Tuesday 26th August 2025
Blog Page 1473

Sub-par reaction to All Souls golf course

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ALL SOULS SUBMITTED plans last month to Barnet County Council for the development of a luxury golf course on land it owns near London.

The Local Residents Association has reacted angrily to the news and has started a petition against the plans. As of Wednesday, 1,400 people had signed the petition, which has also been backed by Hendon and Golders Green MP Matthew Offord.

The Residents association vice chairman, Ralph Simon, said, “At the moment we can walk through here unhindered. It’s one of our best assets and it would be a real shame to lose it. I don’t want this to be the end of our farm – it’s a beautiful, picturesque and peaceful patch of green belt land.”

The land has been owned by All Souls College since the fifteenth century, and has a farm on it that currently employs two people. All legal footpaths will be protected within the current planning application.

A spokesperson for All Souls College stated, “We’re currently putting forward a planning application and doing so within the legality of green belt regulations. We hope that those who oppose it follow the statutory regulations for doing so.”

The total land size is 450 acres and about a third of it will be leased to a developer to build the golf course. Concerns have been raised about whether the area needs another golf course, as there are twenty-one others within a five mile radius of the proposed site.

Other applications for change of use of this land have been denied in the past. This included a plan for a cemetery, which was rejected after local concerns were raised.

Balliol college member and Environment and Ethics officer James Rainey commented, “The local residents association are opposed to plans for a golf course, and I wish them the best of luck.

“Oxford colleges must recognise that their land holdings can be valued assets to local people, and that projects which restrict enjoyment of their surroundings should not be considered further.

“Conversely, plans for the site to improve its value for wildlife should be welcomed, and undertaken regardless of the planning application outcome.”

Barnet County Council stated that they were unable to comment while the application process is in motion.

 

Pembroke rugby club in crew date controversy

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Pembroke College Rugby Football Club (PCRFC) has apologised for an email sent to its members with the subject line, “FREE PUSSY”. In the email, the club’s Social Secretary provided details of plans for a crew date where each male guest should “pick” a female fresher of their choice. The sender of the email has since stepped down from his position.

In the same email, sent on Monday 21 October, he went on to propose a “challenge” to all male guests. He said, “please bring TWO bottles of wine – one for yourself and one for your guest”. The email continues, “You must open the bottle in advance, and include a substance of your choice. It may be spirits or food or anything you like.”

He added, “Please be as clandestine as possible in your deed”. The email further stated that the theme of the crew date was “VILLAINS” and that “Villains must be discrete [sic] in their work.”

The rugby club’s annual crew date with female freshers at the college was arranged for the evening of Thursday 24 October. Members of the rugby club were asked by the social secretary to ensure they had “picked [their] lady for the night” and the email noted that “every fresher in Pembroke is quaking in their boots thinking they might be picked as our date.”

One member of the team was instructed in the email to, “Please bring a positive pregnancy test. This task shall be ongoing until you succeed.”

Last term all rugby teams in Oxford were invited to attend workshops run by the Good Lad campaign, launched by the Oxford University Rugby Club, promoting ‘positive masculinity’, but the Pembroke rugby team did not take up this invitation.

However, after the content of the emails was made known to other members of the college, a large proportion of the team was present at a sexual consent discussion forum at Pembroke on Wednesday night. The forum was organised by members of the Pembroke JCR committee in conjunction with representatives from OUSU and the governing body of the College.

The team’s profile on the website crewdater.com states, “Hi we’re Pembroke Rugby and when we’re not noshing on each others [sic] crotches, we like to show you ladies a good time! Apply accordingly.” Their page on the Pembroke College JCR website describes them as “notorious on the crewdating scene.”

In the wake of the response to the email, the email’s sender has resigned as Social Secretary of the Pembroke College Rugby Football Club and the proposed crew date was cancelled.

A statement on behalf of PCRFC said, “Pembroke Rugby Club accepts that the emails circulated earlier this week about our proposed Crew Date were entirely misguided and represent a serious case of poor judgement.

“We would like to clarify that the “challenge” proposed in advance of the intended Crew Date was intended to be a harmless drinking game joke, and was in no way intended to mean that the team member should lace their dates’ drinks with anything illegal and/or to engage in any sexual abuse. A leader of the club confirmed, in a follow up email, that what the joke was supposed to involve the player adding another drink or food to their date’s wine (e.g. tabasco), and if the date guessed correctly what had been added then that player would then have to drink the wine.

“The rugby club and its members want to take this opportunity to apologise for any confusion or misunderstanding that arose from this.”

