Sunday, May 11, 2025
Blog Page 1750

Test errors impede History applications

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Prospective History students were late in being told whether they had interviews this year, after the History Aptitude Test examiners mixed up marks and candidate numbers.

The History Aptitude Test (HAT) forms part of the entrance procedure for History undergraduate courses at Oxford University. Andrea Hopkins, a representative for the History Faculty, explained to Cherwell that “errors [had] occurred where markers had incorrectly transcribed the candidate’s number,” upon entering each candidate number and corresponding mark onto a spreadsheet. Each examiner’s spreadsheet was then compiled to create a larger spreadsheet for all of the 1613 applicants.

Oxford University Press Office played down the incident, stating, “It should be noted that the error only affected a small number of students.” However the History Faculty acknowledged that “even if only one number was wrong, it would put the rest of the numbers below it out of sequence”.

The History Faculty revealed that HAT markers had not initially checked that every candidate number matched the right result. They accepted that errors had been made, telling Cherwell, “Of course what we should have done was devote several hours to checking every single candidate number and set of marks between the big spreadsheet, the markers’ spreadsheets, and the original script cover sheets, to detect these errors.”

An official at the History Faculty explained that HAT examiners must “somehow slot in roughly forty hours of marking on top of their normal teaching and research,” and “had two days less to do it all this year.” She went on to add, however, that, “We will of course always do a total check in future.”

A spokesperson from Oxford University Press Office said, “The History Faculty apologises for not identifying the errors more quickly, but felt that it was of utmost importance to ensure that all candidates’ scores were confirmed correctly.” He emphasised that the error did not cause too much inconvenience, stating that “the delay in notifying candidates for interview was no more than 24 hours.”

A current history student reflected on invitations to interview at Oxford, saying, “It’s better to come late than not at all.” He added, “Let’s hope these screw-ups in the History Faculty are a thing of the past.”

Another stated that the HAT mix-up was “Final proof that even the history tutors don’t give a shit about writing timed passages on American drainage ditches.”

University College undergraduate Thomas Cole remarked, “This is the biggest HAT scandal since Princess Beatrice’s outfit to the Royal Wedding.”

Government sought place at Oxford for Gaddafi’s son

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A senior Foreign Office civil servant is alleged to have made enquiries attempting to gain a place at Oxford for Saif al-Islam Gaddafi.

Gaddafi, the son of Libya’s recently ousted leader, wanted to study either for an MSc in Development Economics or the MPhil in Development Studies. However Oxford refused the proposal and Gaddafi instead went to the London School of Economics, whose links to the former Libyan regime are currently under scrutiny.

Lord Woolf’s Inquiry, commissioned by LSE to establish the facts of their previous involvement with Libya and to establish clear future guidelines, found that “approximately six weeks after Saif’s doctorate was confirmed he was asked to give a donation [to LSE].” The figure of £1.5 million was promised in July 2009, the same day as Gaddafi completed his PhD.

Oxford’s involvement in the event is revealed in a footnote to the LSE inquiry, with Professor Fitzgerald (Head of Oxford’s Department of International Development) revealing the initial approach from the Foreign Office to Oxford in Spring 2002.

The Foreign Office, he reported, were seeking help in admitting Gaddafi because “Libya was opening up to the West again.” However their approach was rejected, with FitzGerald revealing that the “bottom line was whether [Gaddafi] had adequate prior academic qualifications for entry.” He stated, “This is not only an issue of professional ethics, but also that under-qualified students struggle to keep up with the intense pace of Oxford postgraduate study.”

Upon hearing of Gaddafi’s academic qualifications FitzGerald told the foreign office that an application was unlikely to succeed, since he had no social science training and his prior degree did not meet the quality standard. His advice was accepted and Oxford had no further involvement.

Upon hearing of the request, St Hugh’s student Oliver Persey stated that the incident displayed “a lack of respect for the integrity of higher education establishments if the Foreign Office believes that a university will admit a student for any reason apart from academic ability.”

Danielle Bunting of Wadham concurred, arguing, “The government shouldn’t be allowed to attempt to give anyone a leg-up getting into university, let alone the son of an evidently very dangerous dictator, for the sake of building a few business links with the country.”

