YOU CAN NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN
There’s a new legislation proposal under way which strips us from any pseudo-privacy that we still had on the internet. Actually, it’s not just Britain and it’s not just the web. The shops are in on us, too! Andrew Gallacher analyses problems that are virtual by nature, but very real in their consequences.
It’s the good old ‘Three Strikes’ rule (governments love those, don’t ask me why): get caught sharing illegal files three times and your internet connection will be cut off. Naturally, there are a whole host of people opposed to this on the grounds of privacy and civil liberties and all those pesky things that governments do their best to ignore. And you would have to say that these people have a point. What if you simply happen to be sharing a connection with the file sharer? Are we now in the business of punishing the innocent along with the guilty? More than this, it seems to set the precedent that an internet connection is a privilege that the government may revoke at will. It’s a law that pretty much no-one in their right minds wants and which was, entirely coincidentally (?), proposed shortly after Peter Mandelson had a meeting with a major lobbyist for the media and entertainment industry.
This is hardly the first time that there has been cause for concern over privacy and civil liberties on the internet, but these issues appear to be surfacing with greater and greater frequency. In the US, the Cybersecurity Act of 2009 is under discussion which, amongst other things, grants the President the right to disconnect any network, private or public, which he sees fit. Back in the UK again and it is already a requirement for internet service providers (ISPs) to store every e-mail sent or received for up to a year. Plans are being considered to create a central government database to store this information. In France there is a proposal to create an internet monitoring agency that would have the power to cut off internet access to illegal file sharers for up to a year and to have the file sharers names added permanently to a blacklist. This is just a sample of the kind of issues that have cropped up in governments world wide during the last 12 months. If we include private industries, the list gets even longer. For instance, there was the Phorm controversy, wherein several ISPs agreed to sell details of their customers browsing habits to a marketing company. And Google’s plans to create an online library have brought up a number of problems around copyright and privacy (specifically the ability of private and public institutions to access user data).
You may rest assured that the same people fighting the good fight against Mandelson and his ‘Three Strikes’ law are at work on all these issues. And while students are naturally inclined to agree with the rebellious lot on these developments, we must ask ourselves a question: Are they actually right? Might not, on some level, on some occasion the evil governments and shady corporations have a point? What does privacy even mean in an environment like the internet? The internet is probably the least anonymous, least private space you will ever inhabit. You would, in many respects, enjoy more privacy walking naked through the city centre than you do just by checking your e-mail. The internet is an owned space, more clearly and completely than the actual physical world ever could be. It is at heart a collection of private networks. Every time you transmit and receive information it is passed over those networks and unless you use encryption that information is entirely open to network owners. That they don’t inspect the contents of data packets is taken largely on trust.
Take the aforementioned case of ISPs selling their users’ browsing history. Disregarding the means used to obtain the information, which was certainly a part of the controversy, your ISP has to know what sites you are visiting in order for you to visit them. So they’re not stealing this information, they have to have it. The issue is ownership. The argument is that you own the knowledge of what sites you have visited and thus only you have the right to sell it. Visiting an internet site can thus be defined as a private interaction in much the same way that you making a phone call is a private interaction. At the same time, supermarkets record their customers spending patterns without complaint from anybody and it seems to be an analogous situation. In fact, one of the main purposes of supermarket loyalty cards is to track customer buying habits for marketing purposes. So what is your browsing history – a private conversation or a trip to the shops?
Or, coming back to the heart of the problem, what of the government requiring our e-mails to be stored for up to a year. Reprehensible, yet the UK has more CCTV cameras per head of population than any other country and there is little public outcry. If we can be monitored so completely in our day to day activities it is hardly surprising the government feels comfortable extending that to online ones. Since we don’t seem to have a consistently applied notion of privacy in any aspect of our society, how can it be anything other than quixotic to attempt to apply it to the internet? Government reaction to illegal file sharing is unnecessarily draconian, but it remains a problem and will continue to be one until either IP laws change or the actions of a great number of internet users do. So until societies catch up with the reality of the online world, it’s best not to go online in search for privacy and anonymity.
ACTUAL HELP FOR GRADUATES
Life is hard, especially if you are about to fly out of your comfortable nest at university, feathered with your favourite duvet, illegal True Blood downloads and last night’s kebab leftovers. GUM gives you some helpful tips to prep you for the real world. Life is hard, especially if you are about to fly out of your comfortable nest at university, feathered with your favourite duvet, illegal True Blood downloads and last night’s kebab leftovers. GUM gives you some helpful tips to prep you for the real world.
1. DO NOT VOLUNTEER
Helping children in Somalia is nice of you, but if you’re doing it just to put it on your CV, stop and think again. How is this going to boost your career if you just graduated from Accounting and Finance? You should go and help other people only if you wish to do so from the bottom of your heart. Otherwise, please use your gap year between uni and work to learn a new language (German, Spanish, French). That could actually have a real impact on your employment chances in the future.
2. DO NOT WRITE YOUR OWN CV
By that we mean – do write the first draft and then let somebody else look at it and give you feedback. It’s best if you find a complete stranger to help you with this. Your friends and family know that you are very hard working and have a real talent for getting along with everyone, but your CV might be telling another story. And if you don’t know what the story is a number of doors could be left closed to you.
3. DON’T DO JUST ‘ANYTHING‘
Do something worth while. If you are not ripe enought to enter the job market, don’t waste your time working as a waitress, but try and get a funded scholarship at a foreign university or write to your dream employers and offer to do some work for free (you can outline what tasks you want to undertake). If you are the right person in the right place, by all means, you could be hired for real in a month.