One member of the rugby team, who was one of the initial recipients of the email, said, “In light of actually reading the incredibly long original email, the social sec is clearly a fool to have said what he said. It is also a shame that all the Pembroke lads are smeared with the same brush, when what he said is obviously not representative.”

He added, “As a general comment I am deeply saddened this has happened, throughout my time at Pembroke the social side of rugby has been for the most part truly enjoyable, and I have made great friends. I haven’t been aware of any problem like this before, and find it such a great shame the actions of a few have offended so many people.”

A statement (full statement here) on behalf of Rebecca Howe (Pembroke JCR President), Sarah Wilmshurst (JCR Women’s Rep) and Alexandros Tsaptsinos (JCR Sports Rep) said, “We fear that the rugby committee do not seem to have grasped the seriousness of their offences, and will shrug this off as an overreaction of a female-led JCR committee. However, it is to the great credit of Pembroke that so many people have found the email completely unacceptable, and have spoken against it.”

The statement continues, “The captain and [former] social secretary will be issuing an apology to the JCR, and plan to speak about the issue at our next JCR meeting. A constitutional motion to introduce measures to formally sanction each club or society wishing to be affiliated with the JCR is being considered. We will also reconsider the JCR’s contribution to the funding of PCRFC if this behaviour continues.”

They also commented, “This incident does not – and must not be seen to – reflect the vast majority of sentiments in college towards women. We are an inclusive and respectful JCR, and we will not tolerate the actions of a minority threatening the welfare of our members, or indeed the reputation of our college.”

The statement concludes, “We are committed to ensuring that misogyny does not prevail at Pembroke, and that basic disrespect towards our female members will not continue to be excused as ‘banter’.”

Dr Clive Siviour, Dean of Pembroke College, said, “I am aware of the e-mail sent by a member of the Rugby Club. The content of this e-mail is completely unacceptable, and I am taking the appropriate action on behalf of the College authorities. These actions of a small number of students have been met with universal condemnation from their peers. I understand that the event referred to in the e-mail has been cancelled and the organisers intend to apologise fully to the JCR community for their actions. It is the responsibility of all of us at Oxford to create a community in which our students behave responsibly and with mutual respect; for this reason we fully support the excellent sexual consent workshops which OUSU are running in a number of colleges, including Pembroke, and the enthusiastic engagement of our own students with this initiative.”

Will Brown, a third-year student at Pembroke, told Cherwell, “I, like the vast majority of students at Pembroke, was disgusted by these comments. They represent an ugly, corrosive form of misogyny that simply shouldn’t be tolerated in any level of society, and that can’t just be dismissed as yet another supposedly harmless juvenile ‘joke’. This incident highlights the dangers of a ‘lad culture’ that has been all too dominant at Pembroke in my time here, and shows that commendable initiatives like sexual consent workshops are vital to ensure that our colleges and common rooms remain inclusive, safe environments for everyone.”

Lottie Sykes, editor of feminist zine ‘Cuntry Living’, said, “This email is another example of the sinister misogyny that encourages targeting younger female students through college crew dates. It’s incredibly disheartening that the furor over similar mass emails seems to have been ignored- [the email sender’s] proposal reinforces predatory, sexist values that are too often associated with Blues sports, and affirms an entirely negative stereotype. We have to shake off the idea that this kind of behaviour is funny or harmless- common justifications for refusing to acknowledge the gravity of misogynistic actions.”

One Pembroke student commented, “The concept of being ‘picked’ or ‘quaking’ at the thought of being invited to a meal isn’t the way to ‘welcome’ freshers to the university.” She continued, “Pembroke is such a great college and it’s a shame that a minority feel it’s acceptable to behave like this.”

Preview: Foxfinder

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William is a foxfinder. The play opens on a dystopian England, where foxes are scapegoats for failing crops. A fox hasn’t been seen since a government cull a decade before; since then, the species has become steeped in superstition. Foxfinders are ‘selected’ at the age of five and trained in almost monastic institutions, deprived of food, sex and temptation.

William (Nick Finerty) is the audience’s window into the existence of one such foxfinder. He’s been sent to the farm of Judith (Phoebe Hames), to look for ‘signs’. Judith is desperate: if the authorities decide the farm has been corrupted by foxes, she will be sent to a camp and her farm taken away.

William’s status is quasi-religious; his methods reminiscent of exorcism or witch-hunting. The court proceedings of The Crucible occasionally echo in his words: he can decide a farm has been infected by foxes without any proof. Signs like sexual deviancy among humans or even objects at certain angles to each other can alert him to the presence of this unseen enemy. 