Pembroke’s Charlotte Tarr suggested that it was “an insult to the students who have worked exceptionally hard to get their places.”

Other students thought that Gaddafi’s application should have been rejected purely based on his background. Yajur Shah, from Keble, argued that “admission as a postgraduate at Oxford University should take into account your past activities, especially if they could have serious implications for other people in the world. A Master’s degree from Oxford could qualify someone to do a great deal of good or bad in the world and I’d personally prefer it if it were the first.”

An Oxford University representative reported that this was a one-off event and reiterated that admission policies had not been compromised, stating, “Admission to Oxford is based solely on academic considerations, and this is a very important principle. It would not be influenced by factors outside of academic ability and potential, of this or any other kind.”

Oxford University Press under pressure

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Members of Oxford University plan to flood Oxford University Press with requests for one of its books ‘The Collected Essays of A.J. Ramanujan’. The petitioners hope to test the publishing house’s claim that they stopped publication of Ramanujan’s potentially controversial essay ‘300 Ramayanas’ solely due to commercial factors, and not because of pressure or possible litigation from right-wing pressure groups.

In 2008, OUP India decided to discontinue publication of the only two books containing this essay. This coincided with certain groups in India looking into legal proceedings based on the claim that the essay was offensive to Hindu sentiments, with OUP India as one of the potential respondents. The University members claim that OUP “have done a fair amount of damage to their reputation,” and that its actions appear to be apologizing for publishing the essay.

In addition to requesting the book, there is also an online petition making further demands of OUP. Anish Vanaik, a graduate History student at Balliol and one of the organisers of the petition, outlined what they were hoping to achieve, saying, “We want OUP to publically clarify a few things: Firstly, have they apologized for publishing the essay? Secondly, we want them to publically state their support of the author, about which there is some doubt. And thirdly, they should reprint the book.”.

The essay in question looks at different versions of the ‘Ramayana,’ a Sanskrit epic poem which is also a sacred Hindu text. One issue for the complainants is that one version has the protagonists Rama and Sita as siblings, whereas they are husband and wife in Hindu tradition. The narrative is celebrated in the Hindu festival Diwali, and is part of Buddhist tradition.

Mr Vanaik called Mr Ramanujan “a scholar of very high repute.” He also expressed the opinion that, “the essay is not controversial work; the controversy has been made up.”

Although the number of petitioners is small, Mr Vanaik claims that the fact that support is from many disciplines and from leading academics adds credence to their claims.

A spokeswoman for OUP stated “I am aware that a group of local students is planning to order the book ‘The Collected Essays of A.K. Ramanujan’ in large quantities. I can confirm that the book is available and we will be fulfilling any orders we receive.”

She continued, “OUP India has for many decades successfully fulfilled its role as a disseminator of the best scholarship in India, and it continues to maintain the highest levels of integrity.”

Privacy Row Rages On

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The civil liberties organisation, Big Brother Watch, has re-issued its calls for Oxford City Council to scrap its plan to introduce CCTV audio-enabled cameras into taxicabs in the city.

The plans were due to be implemented by April 2015, but there has been fresh opposition to them in light of a recent court ruling. A judge at Southampton Crown Court stated that, “it was not reasonably necessary to install audio cameras on a permanent basis in all taxis in Southampton.” Paragraph 71 of the ruling in the case of Southampton City Council versus Kevin May stated, “The condition does not correspond to a pressing social need, is not proportionate to the legitimate aim pursued and is not necessary in a democratic society in the interests of national security, public safety or the economic well-being of the country.”

Following this judgment, the Director of Big Brother Watch, Nick Pickles, wrote to Oxford City Council, urging them to “abandon this invasive and unlawful policy without delay.” He commented, “I have written highlighting this ruling because the policy it lays out is very clear – such plans are unlawful, disproportionate and a clear violation of Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights.”

He went on to add that it would be “reckless for the Council to pursue such a policy, when it would clearly leave them open to legal challenges, as has been the case in Southampton. In times of spending constraints, this would needlessly put taxpayers’ money at risk.”

Oxford City Council claimed when the proposals were first made that they were concerned solely with the safety of both taxi drivers and passengers, following alleged assaults, mainly arising from arguments about fares in the city.