The Land of a Million Elephants
BY LAURA HORSLEY
Laos, the land of a million elephants, is a must see when exploring South East Asia. Lush jungle, misty mountains and a deep engrained Buddhist culture are few of the attractions to Laos which has become a hub for backpackers trying to escape the tourist ridden Thailand.
Once in South East Asia, getting to Laos is relatively easy. A popular route into Laos is to cross the Mekong River at Chaing Khong on the North-East Thai border and travel into the heart of Laos via the “slow boat”. This boat is, literally slow, taking two days with an overnight stop at a small village until eventually arriving at the beautiful city of Luang Prabang.
Bearing in mind this involves sitting on wooden benches for 8 hours a day, surrounded by backpackers and locals, in a tiny narrow boat, this journey can be painful yet, is not to be missed. The scenery when traveling down the Mekong River is stunning with jungle, mountains and the odd village made of palms and bamboo, framing the pathway to your destination.
The first overnight stop the boat takes is Pak Peng, a small, relaxed harbor village that is extremely unaffected by time. Watching the sunset with the locals whilst trying to swallow the local moonshine alcohol that is freely offered around is something of an experience, but well needed to rid those sea legs. Don’t however get too eager with the prospect of free alcohol – the locals may be able to glug away but one sip of the lighter fuel like liquid and your throat will burn for days…
After a drunken nights sleep and another 8-hour day back on the boat, you will arrive in Luang Prabang. Once here, a crowd of excitable locals will greet you competing for your custom and the bargaining for a cheap room commences.
The efforts you will go to will be ridiculous, often bargaining over 20p as the backpacker purse strings grow ever tighter. A room for £1 to £2 is however common and means all the more to spend at Luang Prabang’s romantic night market.
The city of Luang Prabang itself is influenced by its French colonialist occupation, it’s traditional Buddhist culture, and Laos’ communist government. The upside to this is that Luang Prabang is a vibrant city that has managed to retain its traditional influences. Even better is the French cuisine, a happy necessity after living off noodle and rice for months on end. Once here, relax, wander around the numerous temples and treat yourself to a few bottles of the legendary beerlao. If you’re feeling really enthusiastic, you can also attempt to wake up at dawn to take part in the Morning Alms Giving procession. This involves kneeling in the street with the locals and offering food to the monks that pass by; a tiring but magical experience.
Moving on from Luang Prabang, you can travel onto more idyllic spots off the tourist trail or like every other backpacker, head to the grossly tourist spot that is Vang Vieng. The bus journey here is painfully slow and the roads will make your stomach turn but the scenery on the way is well worth seeing. Vang Vieng itself is nestled in a beautiful green landscape with the river on its doorstep, framed by vast limestone mountains. The town is however awfully affected by alcohol seeking travelers and a room in one of the quest houses on the river is a more recommended destination for a nights sleep.
The main attraction here, second to caving, is “tubing”; an alcohol fuelled bender where inflatable rubber rings are rented and you are dropped off at a string of bars by the river. Here, rope swings, slides, and trapezes throw you into the river and as you float down, the locals pull you in to experience their free shots and buckets of alcohol. If you’re after a mud fight, a few bevies and a very drunken, often dangerous, swim down the river, this is the place to be.
You can do this for a couple of days but soon enough your liver will yell for a rest and its time to travel to the capital Vientiane. Unlike Bangkok, Vientiane is a calming and relaxed capital that is a welcome change after one too many intoxicated nights in Vang Vieng. Here there is an opportunity to see the local temples, laze in one of the many cafes, and make some last minute buys at the morning market.
When traveling in Laos, it must be remembered that communism is prevalent and in some areas a curfew must be abided by. Do your reading before you go and be sure to avoid political events. You should be somewhat vigilant, as cases of civil unrest, armed attacks and bombings have occurred in the past. Especially in certain spots such at Route 13 from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, a highway that is known to be especially prone to bandits.
This aside, Laos is an extremely diverse country and whether you want to experience a different culture, trek, cave, venture into remote provinces or just get intoxicated with fellow backpackers, Laos is a perfect destination. The country is responding to tourism and as a result, becoming ever more visited and expensive but this is exactly why it is such a perfect place to visit now.
Just avoid the wet season, get some Laos kip and get traveling!
HOW TO GET THERE
An overnight sleeper train is the easiest way to get to Bangkok but flights can be taken to other countries from here. How recommendable it is to fly with Laos airlines is debatable. The planes are said to be more like flying cars and not all too safe to fly with. Based on price and time however, they are often a popular choice.
“The Master and Margarita” by Mikhail Bulgakov.
As sad as it is, not many young people in the UK know about this great Russian writer and Anna Martinen even dares to call him World-Literate. Even those leisurely readers, who are not interested in history and politics, can find something from the life and writings of Mr Bulgakov, as his works are incredibly clever and multi-dimensional.
Born in the end of 19th century, Bulgakov witnessed huge changes in the political landscape during his short life. While the majority in Russia were fascinated with the idea of a revolution and “the power of people” instead of royal rule, Bulgakov suspected that the future’s not going to be as bright as promised. He was a clever and educated man, extremely fond of his own beliefs and honour. People described him as the most honest person they had ever met and perhaps because of this trait Bulgakov never gave in to the political ideologies of his time.