In the scene I was shown, Judith and William warily converse in her West Country farmhouse. Judith is interested by how little William eats, by his upbringing, by the fact that his parents gave him up so young. Finerty parrots the phrases his character has been taught with unnerving conviction. “Hunger is a suitable reminder of the spectre of starvation that haunts our land.” William’s ‘house father’ was there to instil discipline; England is the only mother he needs. Ironically for someone brought up without a father, Finerty plays William with a healthy dose of ‘awkward dad’.

The foxfinder is required to sniff out sexual deviancy between Judith and her husband: Finerty is like a country pastor whose duties suddenly include asking his congregation whether they regularly have sex doggy style. “Do you…have sex…face to face? Or..?” William and Judith are face to face themselves, alternately making and breaking eye contact. Finerty’s cheeks redden with impressive speed, his head bent over a sheet of official questions on the table. Hames stirs her casserole determinedly, her eyes dart in every direction but his. “And…is it good?” This question, asked with sincere curiosity, is clearly not on his list.

The foxfinder has his own issues of sexual and emotional repression to work through, in an country that has domineered his life and moulded him into a bumbling figure of authority. Hames and Finerty’s mutual interest is sweet, and the slight wariness they display is believable. Awkwardness is easy to act but often overdone: the direction doesn’t fall into the trap of creating lazy, over-long pauses. Hames and Finerty have a clear rapport, and the single scene I saw definitely piqued my interest: Foxfinder looks like a strong addition to an already impressive 3rd week.

Foxfinder is on at the Keble O’Reilly from Tuesday 29th October to Saturday 2nd November. Tickets cost £7/£9 and are available here

Freddy the Fresher: Part Two

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Freddy’s legend in college was cemented and the impression of his flaccid cock burned onto the retinas of his fellow students.

‘Alright, Penis Boy,’ one, particularly eloquent fresher shouts at him across the dining hall, ‘How’s your penis?’ Truth be told, Freddy’s penis is absolutely fine, but his face is burning bright red. The embarassment of his fi rst day phallic blunder has dominated his freshers’ week. How can I fully enjoy Park End, he thought, when all the girls have already seen the goods?

But with the end of freshers’ week comes the onset of grim reality and, even though he is still too mortified to linger in front quad, Freddy’s biggest problem is rapidly becoming his fi rst essay. The endless toga parties, it seems, were an illusion. This microeconomics problem is his life now.

Sitting in the Social Sciences Library, he spots another fresher – a pretty blonde girl with a calculator – doing sums with a ferocious intensity. Wow, Freddy thinks, beautiful and an economics whizz, not to mention the fact that she’s not from my college and therefore probably hasn’t seen my penis.

He takes a quick lunch break, stuffi ng a bland falafal wrap into his face, and then returns to the library, choosing, this time, to seat himself across from the girl. Her nose is deep in Hal Varian’s ‘Intermediate Microeconomics’ – her perfect nose amidst those imperfect factor markets – but he continues to shoot her saucy glances, whilst also attempting to give the appearence of breezing through his essay. He picks up his calculator to do a sum, but puts it down. I don’t need no calculator, his eyes say.

In the three hours that they are sitting next to one another, she looks at him twice – once when he coughs loudly and then again when he sneezes. When she goes to the loo, he sneaks over and sees that she’s left her nexus open and scrambles furtively to discover the name of his new obsession. [email protected]...

In his first tute the next day, his tutor, however, brings him back to earth. Whilst the portions of his essay dealing with various curves were written with a great deal of (unnecessary) vigour, his maths is more than a little suboptimal.

Album Review: Pearl Jam – Lightning Bolt

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★★☆☆☆
Two Stars 

Ten studio albums. Ten. Pearl Jam are now as much of an institution as David Attenborough, but the Lord Governor of Africa on behalf of the British Empire (I think that’s Attenborough’s official title) has nowhere near the struggle for relevance on his hands that the Seattle rockers do. It’s been four years since their last album, and sadly the main thought reverberating around our heads in the wake of the release of Lightning Bolt is “why?”

‘Getaway’ gets the album off to an energetic start akin to being slapped in the face with a wet fish while Eddie Vedder jumps up and down on your chest and force-feeds you coffee out of an industrial-size oil drum. It’s a good song. The whole album is filled with good songs. ‘Sirens’ has a guitar solo that’ll set your soul on fire and ‘Mind Your Manners’ is dripping with classic Pearl Jam grungey disdain.