The Council’s plans have provoked mixed reactions amongst the student population in Oxford. One second year Geography student reflected, “Although they are run by private firms, taxis are, to a certain extent, a public entity – so if the installation of CCTV cameras increases safety, I can’t see that it’s a bad thing. What are people trying to hide?”

However, a second year Law student disagreed, saying, “It seems to me that there is little evidence to support the council’s plans; and now that this ruling has taken place in Southampton, it could set a precedent for similar cases, which might leave Oxford City Council in a tricky situation.’

A spokesman for Oxford City Council said that, in light of the developments, “We need to take the time to consider the ruling before we can make any decision regarding plans to introduce CCTV in taxis.”

Review: An Island

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This is a film that allows Danish art-rock collective Efterklang to shrug off the sterilizing influences of studio professionalism. Created in collaboration with the independent filmmaker Vincent Moon, An Island is beautifully smeared through with patches of found sound and gently pulsating images — a powerful counterpart to some very intricate chamber music. Moon has an incredible history of capturing music-making on film, best known for his ‘Take-Away Shows’ — one-take session recordings from Arcade Fire to Phoenix — for the website La Blogothèque. A similar aesthetic is present throughout An Island.

 Opening with the amplified ambient wash of the Baltic Sea, the music eventually emerges from the natural soundscape as Efterklang deliver an acoustic rendition of ‘Raincoats’ from the back of a truck. The song fades away on an improvisational tangent — all meandering percussion suspended over loose vocals. At the film’s heart is a nighttime performance of ‘Alike’, finding a concentrated intimacy in the musicians’ old rehearsal shed amidst fragile violin lines and singer Casper Clausen’s agile shading. Certainly the pop stylings of Efterklang’s latest record Magic Chairs, which provides much of the music in this film, are a step down from the classically-structured fragments of 2007’s Parades, but they haven’t lost their propensity for incredible harmonic sense. Towards the end of An Island, the musicians return to their old school to perform ‘Me Me Me The Brick House’, underlining the great sense of community running through the band’s musical projects.

 Efterklang’s early musical steps quickly drew comparison to Icelandic post-rockers Sigur Rós, presumably on the strength of the Nordic connection and the latter’s pretensions to the experimental. Sigur Rós successfully navigated their way to mainstream banality on the basis of their own 2007 film, Heima — one and a half hours of Icelandic landscape-porn. I did worry that Efterklang were facing their own Heima-moment this year, so it’s a relief to see that all their maverick tendencies have been preserved. What Efterklang have always excelled in is their attention to timbre. In a wonderful scene early on in the film, the band run wild in an abandoned barn, making field recordings by throwing together logs and beating wooden fencing together with scrap metal. Glorious.

5 STARS

Review: Curling King

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My favourite films of the year are of a predominantly dark and twisted nature: Tyrannosaur begins with a rage-consumed alcoholic kicking his pet dog to death; Miss Bala follows the exploits of a beauty pageant contestant who becomes embroiled in gangland warfare; Snowtown delves deep into the sadistic affairs of Australia’s most notorious serial killer; and We Need To Talk About Kevin explores the repercussions of a maternal nightmare so heinous that even Polanski couldn’t fully embrace it. After leaving the screening of each one, I was forced to watch back-to-back Disney films for the next 24 hours to avoid a catatonic breakdown. 

But my fifth favourite film, starring a middle-aged ice curling champion with a debilitating case of OCD, seems disproportionally more gleeful by comparison. And yet it never received anywhere near the level of acclaim the previous four attained. Maybe that’s because it’s not the style of ‘misery porn’ so adored by the vast majority of film critics who wish to seek assurance that their own solitary lives do not resemble such harrowing portraits of poverty and despair. Fortunately for me, this Norwegian tale of misadventure (King Curling) does not try to spoon-feed any profound moral lessons or emotional epiphanies, but instead boasts a series of vignettes which include father-and-son Rod Stewart impersonators, a permanently harassed Pepsi deliveryman, a set of poorly executed karate kicks directed at a group of bird watchers, and the most cringe-inducing pole dance in cinematic history. It’s certainly a film that requires a positive suspension of your critical faculties, but there is a strong focus on loyalty and friendship buried beneath such farce.