He had to suffer under severe pressure for his resistance, though, put on him by comrade Stalin. The extraordinary attention Bulgakov gained from the Leader resulted not only in being bullied by secret agents, having his notebooks and manuscripts confiscated, plays taken off the stage just a couple of days before the show and almost all his friends arrested, but even in personal terrorising phone calls from Stalin himself. Imagine yourself being a writer, and say, Mr Gordon Brown calling you (too often) about a new essay or article you wrote (and no, I’m not comparing Stalin to Mr Brown, only in respect of grandeur). You can imagine what kind of moral pressure the writer was under.
It is worth contemplating why Bulgakov was ‘honoured’ with all that attention, instead of being sent to a concentration camp where many other dissident writers found their end. Stalin was probably impressed with Bulgakov’s writing talent and wanted to use it for his own purposes (but you can’t make the river flow backwards, can you?). The other possible explanation why Bulgakov’s life was retained is that Stalin needed to have an equal opponent to his ideas. By trying to break Bulgakov’s spirit, Stalin could prove to himself his own authority and power. But he never succeeded. Bulgakov eventually wrote the much wanted communistic piece, but unfortunately for comrade Stalin, he was not the hero of the work, more like an anti-hero.
Power is one of many themes that is to be found in Mikhail Bulgakov’s most famous work – The Master and Margarita. The structure of the novel is complex and multi-dimensional, coming off as a beautiful dance of several story lines that interweave with each other to form one harmonious image. Bulgakov cogitates about power and how it influences people today and in the past. The possession of power and how one uses it is crucial to the writer when portraying human nature.
Although the book is renowned for its ingenious political satire and rewriting of a Biblical tale, it can also be read as a romantic story about self-sacrificing love. The love between the Master and his Margarita is not just fiction and fantasy; the writer himself experienced a very passionate love affair and wrote this book as a mirror To his own life. But this is still not where The Master and Margarita stops unfolding its surprises…Sci-fi fans–this book is for you, too! Witches and the Devil, talking cats, magic- mystical powers of good and evil are all over this story. The book has strong connections to Goethe’s Faust and, similarly to the German writer, Bulgakov shows that nothing is one-sided, just black and white. The ‘negative’ protagonist (the Devil) is someone who connects the past, present and future into one accomplished picture. Certainly deeper than your usual fairy tale.
Bulgakov described himself as a mystic and satiric, and he lived and wrote up to that description. His work reflects his own time and life, retells the past, foresees the future, and not least – really opens us up for a discussion on human nature. With no doubt, Bulgakov possesses a great power over words and that is why everyone, who considers themselves a thinking being, should read this book. Take your time and stop the rush to think about life as Bulgakov did.
An art assistant’s diary
This time last year I sent an application for work experience to a contemporary art gallery. The gallery was the Georges Pompidou Centre of Contemporary Art, which is situated in the beautiful Lot valley in the south of France. Applying was a long shot; I didn’t think they would respond. But like magic, two hours and a reply later, my summer had been finalised. I had attained my dream internship. BY JESSIE RODGER
The Georges Pompidou Centre of Contemporary Art is an organisation created by the family and friends of Georges Pompidou in honour of the artistically supportive Prime Minister who had had a holiday home in the valley. Despite being less recognised than its counterpart (the similarly titled Parisian centre of contemporary art Centre Pompidou), with its spectacular location and unique plural gallery set up, it is certainly worthy of world fame.
June 2009 marked the start of preparation for the centre’s Contemporary Art Route that would be put in place across the valley for the summer. Entitled ‘World Watchers 3’ the exhibition would approach the ecological theme of ‘watching over’ our environment and world, and would be created by six international artists. I acted as a personal assistant to the invited artists during the preparation for this exhibition. I had the most amazing three months as an artist’s assistant and met some great people that I will never forget. Through this diary I hope to share some of that experience with you.
J’arrive!
I first arrive in the Lot valley with my Dad and an exhausted Ford KA. We have just made the long haul from deepest darkest Wales to the sunny south of France. Art is far from the agenda as we set off to find some good local cuisine. We discover a rustic restaurant hidden away in Saint Cirq Lapopie, a village nestled on top of one of the dramatic limestone cliffs of the valley. This village will be my home for the next three months. After enjoying some of the local specialities we are involuntarily included in an in-depth chat with the out-going restaurateur. When I reveal that I’m going to be working
at the Centre of Contemporary Art, opposite the restaurant, he looks at me with a shocked expression. ‘Theeere?’ he says ‘Oh. Good luck… They’re all off their heads over there’.
Et voilà, the first words I hear of the gallery, it certainly hasn’t helped my nerves. 
First encounter with a sea-mouse
On entering the artists’ residence for the first time the four other interns and I are greeted by a bizarre cry, ‘Sea-Mouse, Oh Sea-Mouse’. It’s the artist Marion Laval-Jeantet, one half of the duo Art Orienté Objet. She later explains that she couldn’t pronounce the name of the Irish artist Seamus Farrell, so has decided to call him Sea-Mouse instead. This memorable first meeting was to be a precursor of the quirkiness of things to come during our time with the gallery.
The next artist to appear is Seamus Farrell himself, an artist who works principally with glass. He immediately launches into one of his famous monologues, mandatory beer in one hand, fag in the other. Seamus is known for his ability to turn his hand to anything in the art world but with his philosophical mind and expressive capacity it was our discussions that I most appreciated.
The other artists, though somewhere in the house, were hidden away most probably avoiding the awkward first day introductions. Either way their absence gave them an element of mystery that made the next morning a much more intriguing prospect.
