The University of Oxford has recently collaborated with the University of Minnesota to launch a scientific project to photograph and classify animals in the Serengeti national reserve.

‘Snapshot Serengeti’ is part of the Zooniverse project and offers users the opportunity to experience an ‘online safari’ using pictures of animals taken throughout the 5700 sq. miles park. Zooniverse is led by Oxford University and Adler Planetarium and allows people to interact with scientific projects online.

Zooniverse projects encourage people to get involved as online volunteers. Scientists involved in the Serengeti project are hoping that users will help to classify animals in the photographs to help identify the different animals found in the park.

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Christopher Lintott, the director of Zooniverse, is a researcher at Oxford University and leads Citizen Science projects. He explained how he got involved in the project, telling Cherwell, “We played this game before in 2007 when we took millions of pictures of galaxies and put the images online. We realised that people were willing to give up their spare time to help researchers and we were then contacted by other researches of different projects. For Snapshot Serengeti, we teamed up with biologists largely from the US, and combined our software expertise with their data. Some of the images are amazing.”

The project has been very successful with 3.7 million animals classified and 70, 000 people visiting the site so far. The pictures are taken with a camera trap, which are remotely triggered cameras that allow photographs to be taken of shy or aggressive animals, which might be too dangerous or difficult to photograph in person.

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Chris Lintott continued, “There are only 230 cameras to cover the whole area. One member of the team from the University of Minnesota, Ali Swanson, checks them every few days to ensure that grass doesn’t obstruct the view of the cameras. Now that so many people have got involved and there’s been so much enthusiasm for the project, we can justify using more cameras as we have the manpower from the public to continue classifying the data.”

Students of Oxford University were receptive to the project – Rebecca Hannon of Balliol College commented, “This is a really interesting and different idea. Getting the public interested in online projects has worked well in lots of other areas of science too.”

Other current Zooniverse projects include classifying galaxies according to shapes using the Hubble telescope, and modelling the earth’s climates.

★★★★☆
Four Stars

Dan Smith’s ambition was never to be a pop star. The lead singer of and driving force behind Bastille has gone on record saying that he always wanted to go into movies. ‘Other People’s Heartache’ is where he combines his passion for film with his music, weaves intriguing remixes and rethought versions of old songs, and just generally has a lot of fun. Part 2 builds on Part 1, with Dan Smith getting even more ingenious with his connections between film and music and adventurous with his production.

The new production team F*U*G*Z, formed by Smith and rapper F. Stokes must take a lot of credit for this album, and F*U*G*Z is accordingly given a number of ‘ft.’ acknowledgements. The team announces itself immediately (after Bastille have updated us with a TV-style ‘previously on Other People’s Heartache’ section with clips of each track from the last album and had a boys’ choir sing the chorus of Bastille’s song ‘Icarus’ of course!) in ‘Killer’ with some slick production; while it does draw attention to itself somewhat, it works well, instantly creating the atmosphere that the album gives off throughout – one of everything happening everywhere at the same time. The song, a cover of Seal’s ‘Killer’, is so eventful it’s ridiculous, with a sample from George Michael’s song of the same name, Liam Neeson promising “I will find you, and I will-” and downbeat electronic wizardry all over the place. And don’t worry, Smith’s tongue remains firmly in his cheek, having Marty McFly announce at the end “Guess you guys weren’t ready for that. But your kids are gonna love it.”

Dan Smith’s humour is a huge part of the album, and it is evident throughout. In the cover of ‘No Scrub’ by TLC mixed with The xx’s ‘Intro’ and filled with excerpts from Psycho, Smith implicitly accuses Norman of being a ‘scrub’ because he ‘lives with his momma’. The track ‘Thinkin’ Ahead’, a cover of Frank Ocean’s ‘Thinking About You’, opens with a reference to a rather different Frank in Donnie Darko’s “a storm is coming Frank says” speech. ‘Sweet Pompeii’, mostly a soulful cover of Calvin Harris’ ‘Sweet Nothing’, almost seems like a practical joke on the listener as we go from the verse to a clip of Bernie Sanders talking about the economy to a hilariously unexpected sample of the exact beat break from Harris’ version. Add to that an N-Trance cover and some more humorously appropriate film excerpts and you have a joyfully playful analysis of popular culture and media.