The plot follows Truls Paulsen (Atle Antonsen) and his eccentric friends on a mission to overcome adversity and win the curling championships – and more importantly the prize money – so they can pay for their childhood hero’s lung operation. So, it’s somewhere between Dodgeball and The Full Monty… on ice (and steroids). I admit that it’s a well-worm formula – a group of men pulling together to compete in a tournament – so no points to Ole Endresen for a screenplay that wholly conforms to the traditional loser-to-winner template, but structural originality is never the point when it comes to slapstick comedy. Instead, the film’s humour relies on bathetic excess, the characters intoning sentiments with immensely earnest gravitas about the inherently funny-looking sport they worship. Consequently, few of the lines are funny on paper; instead, it’s the way in which the thesps deliver them with such severely straight faces that puts the material across so well. The ensemble cast is uniformly excellent; Atle Antonsen, exhibiting a deep Jack Nicholson-esque disquiet, as the menacing Trul is a standout performance, along with Linn Skaber, who shines as his frustrated, slightly demented spouse.

Reminiscent of directors like Bent Hamer and Roy Andersson, the film is full of bizarre encounters and inanely happy colours, giving the whole flavour a bubblegum perkiness which befits the story and its characters. At one point I did get the overriding feeling that Endresen was trying to didactically convey a message about drug taking – specifically, that mood enhancing pills are society’s method of unnecessary, short-term comfort… but I swiftly eschewed this attempt at moral commentary in favour of laughing at a fat man being chased down a corridor.

In this comic sense alone, it is the perfect antidote to the trying-desperately-hard-to-be-profound Oscar fodder you’ll find in almost every cinema over the coming months. So let the film critics sneer all they like: King Curling may be shallow, outrageous and essentially Dodgeball’s freak of a cousin, but my god will it make you laugh. 

Review: My Week with Marilyn

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Nothing appealed to me more this summer than the thought of soon seeing Michelle Williams acting as Marilyn Monroe, strolling the streets of Mayfair. What a thought, what a sight, and what a treat that this film turns out to be full of such moments! For all its mildly frustrating narrative simplicities, nothing calls for such tedious flaws to be tossed aside quite like Williams’ take on Marilyn’s adorable, irresistible laugh and smile, both of which are here in abundance.

Like most, I only know the ‘legend’ of Miss Monroe at the cost of knowing little of the woman, and I suspect My Week With Marilyn stays firmly in the former territory. This isn’t so much a biopic as a dreamy snapshot of an enigma, helped by the fact our perspective is that of a posh-boy intern called Colin who can’t quite believe his luck. There’s a dash of truth here insofar as a young boy did indeed make it onto the set for the filming of Marilyn’s only British film, his father happening to be friends with Sir Laurence Olivier (who directed and costarred in the film in question, The Prince and the Showgirl). And the film is, roughly, based on his diaries. You can’t help but feel, however, that for the sake of the pure joy of the moments it provides, there will have been an exaggeration of the extent Colin got to know her. Or, if it isn’t the filmmakers doing the truth-inflation, it will surely be the boy himself who makes up the nude swimming scene in a sun-kissed lake.

The queerness of their friendship is the reason for reservations about the film as a whole here. It starts off appearing as a clear source of humour that won’t go too far. The focus seems to be Olivier’s inability to grasp the fragile Marilyn’s insistence on using Method acting to take time to ‘feel’ her character, and the tension on set that results. But before long this becomes the backdrop, and we go from laughing at casual, flirtatious conversations between the world’s greatest sex symbol and a boy, to surprise that she is suddenly confessing all to him and demanding comfort-spooning in her bedroom. It is here that we start to doubt the film’s opening claim to be a true story. Most of its key scenes are all too conveniently between two people in private.

But perhaps the costs of this approach — namely, story-skepticism and boring-boy comments on the events unfolding around him — are made worthwhile by what they allow. Without it, maintaining the mystery surrounding Marilyn would have been harder to justify, and with the loss of that take on her we would also miss out on some delightful scenes we are willing to suspend our doubts about. If Williams wins Best Actress, it won’t be for any stand-out climactic moment in which she gets to pour her heart out. It’ll be for a sustained, quiet performance in which she has mastered all the mannerisms and perfected the posture, before capturing the cultural image of a sensitive, vulnerable, but ultimately playful soul.