A prickly début
Today we finally get to work with the artists! Laure (a fellow intern) and I are appointed as Gilles Bruni’s assistants for the next few days. I’m excited, Gilles is a landscape artist and he’s created some amazing pieces in the past. For this exhibition he plans to create a sculptural installation at the mouth of an abandoned railway tunnel. This work will represent a journey through the different forms of transport the region has relied upon, culminating in a real car plunging into the depths of the tunnel. However there is a catch.In order to transfer the car to its position we will have to clear 2 km of vegetation from the abandoned railway track behind the tunnel, in three days.Suddenly being Gilles Bruni’s assistant is less exciting than it was a few hours ago. Without the correct tools I am knee deep in brambles, bleeding from the countless scratches up my arms and the sun is beating down at thirty five degrees. Sir Giles, as we like to call him, wants the three of us to accomplish the impossible, and I don’t know if we can do it.
With a little help from our French friends
Returning to our task is even more daunting this morning, but the locals seem to have caught wind of what’s going on. An hour doesn’t pass on the railway track without a few residents from the neighbouring village coming along for a sneak peak at what we’re getting up to with their tunnel. Josette and Odette, sisters from the old signal house, get us through a good half hour of clearing with the village gossip. Later on I look up to the chateau on the cliffs above us and the eccentric owner we’d met earlier blows us a lofty kiss. The Mayor of the village and his wife even appear through the undergrowth as the day wears on to spur us on. These welcoming interludes give us the motivation to continue and somehow we manage to complete Gilles’ work of art. It was ambitious and could not have happened without the boost in morale the villagers brought us all.
Lost in translation
Today I start as Akira sunrise’s aide, which is a much more calming experience than the few days I spent with Gilles. Akira is a Japanese musician in residency with the art centre and is rather lost as he doesn’t speak a word of French. I will help him communicate by interpreting his English to the French musicians he meets. Today we’re going to an old rural wash house to jam with a local saxophonist. This might seem strange as a location, but Akira likes to work with water in a natural environment when he makes music so it is perfect for him. I only have to interpret a few words between the musicians then it’s down to the music and I’m present for a very special exchange surrounded by dragonflies, water and rolling French countryside.Akira has a concert this evening and he delights the audience with the unique sounds he makes from his self-made steel percussion instruments. I film every second on his camera, proud that in some way I am playing a role in his world.
The impossibly possible
Since 7 this morning we have been up in the trees trying to wrap up a whole beech wood in pink wedding dress material. The duo Art Orienté Objet wants to create a big environmental present. Instead of wrapping the trees we are damaging them and the project has to stop. This failure means a loss of €600 for the artists but despite being a little down they are hardly fazed. After all, every single one of their other wacky ideas for this exhibition has somehow worked out. With the help of the local knitting club they managed to knit the skin of a life-size polar bear to create their sculpture ‘la Peau de chagrin’. Furthermore just yesterday the tree they had transported all the way from Cameroon in Africa was installed successfully in the local church where it was decorated with bicycle wheels. Today, I’ve had first hand experience of the fantastical nature of contemporary art. These artists conceive the craziest ideas that everyday individuals couldn’t think to put into practice. When they succeed in realising them they create something truly exceptional. I think that’s the beauty of contemporary artists, and contemporary art today; through bright ideas the ordinarily impossible is made possible, or at least sometimes it is…
NORTH, SOUTH AND ME IN BETWEEN
GLASGOW is the young Scot’s cultural capital, home of Irn Bru, legendary football teams and that statue with the cone on its head. The Highlands are home of Nessie, the few people who listen to Scottish Country music for enjoyment and, well, not much else. MEGAN DONALD
Despite these regions being the most violently stereotyped in Scotland, there is a certain level of truth behind the preconceptions. Being a fresher straight from the cozy comforts of Inverness (the capital “city” of Highlands), Glasgow is the hilarious antithesis of my hometown and the cultural differences have become obvious to me in my short time at uni so far. Before arriving, my impression of Glasgow was based on Still Game, Franz Ferdinand and a crazy auntie who added “hen” to the end of every sentence. It was a daunting and confusing prospect for someone from a parochial town up North and like everyone else I was thrown in the deep end of Glaswegian culture. This first thing i noticed was the famous language: I was bewildered by the speed of speech and the amount of words Glaswegians managed to fit into a sentence. And they do actually say “pure”. A perfect example was when I bought an ice-cream and asked for a nougat wafer. “Can I have a noo-gah please?” – “No, you can have a nugget,” replied the man. I had been put in my place and had been bitten by the sharp Glaswegian humour for the first time. Yet this was nothing when compared to night I unexpectedly ended up in a Rangers pub in Maryhill. I’d heard it was a bit “jakey” but not understanding the language down here, “jakey” didn’t help me. However, when I arrived, it was quite clear what it meant. It was Saturday night and as I reached the place, i heard the faint, painful mumblings of Islands in the Street on the karaoke (it was John, who I later learned was Maryhill’s karaoke extraordinaire) combined with wafts of spilt beer and fags. My friend warned me not to even joke about religion and to drink Tennents, “cos that’s all there is”. Jakey indeed. Overall it was a night of complete embarrassment for me: my different accent and inability to drink Tennents and generally understand the conversation didn’t exactly endear me to my new mates. But John did take pity and bought me some gin. Let’s consider now Inverness, the furthest North evidence of civilization in Scotland (No, Wick doesn’t count). Don the tartan trews, eat some shortbread, dance the gay gordons and stab a haggis! The “city” of Inverness is seen as the embodiment of all things Highland. The programme, “Monarch of the Glen” brought the Highlands to a mass audience and pulled in tourists wishing see the legendary Glenbogle. Exaggerated as this is, there are aspects which are verging on the truth. Many people do speak gaelic and we do like a ceilidh and a drink. This describes a particular type of staunch super- Highlander known as a “tcheuter” and the further into the Highlands you go the more fervently they cling to traditions. But this idealised version misses out the underlying character which differs so much from Glasgow. Whereas Glasgow is seen as friendly, open and honest, the Highlands are more secularized and unambitious. Highlanders are proud of being different and old-fashioned compared to the central belt; or maybe it’s just a combination of ignorance and unwillingness to change.