But the problem is the same one that all bands run into when they start becoming considered as ‘past masters’. Pearl Jam are supposed to be pioneers. In the 90s they were part of the Seattle grunge explosion that made the whole world take notice. Yes, Cobain hated them, but at least he cared. One can’t help feeling that if he were alive today, not only would he be making the finest, most progressive music on Earth, but he would also have completely lost interest in Pearl Jam.

It’s difficult to pick specific holes in an album like Lightning Bolt which is so obviously full of excellent musicality, and yet we’re still filled with the overwhelming desire to do so. They sound tired, they sound confused, and they sound old. Maybe this is unfair. Maybe it’s fine that Pearl Jam have produced another OK album that sounds the same as they always have, but probably not. Their success means they have to be held to a higher standard, and this standard has not been met.

The bottom line is, the fans will like Lightning Bolt, because it’s a perfectly decent album,but it’s nothing new. Pearl Jam are out of ideas.


Interview: Fossil Collective

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Oxford must seem like a second home to Fossil Collective by now. As they
tell me: “this is our third or fourth time. We’ve not been to the O2 before though.” Lounging in their dressing room they seem anything but intimidated. The band has been expanding recently (“We played America
as a three piece last year”) and now has five members. They slowly filter into the room during the interview like clowns cramming themselves into a tiny car. The more the merrier. The band’s debut album, Tell Where I Lie, is steeped in Americana influences and has had great success in America, going straight to the top of the New Albums chart after its release.

But why have they been so popular in a country so famously difficult for British bands to win over? “America’s a tough nut to crack but once you get your foot in the door it’s a big country so there’s lots of people there with different music tastes, and once you get started it’s easier to make inroads with a loyal fan base.” Dave Fendick and Jonny Hooker, the multi-instrumentalist founders of Fossil Collective, were both members of art-rock stylists Vib Gyor in a previous life. “Fossil Collective is completely different,” explains Fendick. “Vib Gyor was a really interesting experience, we’re really proud of what we did with them but this feels more organic and less forced.”

With so many bands around trying to make it to the big time it’s a bit of a mystery why certain bands achieve the holy grail of a feature in Cherwell whilst others fall by the wayside.

Comparing Fossil Collective to Vib Gyor, guitarist Sean Gannon stresses how much more “honest” the new band is: “Fossil Collective’s just about songs, it’s not about trying to be thisor trying to be that or trying to be part of some scene or something. When someone tells you the truth you can’t complain.”
I ask Jonny if they have plans for a new album, and he seems quietly optimistic. “The most important thing is not to think about it too much, but we do want it to progress.” They have a new EP coming out on October 28th which they say is about “giving something back to the fans”.

Having taken a good ten minutes to remember to mention this, they seem so proud of themselves for doing some proper promotion that the time for seriousness is over. Finally I ask what the band likes to do to unwind after touring (last year they did 19 consecutive dates). Fendick says he’s most excited about “getting home and opening all my post”. All the standard banter about women’s knickers ensues. The rest of the interview consists of the band making up their own questions. Fendick asks if we would we all rather have a monkey’s body with our own head or the other way round (obviously the former, who wouldn’t want a tail?). I leave as the rest of the band blockade Jonny Hooker in the toilet.

Review: Spoonface Steinberg

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★★★☆☆
Three Stars

There is nowhere quite like the Burton Taylor studio/attic. On a stormy night, like yesterday, the rain and crackling thunder are all too present within the theatre itself – was that an intentional lighting effect, or did the lightning just blow the studio’s electrics? As for the drama, the Burton Taylor attracts a unique combination of the profound and what can be politely described as drivel. Spoonface Steinberg is no exception.

The play is a one-woman show, in which the eponymous Spoonface Steinberg, a seven year old autistic girl, tells the audience about her life: she’s autistic, she likes opera, she comes from a dysfunctional family and she’s dying from cancer. This ought to pull at the heart-strings. Unfortunately it is just a bit tedious. We all know people die, and sometimes they live and die in ways that seem unfair.

But Lee Hall’s play, bloated with the unclear ramblings of an autistic child, adds little to this – the profoundest thoughts he gives us are a handful of belittling truisms. “The saddest things are the best things of all,” Steinberg repeats from her doctor at one point. Then she relates how her doctor’s mother had been incarcerated in a concentration camp during the Second World War. Thank you, Hall – there is no more patronising a way to provoke an emotional response than by irrelevantly summoning up the Nazis.