3 STARS

Sócrates: The Footballer Who Broke The Mould

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With a full-bodied beard, Bjorn-Borg style headband and straggly hair, he resembled more of a 1980s rock star than that of an elegant footballer. An admirer of Che Guevara and Fidel Castro, naming his youngest after the latter, he was a strict adherer to the philosophy of the beautiful game who deeply involved himself with political issues that stretched far beyond the football field. Sócrates was not your average footballer.

Refusing to play professional football until he completed his medical studies at the age of 25, the qualified doctor emerged as the perfect remedy to cure Corinthians lengthy title drought. During his highly influential six-year spell with Timão, the man nicknamed ‘Magrão’ (Big Skinny) became nothing short of a cult hero. His elegance and composure on the ball, leadership and outstanding goalscoring prowess — scoring at total of 172 goals in 297 matches — proved significant as he guided the club to Campeonato Paulista wins on three separate occasions, 1979, 1982 and 1983. And whilst he enjoyed further success in 1983, being crowned the South American Footballer of the Year, his concern for the wider Brazilian community during the country’s military dictatorship was apparent. Sócrates saw that football could be used as a medium for social activism.

Just as Castro and Guevara had inspired millions of Cubans to revolt against the Batista regime in 1950s Cuba, so Sócrates, together with teammate Wladimir, came to spearhead their own revolutionary movement in the mid-1980s in Brazil, known as the Corinthians Democracy. Protests by the players against the club’s management of them was seen as a rejection of the current regime and a microcosm of the wider injustices experienced by the Brazilian people under the military dictatorship. In November 1982, Corinthians players had the slogan “Vote on the 15th” printed on back of their black and white shirts — a daring public act of defiance urging the public to vote in the upcoming elections and one of the first moves towards ending the dictatorship. Indeed, his revolutionary manner off the pitch was equally visible on it.

Despite his slight build and tall frame, so much so that he stated: “I am an anti-athlete […] You have to take me as I am,” Sócrates’s unmistakable elegance, composure on and use of the ball was clinical yet simultaneously effortless in its own way. With his almost-telepathic vision and pinpoint passing, the midfield maestro was able to instigate moves that routinely had great defenders fooled, unlock even the tightest of defences and consequently open up goalscoring opportunities for the strikers. He played with expression and creativity, so much so that he came to pioneer the now famous back-heel that prompted Pelé to once remark that Sócrates played better going backwards than most footballers going forward. Nonetheless, the 1982 FIFA World Cup Finals was to be both his greatest and yet most painful moment in football. 

Following his debut for A Seleção in May 1979, he quickly became the heartbeat of the National Team, which gained notoriety within the world of football for its free-flowing 4-2-2-2 formation, jogo bonito philosophy and eye-catching movement, captaining the side at the 1982 FIFA World Cup Finals. His and Brazil’s first goal of the tournament against the Soviet Union — a wonderful right-foot strike from 25 yards out, having seamlessly slipped past two challenges — has become the most replayed in World Cup history. However, his dreams of becoming the fourth Brazilian captain to lift the trophy were agonisingly dashed as Paulo Rossi inspired Italy to overcome Brazil in the Second Round of the tournament. To this day, the 1982 Brazil side is still widely regarded at the greatest side never to win the FIFA World Cup.

Sócrates experienced heartbreak again four years later in Mexico, with Brazil exiting the competition at the Quarter-finals stage on penalties to France. Eight years later though, his younger brother Raí succeeded where his elder brother had failed on two previous occasion as he helped the National Side to win the 1994 FIFA World Cup in the USA under the captaincy of Dunga. Following his retirement from the game in 1989, he went on to become a popular TV commentator and columnist, always offering a unique philosophical perspective and never shy to express his, at times, controversial thoughts be it, most recently, on the malaise of the current National Team set-up under head Coach Mano Menezes through to criticism of the 2014 FIFA World Cup planning committee. The 57-year-old has undoubtedly left behind an endearing legacy. 