Attempts have been made to bring Inverness up to date by naming it a “city” when really it’s just a fairly large town. There have been half-baked redevelopments, new shopping centres and awful street art designed to define “what it means to be from the Highlands”. For example in the centre, blocks of Caithness stone have been placed in the middle of the road with “contemporary virtues the residents felt should guide the city” carved into them. Oddly enough the virtues chosen were, “Perseverance, Open-heartedness, and Insight”. (Personally, I think this is either ironic or very, very hopeful). It means the young Highlander like me is confused about their identity having being brought up with traditional values but is now being told to be thoughtful and have a modern, open view on life: Inverness is a city now! So when you ask a teenage Invernessian how they are, they are likely to respond, “Well, yur see-een it…” And what you are likely to see is a guy called Murdo wearing a pair of trendy jeans, edgy haircut and an iPod…but I bet they’re listening to Runrig. (Runrig is a fairly well known Scottish country band – they’re naff but a bit of a guilty pleasure!) Sometimes I feel like the Invernessian who managed to escape and I can’t believe how lucky I am to be in the big city. Eventually, I know I’ll adapt to the way of life in Glasgow after putting my foot in it a few times but I also know I’ll never completely betray my roots up in there in the Highlands.
Jumper? I barely know ‘er!
THIS STORY is about my flatmate Calum. You may remember him from such bars as Jinty’s and The Park, but he won’t remember you. Anyway, I thought it fitting to ask this warlock his views on male fashion and, in particular, about his cracking array of jumpers. The following is the fruit of thirty seven minutes of me,him, a Dictaphone and some firewater he picked up as ‘medicine’ for his cold. Make of it what you will.
ALI: Calum, would you give me your thoughts on your incredible fashion sense, please? You’ll be helping the male populace of GU, and Cally, if they fancy it.
CALUM: I don’t really think about fashion. I get like funny wee t-shirts with films and bands on and that. Like everyone does. But,ach. Sometimes I get T-shirts that look actually good. I am starting to grow up, I guess…But always with a jumper,not just bare arms. Not an option in Scotland.
A: You’d get beaten up in Newcastle for wearing a jumper.
C: Aye.
A: What aren’t you keen on in fashion for guys in Glasgow?
C: Meh, it’s the sportswear. The people in Edinburgh keep trying to propagate the myth that Glaswegians will kill you. The tracksuit isn’t helping us much. But the tracksuit is so ubiquitous, it’s such a part of our identity now.
A: I agree. We’re not collectively Usain Bolt. We are not.
C: Oh. And. Apparently. Being “geek “is “in” (Calum looks like his firstborn has been given the Nobel). I feel like the stopped clock is telling the right time, baby!
A: Yes! Yes, that is true. Geek Chic. Louis Theroux mentioned that he had seen Geek Chic in a bookshop, but “daren’t pick it up, in case anyone thought I imagined myself a chic geek.” Besides which, who is your jumper idol?
C: Well, I always thought Kurt Cobain had great jumpers. Or like rocking the cardigan look. But they’re all usually pretty raggedy.
A: The drizzle in Seattle, you see.
C: Fair enough wearing wrecked clothes. I mean, my jeans are on the way. But…mess has to happen organically, if you will. Or you can buy like Batman T-shirts already faded like you’ve washed them a 1000 times! Why would you do that? Do it and wear it for 13 years like my friend Greg did.
A: Which out of Superman and Batman do you like better?
C: Batman has the best villains. But if I had to be one, I’d be Superman. He gets his power from the sun! Batman has to work out and stuff. Balls to that. Oh, and have his parents killed. Superman just rocks up.
A: Yeah, Batman’s kind of a dick.
C: Aye.
NO.1 – VESTY JUMPER
A: Nice sweater vest,Cal.
C: Sorry, dunno the technical terms. I call it a vesty jumper. I normally wear it with this shirt.
A: Oh! Babycord!
C: What?
A: Yeah, like corduroy, but it’s really really skinny. So yeah, babycord.
C: Right. I saw a lecturer wearing this exact one! I was in Boyd Orr and I saw a man in – what did you call it – sweater jumper? Makes me look like a Rangers-supporting Geography teacher in his mid-50s.
NO.2 – LAGER TOP
C: I got it last Christmas. Came in a box; I don’t think I’ve ever had a jumper in a box before.
A: Deprived child.
C: I really like the brown…and then the dark brown. But if it was black, it wouldn’t work.
A: What’s your favourite memory of wearing it?
C: Ehhhh…Yeah,well, it’s my lager top. Hides the stains.
NO.3 – FISHERMAN’S SWEATER
A: This…just. Wow. I love this beast.
C: I’m not really sure where this one is from again. Reckon it was a XMAS vouchers job. I don’t really shop in Next. All clothes shops merge into one. That’s a great thing for your fashion article, eh.
A: Yeah, cheers. Where do you like wearing this anyway?
C: Spend most of my winter in that one. Saturdays and Sundays…you know. My Hangover days.
A: Yeah, I know. Saturday, Sunday … Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday….
NO.4 – ACTUAL FISHERMAN’S SWEATER
A: It looks like you’re from the Soviet Union.
