now a gentle smile, and what were soulless, empty eyes now featured extension and emotion. “It hurts to know what I do to other living creatures, but I take that hurt and that pain that it gives me, and I wear it like armour: I’m not cruel; I’m just performing a job that needs to be done; what is cruel is those who would eat a chicken, but who would not sentence it to death. I wear the pain like armour, you see? Like armour, so I know that I still feel in a world that does everything it can to beat it out of me. I still feel.”

I was there, walking into the lion’s den, and then I saw her. That mane of tousled blonde hair shone, golden as the sun, a searchlight beacon calling out, looking for me: was it to

come to me, or was I to go to it? It was Mikaela, whose words had spurned me not so long ago; and as her lips parted I felt them ready the venom she hid behind her eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry about —” I had grown since then. I was now the better person. “Before this goes any further, Mikaela, I want you to know that when you turned me down at prom, I was severely hurt, and that hurt has only now just been received into the home of my soul.”

“I know, and I —” “I was broken when you said that I was a good friend, but that we should not be together. I was broken because I loved you, Mikaela.”

“No, I know, but —” “But I cannot be around you anymore. I have come to terms with the pain, and for as long as it continues, you and I must remain apart.”

“But I haven’t seen you at all over the Summer …” Tears began to cascade down her cheeks, framed by her waves of silken hair. “Can’t we still —” “I have made my mind up, and on the recommendation of my trusted confidant, my mother, I must decline any offer to go back to the previously established relationship paradigm.”

“I don’t have any other friends. I thought we —” “I’m afraid I must be leaving now.”

And with that, I walked away from that coldhearted bitch who would turn a man such as I away from her life. She could whisper her devil-tongued aphorisms and deliver her tears to the Gods for all I cared. I was a stronger man now, who would never tie himself to a woman again.

I think my mother would be proud, oh so very proud of me now that I have become a man. I have learned to allow my pain a right of passage to the centre of my soul, and to cast out the thoughts of others around me. I am better for it, more independent than I have ever been before. I now accept the message of the story she told me all those years ago. Who needs Mikaela anyway?

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WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH| THE LION

HOROSCOPES Aries

Mar 21 - Apr 19

Nimble, intuitive, determined, handsome, sleeps a lot, fluffy - oh sorry, I was just describing my cat. He’s the cutest lil’ monster. He’s a poofy ginger tomcat with white peets and a stripy tail and his name’s Purrci and he’s quite the heffer but I love him.

Leo

Taurus

Gemini

Cancer

Apr 20 - May 20

May 21 - Jun 20

Jun 21- Jul 22

No fewer than sixteen planets will be traversing your sun trine with Saturn this month. Where have all these other planets come from I hear you ask.

They’re secret.

I’m not allowed to tell you anything except that they might interfere with your ability to make good decisions in the fortnight ahead.

You get a bad rap, y’know, Gemini. It’s a shame really - people calling you two-faced and all that. But maybe you shouldn’t go around selling your coke at family rates to only some of your pals and not others.

Huh! How about that?!

Time is an emollient of wounds. The further an enemy sniper bullet has to travel, the longer it takes to get there and the greater the decrease in speed resulting in a less-forceful impact.

Virgo

Libra

Scorpio

Jul 23 - Aug 22

Aug 23 - Sep 22

Sep 23 - Oct 22

Oct 23 - Nov 21

I spend a lot of time thinking about big cats that still like to sit in cardboard boxes - and so should you.

It’s high time you aired out the skeletons from your closet... I hear Epping forest is nice and secluded this time of year.

Peter Gallagher (SJ) and Peter Gallagher (actor, The OC) will compete in a noholds-barred eyebrowoff. Who wins? Only the Gods can decide.

Your energies are all over the place this week. If you’re finding yourself jumping about from one task to the next, maybe get off the space hopper and try focusing.

BigCatDerek on Vine.

You’re welcome.

Sagittarius

Capricorn

Aquarius

Pisces

Nov 22 - Dec 21

Dec 22 - Jan 19

Jan 20 - Feb 18

Feb 19 - Mar 20

Today is a good day to remember that if you live every day as if it is your last, one day you will be right. Dress well.

Don’t look back. Keep moving forward. He said he’d kill your family if you look back.

You hear the anguished screams of the ones you left behind. You’ll have to forget about them now. It’s the only way. That baby’s safe.

Karen’s safe. They’re all safe as long as you Don’t. Look. Back.

Everyone else is a twunt, and you are the last beacon of hope appearing dimly on the horizon, twinkling steadily at the peak of the barren hills.

Love live Aquarius!

Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud. Scatter yourself across the ether and appear as droplets of water, refracting light across the sky. You are beautiful.

You are infinite. You are no longer flammable.