His midfield mastery, terrific reading of the game and pulling of the creative strings — all embodying the romantic side of the beautiful game — had a lasting affect on a generation of supporters who came to fall in love with A Seleção. Moreover, Dr Socrates, as he came to be known, was an intellectual — a man who possessed eclectic football knowledge in addition to an acute awareness of social issues and cultural interests. His thoughts on the progression of the game, namely advocating nine-a-side football, and exploits outside of the sporting arena made him stand out and above from the rest. Perhaps the aforementioned Paulo Rossi best encapsulates the iconic midfielder: “You couldn’t place him in any category – on the pitch and even more so off it […] He was unique from every point of view.”

Perhaps it was written in the stars, that on the same day that news of his death was announced, Corinthians clinched their fifth Cameponato Brasileiro title. Whilst it was exactly what O Doutor would have ordered, the manner of the victory left much to be desired. A far cry from the footballer that possessed an unrivalled instinct for the game, fearlessly challenged a regime and came to be idolized by the Brazilian people. Sócrates was truly one of a kind.

Twitter: @aleksklosok

Review: The Vaccines, O2 Academy

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I expected the sell-out gig to be packed with throngs of keeno teeny boppers. To my surprise, the crowd was mostly middle aged and balding. The very same bunch who get their hip-tips from the national media – not the ideal demographic.

The Vaccines swaggered on stage, like boxers to a ring: classic rock entrance song blaring out accompanied by epileptic flashing blue lights. They were very faithful to their studio album, which is an all too rare thing. But it felt a tad clinical. All had in-ear monitors, all played in perfect time and all looked like they had dollar signs in their eyes. The lead singer, Justin Young, shamelessly wore a varsity jacket with a large ‘V’ on the front and an even larger ‘THE VACCINES’ on the back. Really?

Their songs have a definite punk aesthetic: short and effective. ‘Wolf Pack’ and ‘Norgaard’ were the stand out songs from their otherwise homogenous catalogue. The reaction from the crowd was immediate, which would have been exciting were it not for the three blonde 30-somethings standing in front of me, jumping demonically and (ooh, ooh) waving their water bottles in the air (ooh, ooh) like they just don’t care. 

Support band, Howler, played a competent, but bland set. Simple re-hashings of generic indie that has been done many times before. Overall I feel that The Vaccines are doing good things for mainstream music, but they still have a way to go if they are going to be a truly impressive and original band in the studio and on the road.

Oxide radio stopped due to misuse

Oxide was off the air for the last few days of Michaelmas as technical problems were compounded by the untidiness of the studio environment.

The student radio station faced severe equipment problems from Friday of 7th week until Monday of 8th but during this time there were concerns over how the studio, a small room within the OUSU building, was being treated. Reports of the room being found filled with rubbish (particularly empty alcohol bottles) added to fears that the expensive equipment was being treated carelessly. These concerns were heightened when the studio was further damaged on Wednesday and left completely unusable, leaving the Oxide managers with little option but to suspend the last two days of broadcasting.

Sara Pridgeon, who co-edits the Oxford Theatre Review and regularly produces content inside the Oxide studio, expressed her frustration with the actions of other presenters. She told Cherwell that the incident was not a one-off but a particularly bad example of a common problem, indicating that she was “never surprised” by the room’s condition upon arriving for her show, even when this included broken equipment or scattered rubbish. She added, “Everyone at Oxide needs to do a lot better – we can’t actually produce shows or be taken seriously if we don’t respect our studio.”

Tuesday night presenter Andrew Seaton commented that the events were a “real shame,” adding, “Oxide is poorly funded compared to a lot of other societies and [the radio station’s] committees have worked hard to balance the books while attempting to maintain a functioning student radio station.” He later indicated that “this [was] a real setback,” since “things seemed to be getting better – especially in the new OUSU building.” He pointed out that presenters were usually the only ones around during broadcasts so the studio upkeep was very much a matter of personal responsibility.

Oxide Programme Controller Maggie Lund supported the conclusion that the damage pointed towards the thoughtlessness of individual presenters rather than vandalism. She commented that the Oxide community were “all just sad that a minority of presenters seem to treat the studio so carelessly despite using it every week to put out their show that they work hard on and care a lot about.”