C: I have a picture of Ernest Hemingway, and he is wearing something very similar. Makes me feel like Hem without having to grow a big beard.
A: Where did you get this bad boy?
C: Ach, well, when I moved to work in Barra, I’d mostly steal my granpa’s jumpers… they’re all thick and hairy, and I liked this one. It was good when I was on the beach at six in the morning.
A: Why the frick were you on a beach at 6am?
C: I was a shellfisherman.
A: A shellfisherman.
C: Aye.
A: I knew you lived there and poked around. But I didn’t… Jesus, a shellfisherman.
C: Mostly cockles.
A: You like cockles, do you?
C: Well, yeah, they pay the bills.
NO.5 – STRIPY DAVID TENNANT ONE
A: Stripes are good.
C: I’m always conscious that you can’t really wear green and white stripes here.And when I’m in Edinburgh, everyone thinks I’m a Hearts supporter…but I can live with that.
A: I can see that. So does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?
C: Judging by the evidence….no.
A: That’s about right. So, any final words of wisdom for the masses, Cal? Send your legions of new fans off into the battlefield with a witty aphorism?
C: Err…just…wear what you’re wearing.
INTERVIEW BY ABI L. GLEN
eBOOK-WORM
Iain Mitchell is puzzled about the eBook. If theoretically everyone decided that eBook readers were the way to go, surely they would be orchestrating the downfall of books as we know it?!?
On my last visit to Waterstones I noticed something that I’d never come across before in a book shop – an advertisement for electronic book readers, those oddities that apparently let you read books on a relatively gargantuan iPod-esque device. Though perhaps this wasn’t hugely odd in itself, it later struck me as peculiarly counter productive for a shop that deals with the physical object known as ‘book’ to be plugging something that renders such physicality unnecessary.
Admittedly, I hadn’t given much thought to eBook technology before, besides dismissing it as a surplus gizmo that was expensive and pointless, and a brief scan of the World Wide Web only served to reinforce my initial inkling. A brand new eBook reader capable of storing around one hundred and sixty eBooks will set you back near two hundred pounds; a seemingly silly investment when you could instead be spending that money on thirty books, if not more. And a quick dash to an online store confirmed my suspicion that the most popular eBooks (the Twilight series – let’s not get into that) were the same price as their physical counterparts, eliminating the one virtue I could think of, that with eBooks you could in theory eventually be saving money.
Recent news also fail to offer good publicity for the eBook phenomenon. Amazon was left red faced after they discovered they had accidentally put some legally unauthorised eBooks up for sale. Those unfortunate enough to purchase them beforehand and download them to their readers suddenly realised they had the books in question deleted without warning; surely quite the annoyance while halfway through Nineteen Eighty-Four!
But are these dismissals unfair? After all, 20 years ago we would have consulted the map in the glove compartment while marooned up the motorway rather than consult Sandra Sat-Nav, and bought our albums in HMV rather than download them on iTunes. Granted these are by no means fault-free either, after all it’s possible to lose music downloaded from iTunes if it isn’t backed up and anyone who has been overly-dependent on Satellite Navigation on a long journey can testify how bewilderingly useless it can become. But by and large these are innovations we have embraced, and surely now in 2009 if these novelties were suddenly wrenched away many of us would feel the loss?
In this era of technological splendour, why not let books succumb also? There are practical advantages of eBooks after all. For a start the convenience of having hundreds of books stored electronically would reduce the sheer mess that inevitably arises in the home of the keen reader (no more will that immortal phrase be uttered: “What on earth am I going to do with all of these Enid Blyton novels?”), as well as being good news for anyone who struggles to stuff the Norton Anthology of English Literature volumes one and two into their holiday suitcase.
And besides, as overpriced as I found the popular selections, there is a large selection of material online that costs nothing at all, such as books for which the copyright is expired and therefore falls inside the public domain. While it’s possible to read these for free on the internet using resources such as Google Books, surely reading it portably with a reader would be a far more practical and comfortable way to enjoy some Dickens?
As sigh inducing as it would be for some, perhaps having literature in an easily accessible (and occasionally free) electronic form would encourage more people to read in the first place? It’s certainly something that Nintendo seem to have caught onto with their ‘100 Book Collection’ for the DS which has lashings of Austen’s and Shakespeare’s stored on one tiny cartridge. eBooks aslo render self-distribution much easier for aspiring writers, making it possible for them to find an (albeit perhaps limited) audience they otherwise never would have.
Ultimately however, while I think the notion of electronic books isn’t without any merit, physical ownership just seems too important in our society for them to take over in a particularly meaningful way. Having a physical copy of something just seems far more meaningful, and we enjoy having things we can actually look at and touch. Having things done digitally may be convenient, but it takes away a segment of ownership that while perhaps superfluous, still remains important. For the same reason I don’t doubt that downloading music is a practice that will continue, but by no means are physical sales of records going to dissipate overnight.
Books (as in the paper bound with a spine, cover and back, not just megabytes) have been around for centuries. The Diamond Sutra, the believed oldest surviving book bares the date 868 AD, and in these 1141 years I don’t believe terribly much has changed. Besides, next time I’m at Waterstones attending Terry Pratchett/Stephen King/Katie Price’s new bestseller’s book signing, I fear I would look a bit silly asking them to sign my Sony Reader.
MAKE MINE A SKINNY WITH SUGAR ON TOP
There are very few women who have never thought of dieting or actually gone through with it. That’s because our rolemodels, the girls in beauty magazines and those posing with the new Aston Martin V8 Vantage don’t seem to have a problem fitting into size zero jeans or top.