Despite all this, the album does flirt with sincerity at times. The wonderful Kate Tempest produces a beat poem on ‘Forever Ever’ which combines brilliantly with the cover of Bastille’s single ‘Bad Blood’ Dan Smith enlists the help of Gab Aplin’s spine-tingling voice to produce a beautiful cover of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Dreams’, opening with Gene Wilder’s excellent Willy Wonka declaring ‘we are the music-makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams’ and littered with moments from The Corrs’ ‘Dreams’ to complete the theme. Ella, one of 2013’s most exciting prospects, assists on a goose bump-inducing rendition of Tina Turner’s ‘Private Dancer’ which explodes into life when she starts belting N-Trance’s ‘Set You Free’ and the album closes with a chilling rendition of ‘Holy Night’, and Dan Smith definitely has the vocal pedigree to pull off the hymn. It’s blended cunningly with clips from ‘Home Alone’ including the band’s parting message: “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal, and a Happy New Year!”

The band are giving this album away for free, just as they did Part 1, on www.otherpeoplesheartache.com because, as far as we can see, they’ve only made it because they thought it’d be fun, and they want you to hear it. Much as we all wish Bastille would hurry up and release a ‘proper’ album already, it’s so refreshing seeing artists creating for the sake of creating, and obviously loving every second of it.

I love quiz shows, I really do. I love getting the answers right. I love pretending I got the answers right. I love mocking the contestants when they do not get the answers right. Though apparently not as much as Jeremy Paxman and his quizzical brow do. They are a chance to prove one’s unequivocal knowledge of the culture capitals of Europe, or films starring Kevin Bacon; essentially they are a great way to feel like a bit of a clever clogs whilst a wordless word document stares at you from across the room. However, the time of lording my superior knowledge of all things uninteresting over my family and friends whilst they try to enjoy their evening viewing has finally come to an end. 

‘Only Connect’, the most viewed show on the somewhat haughty and grown up BBC 4, is like an intellectual punch in the face. Scheduled to begin just as University Challenge ends, it maintains the mood of civil Monday night viewing (or in my case, aggressive fact fighting), but forces you to climb several rungs up logic ladder. As opposed to reeling off random facts potentially overheard at a pub quiz, the teams have to actually think about things. The basic format requires the teams to make connections between seemingly random images, words, or pieces of music, meaning you have to be able to link stuff like “things made out of melted guns”, or “tube lines if they were translated as snooker ball colours.” It’s torturous. It’s also genius. 

Everything about this program is clever, sharp and a teensy bit elitist. From the titular E.M Forster reference, to the fact that teams choose their question by selecting a hieroglyph (seriously), no academic is left unruffled. Even the classically stringy introductory music gives everything a sense of serious if-I-get-one-right-I’ll-be-a-better-person-ness. Cleverest of all is the show’s presenter, Victoria Coren. I don’t want to be quizzed by her, I want to be her. The somewhat unnerving lack of a studio audience does not phase this lady, as she embarks on monologues and witticisms, gently mocks the teams (most of whom look like they followed University Challenge when Bamber Gascoigne still presented it), and makes us believe she really did already know the answers to all the questions. 

So, though quiz show fans may have a more relaxing time watching QI, or a more successful evening watching The Weakest Link, nothing says ‘wild Monday night’ like a quiz show that repeatedly assaults you with stuff you didn‘t know. All it needs now is a drinking game.

The Strictly Come Dancing Final: a dramatic night for all. Tears, tantrums and twirls, and that’s just my living room. It’s as if the industrial strength hairspray has seeped through the nation’s television sets and partially sedated us all. I find myself laughing at Brucie and wishing my wardrobe had more sparkle. I even start to believe that Bruno is a real person and not a permanently aroused jack-in-a-box. I am completely and utterly sucked in. Described by a BBC insider as a "warm bath", the show’s continued success relies on the light-hearted silliness it brings to Saturday night; in short it is the comfort food of television. However, it is certainly not to be underestimated.

The tenth series of Strictly consistently defeated rival X Factor in the rating’s battles, and pulled in an incredible 14 million viewers for the final. X Factor and Strictly both aim to be a theatrical viewing experience, with each year becoming bolder, brighter and generally more abrasive to the eyes, but somehow the latter manages to retain some semblance of heart. By sticking to the same formula and pretty much the same team since its conception in 2004, the show has kept its core fan base whilst seducing disillusioned X Factor devotees with promises of sincere judging and (slightly) less desperate competitors. Though the show undoubtedly (and occasionally unfairly) boosts the profiles of those on it (Alesha Dixon I’m talking to you), there’s an overwhelming sense that is actually is just about the dancing, and, wait for it… the journey. The judges know what they’re talking about and offer the right balance of humour and advice, and the celebs seems genuinely bitten by the notorious ‘Strictly Bug’. 