If the script is rather lacking, the production is brought back from disaster by the unwavering ability of Alice Porter, who plays Steinberg. She holds the audience’s attention without pause throughout the hour-long show, and never once slips out of the endearing character she has built up. It is hard enough for an adult to copy the physicality of a seven year old, let alone an autistic one, but Porter manages it very convincingly. A nice touch was the way she walked on tip-toe, which is typical of autistic children.

Similarly the set, though simple, convincingly recreates a child’s bedroom. A few toys, along with a framed poster of Offenbach’s Orpheus in the Underworld, are scattered on the floor and the back wall is obsessively decorated with crayon drawings. A stepladder, covered with a sheet and decorated with fairy-lights, holds the centre-stage and Steinberg uses it for some nice shadow puppetry at one point in the show. I gather the production team were happy with it too; “None of the set fell down – hurrah!” I overheard as I left.

Hall probably intended the saddest part of Spoonface Steinberg to be Steinberg’s final words as she tries to comprehend what nothingness means. The saddest part of this production was the waste of Porter’s talent on such a turnip of a script.

Spoonface Steinberg will be playing at the BT until Saturday 26th October

Cherwell app launched

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Get the app now on the Apple App Store or Google Play for Android

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Cherwell has launched an app for the iPhone and Android to bring its award-winning content to your mobile. Available today on the Apple App Store or on Google Play, you can see the latest news and videos from across the paper.

Glance at the headlines and read all our articles – everything is just as it appears online with photos and clips included. You can also vote for Fit College or use the Newsdesk to make contact with our editors. On Android, you can choose to receive alerts for breaking news and read our latest content offline. 

Get the app now on the Apple App Store or Google Play for Android

Features:
– Headline stories and news
– Most recent articles from across the newspaper
– Cherwell TV
– Vote for Fit College
– Write to the editors
– Offline reading (Android)
– Optional news alerts (Android)

The apps were developed by undergrads Patrick Beardmore and Sarab Sethi, and Cherwell’s web developer Adam Hadley.

Review: Out of Print

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Last week I watched Blade Runner, the cult 80s sci-fi film that imagines a somewhat dystopian Los Angeles in 2019.

In keeping with films of its genre and generation it has an endearingly oh-so 20th century conception of what the 21stcentury might look like: cities in the sky, flying cars, humanoid robots – you name it.

But amidst all that futuristic splendour there are newspapers, actual ink-on-paper newspapers. Hollywood futurology circa-1981 managed to dream up every outlandish creation going, but it simply didn’t occur that news might one day arrive on something other than dead trees.

What’s unfortunate, according to George Brock, who heads City University’s journalism department, is that it didn’t occur to journalists either. 

“The Internet will strut its hour upon the stage and then take its place in the ranks a lesser media”. So Brock teasingly quotes Simon Jenkins in 1997.

Jenkins, who used to edit The Times, now writes for the Guardian, a paper which has responded to plummeting print circulation by the unprecedented move of pursuing a ‘digital first’ strategy. Its problems are shared throughout the industry, forcing them to make editorial cut backs while searching for a business model that diversifies away from print revenue.

Brock neatly captures the malaise in a way that is comprehensible to the lay reader, though the narrative can be dry.

The book is at its best when it challenges the basic orthodoxy that the internet is killing journalism. The business model underpinning print media was coming apart well before new online entrants and social media emerged, Brock shows. 

And in fact by opening up a treasure trove of data, information and source material, there has never been a more exciting time to be a journalist. On the consumer side new technology may actually rescue newspapers, rather than killing them off.

That said, the age of industrial-sized media outlets is an aberration in journalism’s history, reaching a climax in the inter-war period. What need is there today for a newspaper covering everything from opera to Big Brother when a customised twitter newsfeed allows to pick only the content they are interested in, from multiple sources.

Brock predicts a return to an anarchic, more pluralistic market characteristic of the 19th century world of pamphleteers and activists. Politico, Gawker and Guido Fawkes are successful examples of outlets that have, at times, bettered old media, but Brock warns that even insurgent online start-ups like BuzzFeed, which as I write lists ’22 Hilarious and Disturbing Missing Cat Posters’ on its homepage, “will gradually become tougher competition for established players”.

Out of Print is a good primer in what journalism is (he refreshingly doesn’t subscribe to the obtuse notion that tweeting is journalism) where it has come from and where it might go. Brock’s story isn’t dazzling – I wanted more anecdotes – but it’s overwhelmingly shrewd.