But are the times a-changin’ ? STORY BY RENA SMITH
Mark Fast’s decision to use 3 ‘plus size’ models in his show of 20 this season was unprecedented. Not only because it showed that curvy girls can do fashion and body on at that. More, because never before had a designer so openly and constructively challenged the currently upheld fashion statute stating size zero equals size beautiful. And he didn’t even have them wear bras. The sight of size 12 model Hayley Morley striding down the catwalk was both a breath of fresh air and a slap in the face for editors, stylists and the like, who have long been ignoring the smell of vomit wafting from gaunt girls in studios and backstage dressing rooms.
Fashion “is about illusions and dreams”. So spoke Karl Lagerfeld, arguing perhaps that as fashion is an art like any other, we need to think of a model’s body as a canvas to materialise the workings of a creative mind. But does fashion really exist in such a vacuum? Top models are literally shrinking before our eyes as beauty is pushed to ludicrous extremes we not only accept as normal, but often strive to defend.
Against a backdrop of Third World famine, cases like that of Ana Carolina Reston in 2006, of international supermodels starving themselves to death, are both shocking and surreal. In two new Ralph Lauren adverts, models were airbrushed so much that their pelvises appeared smaller than their heads. Perhaps illusion and fantasy work when designers pen cartoons on the drawing board, but the models who are asked to embody that are real people. The girl in the advert may be a fantasy for some, but she she should not represent what is healthy or attractive. Disordered eating has become the norm for almost all young women, constantly counting calories and following diet after diet. Further down the line, the number of patients suffering from anorexia admitted to NHS hospitals has risen by a startling 80% in the past decade, with most being only 15 years of age.
It is widely accepted that it is easier for fashion designers to design for thinner bodies, because whatever exposes flesh is more difficult to pull off for bigger girls. To thwart this would hinder the creative process, but curves also possess design potential according to Fast; “the way I work is organic and on the body. With the curvier girls, I was able to make clothes specifically for them.” Fast also worked on the LFW exhibition All Walks Beyond The Catwalk. Rather than working in abstract from drawing boards, designers created pieces for designated models of sizes 8 – 18. The results were no less imaginative than a size zero show; in standardizing tiny frames, designers are just as hindered as if they were limited to size 12, suggesting industry change could be positive and lasting.
Mark Fast may have done something unprecedented, but he is certainly not alone; in June, British Vogue Editor-in-chief Alexandra Shulman called for an end to “miniscule” sample sizes being sent by designers for photo-shoots. It highlights how deeply set the problem is; Shulman said that we are now at a point where many of the
sample sizes don’t comfortably fit even the established star models. American Elle and German Brigitte are both making concrete moves to show more representative models in their publications too.
The answer may not be simply to throw bigger girls into the limelight; the University of Chicago’s Journal of Consumer Research produced an interesting study that showed that the majority of women respond more positively to seeing thinner models than heavier ones, either because they do not see themselves as similar to bigger girls or, when overweight themselves, they feel much too similar. As the campaign for normality on the catwalk kicks off, the body fascism of the past decades has evidently had a real impact; we are simply turned off by the kinds of figures we ourselves probably have, as too do our friends, colleagues, sisters and mothers, wanting instead to escape in fantasy and illusion.
The tiny frame of the top model has achieved almost a mythical status; Finnish top model and Glasgow University student Charlotta Poppius argues anorexic models are really only a minority; “in my experience most models are just naturally thin… People have different genes and different body types and accept yourself as you are naturally, whether that is curvy, chunky or thin.” While the sentiment is undoubtedly gallant, the curvy and the chunky are obviously far less visible on catwalks and billboards than the thin. And it seems an standardised image of the modelling industry that success means some degree of starvation; perhaps, if what Charlotta says is true, a democratization of the industry needs as much emphasis on just how natural being thin is as it does on how beautiful it is to be “chunky”.
In a highly traditional and elitist industry, size zero is also a question of status; Karl Lagerfeld sparked outrage and delight alike when he declared, “these are fat mummies sitting with their bags of crisps in front of the television, saying that thin models are ugly.” A size zero frame represents membership to a tiny class of people who have won the genetic lottery ticket in life, while Victoria Beckham has famously gotten thinner as she has gotten richer. Charlotta Poppius sums it up, “the definition of high fashion is that is exclusive, rare and desirable. And there is nothing wrong with that. Let high fashion be high fashion.” It would seem the idea of fashion opening its doors to bigger body types is a problem, not with bigger bodies, but with the doors opening at all.
Where do the illusions stop and delusions start? Fashion has oft revelled in the shock factor and pushing things to the extreme; the girls in Vogue and the like are almost sculptural in their honed, toned beauty. It is escapism from the reality of nationwide obesity if ever there was one, but we are bordering dangerously on a Jekyll and Hyde mentality. Anorexia should never be reduced to a problem of simple vanity; it is a complex mental disorder compounding issues such as a need for control and the desire to feel better than the rest. When Kate Moss tells us that “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”, though, the lines begin to blur between beauty and starvation. The fashion industry may be in the firing line but it is really the tip of the iceberg, with society at large having a lot to answer for too in what our notions of beauty really are and the way it affects how see ourselves and each other.
A breath of fresh air…
…is all you want after a good night out seeing unsigned bands that Glasgow music scene is renowned for. Breathe in deep then before you go and listen to one of these four gems that we have found for you because you are going to be dancing for a while.