This year has been no exception, with Louis Smith, Denise Van Outen, Dani Harman and Kimberly Walsh fighting tooth and highly-polished nail for the title. Though each have had their ups and downs throughout the series (such is the way of Saturday night viewing) it was Smith who stepped up to win in truly Olympian style. Despite playing up to his role as this year’s Strictly Stud, his Charleston was accurate and full of character, his Dirty Dancing Salsa preferable even to the original, and his showdance, well… just watch it on You Tube. 

Though the ordering of the show was a bit rushed, with Robbie Williams shoved on the end and sounding like an overtired pub singer, the dancers themselves provided more than enough entertainment. As a bit of a Strictly puritan, it was great to see all four of the finalists perform the dances with style and technical ability, whilst completely immersing themselves in the general giddiness that is Strictly. The whole show verges on hysteria; from the unpredictable nature of Bruce Forsyth (or for that matter, Bruce Forsyth’s hair), to the sheer brightness of everything and everyone on set, the show is pulsating with energy. Mercifully, the kind of energy that goes nicely with sitting in your pyjamas with a cup of tea.

Admittedly, I am more invested in Strictly than your average/sane viewer. Having been a ballroom dancer aged 3 through 18, the arrival of Strictly meant my weird and glittery hobby became cool overnight. Well, cool in an unashamedly not cool kind of way. Why the hipster contingency haven’t jumped on Ballroom is beyond me… Eight years later and Strictly is still bewitching us. We know it will be in-your-face, camp, and a bit cringey, but we do it anyway because it’s bloody good fun.

Contains spoilers from first sentence.

Downton Abbey’s 2012 Christmas offering bordered on the bizarre, subjecting 7.3 million viewers to clumsily introduced (and swiftly departing) romances, unmotivated Bitchy-Maid-Wars and, of course, the ‘unexpected’ bumping-off of its central character – Matthew Crawley (Dan Stevens).

The overwhelming characteristic of this festively feature-length turkey was the linger. So. Much. Lingering. The lingering smiles which new maid Edna hurls towards Tom Branson number precisely 762, with further lingering scowls/looks of intense mistrust between ‘Shrimpy’ and Wife, as well as O’Brien and Doppelganger, not to mention the longing looks (lengthily documented, of course) to which Thomas subjects Jimmy. After nearly every line comes an unnecessarily lengthy shot of the actor’s face, in which they are apparently expected to express the sentiment of lines past and plotlines future, in some form of facial charades game.

Of course the climax of this episode is the car-crash (if you can pull the single car-crash from the surrounding car-crash which forms the rest of the episode. It’s like Inception. But with car-crashes.). The one none of us saw coming… Unless you’ve read any of this year’s interviews with Dan Stevens. Or any of the speculation over his reappearance in Series 4. In which case you were sat through the entire thing waiting for him to walk into the path of gunfire, fast-moving vehicles or a rogue and/or enraged stag. There was a moment in which the birth of his son inexplicably made Matthew feel like he’d ‘swallowed a box of fireworks’, where I thought they might have gotten really inventive.

The really surprising thing about the car-crash was its complete silence. We didn’t see a crash. We didn’t even hear one. We hear piano and violins. We see a leafy drive. We see a lucky escape for Dan Stevens. We see a spate of Facebook statuses railing against ITV’s lack of festive spirit.  

The real measure of the absurdity of Matthew Crawley’s ‘sudden’ death is the fact that ITV felt the need to release an explanation for it: the plot failed so entirely that the production company actually needed to release a statement to explain the real-life reasons behind its decisions: Dan Stevens decided not to renew his contract. 

In many ways (all ways?), the demise of Matthew Crawley can be seen as a mercy-killing, palpably on the cards since he was forced, by some extraordinary (and medically dubious) plotting, to miraculously leap out of his wheelchair last year. And this episode presented all of the reasons that an actor would choose to run for the (Highland) hills rather than renew a contract: dialogue more wooden than Bates’ leg and plotting less plausible than Matthew’s increasingly-yellow highlights (Compare series 1 to series 3. Mysterious.), not to mention ratings decreasing by nearly 1 million viewers since last year’s Christmas special. 

Even this episode’s lingering (yes, more lingering) shots of historical trains and a whole new National Trust property didn’t prevent it from inviting its audience to ask, after 3 series, “Is this the end of Downton Abbey, the pinnacle of period porn?”