WORDS BY ROSE HENDERSON
Brother Louis Collective
Brother Louis Collective are a Glasgow six-piece who formed around captivating front man, Louis Abbot, in 2006.
Making use of an exciting array of instruments including strings, clarinet and double bass, the band do not fail to impress. The combination of Abott’s prominent Scottish tones with the melodic voice of female singer Sarah Hayes provides a beautiful platform for projecting their heartfelt, honest lyrics. With words delving into friendships, family and life, these musicians seem not only intent on taking over our ears but also our minds and hearts. It is through this delicate mergence of voices and strings that Brother Louis Collective draw their audiences into a word of silent reflection, but just as easily snap them out again with an energetic and electrifying instrumental infusion. It is this powerful versatility that gives BLC their edge, and set them up as a band definitely worth catching live.
Currently recording their debut album, Brother Louis Collective can be found at www.myspace.com/brotherlouismusic.
Sounds like: enchantment and sentimentality laced with real life.
Nevada Base
Catchy, funky beats? Music you can dance to? Nevada Base have it covered. The 4-piece Glasgow band fuse an exciting combination of electro sounds which will have you shimmying around your bedroom within mere milliseconds. Since forming in 2008, Nevada Base have been churning out this addictive electro pop, gaining them comparisions to bands like Hot Chip and Friendly Fires. With influences such as New Order and Human League, it is easy to see where the band have found inspiration to create their own pulsing synth beats.
Not only content with producing these vibrant tracks, the band also fuel our thoughts with lyrics about love, life and “mysterious women from space”.
Nevada Base can be found on their impressively self-constructed website: www.nevadabase.co.uk.
Sounds like: electro-magnetic magic.
Skinny Villains
Skinny Villains are another 4-piece who are thrashing their way into our eardrums, striving to make their mark.
The band plan on causing a stir and want to “shake things up” on the Glasgow music scene. Their exciting, thrilling tunes make this something they are able to achieve, and puts them on the map as a band certainly worth giving a listen to.
Stating their influences as being bands such as the Libertines (along with Jack Daniels…), we can understand how these musicans came to produce such an energetic sound, capturing a lively atmosphere which gives the impression that they will be a powerful and intense live act.
Check them out at www.myspace.com/skinnyvillains.
Sounds like: four sweaty Scotsmen…
Vendor Defender
As far as vibrant, fresh new talent goes, Vendor Defender have it all. The three members came together in early 2008 and have since been creating their own unique brand of new wave, indie and pop.
It is this modern mix which gives the band their individuality, making them at once one of the most interesting and exhilirating new acts in a music scene dominated by bands which sound alike. Combine this with incredibly catchy tracks such as ‘Justin’ and ‘Dreamphone’, and you have band which seem almost unstoppable and entirely infectious.
Striking, exiting and most definiately unforgettable, Vendor Defender can be found at www.myspace.com/vendordefender.
Sounds like: Vendor Defender.
NOTES ON CAMPUS RESTARAUNTS
GUM went on a restaurant-crawl and looked around in the many food facilities of Glasgow University.
THE HUB (Laptop friendly!)
Despite the debate that has arisen over the modern shiny outside design of the Fraser building, this place is extremely popular among students. People come here for the great variety of meals and real comfy couches, and to soak in some warmth and brightness which, surprisingly enough, has been achieved in our Scottish climate thanks to clever interior design solutions. The place is packed with tables in all sizes, and the feeling you get in the Hub is an obscure combination of being part of a big student commune and having anonymity still (because the place is so overcrowded).
ONE A THE SQUARE
Somewhat hidden from the main torrent of students, the atmosphere at One A is professional and subdued. This is a place where you can catch a glimpse of your professors in a less informal milieu (well, as informal as one might get under neogothic arches of the main building). We suggest eating at A1 to rediscover your motivation for studying. The only thing that really strikes the aesthetics among us is the clash between majestic mantle-pieces and plastic chairs. It’s a sin that’s prevalent in all rooms of the main building.
JOHN MCINTYRE CAFE
Lunch at John Mac will be quick and convenient when you’re craving for a coffee+sandwich and don’t have time to wait in line. You’ll find an adequate amount of free seating and are able to do your seminar reading as you’ll hardly bump into any of your friends here. The building’s strategically located and has its own ATM! Make sure you don’t get run over by the door when you first try to make your way into the building.
ROOM IN THE LIBRARY WITH SOME FOOD IN FRIDGES
This is a last resort for the hungry during a period of essay deadlines. Self service, three different kinds of sandwiches and a vending machine with waxy apples. Not appetizing, but then again they say you work better on an empty stomach.
THE QMU ‘FOOD FACTORY‘
The Food Factory is a modest dining hall on the second floor of the QMU with no remarkable dishes nor conveniences. So leave your high expectations at the oversize baggage counter. The sandwiches can easily cause nightmares to some people but
warm tacos with cheese and those well baked potatoes might even be worth climing
the stairs. On another good note, the view over the campus is quite noteworthy and lunch here won’t chew up your student loan.
THE CRYPT (GUM’s favourite!)
Despite a bright yellow advert on University Avenue, not many people find their way into the Crypt in Wellington church. This well kept secret has a particularly dreamy and mysterious atmosphere supported by a low ceiling, dim lights and warm smiles of happy serving staff. The Crypt can boast with home made soups and pastries (prices are well under the campus average), but if the menu nor those friendly smiles don’t get under your skin, maybe the piano with a “Play me!” sign will.
GAMES DON’T KILL PEOPLE. PEOPLE DO.
ANDREW GALLACHER is a simple man who can handle four different types of guns and can run for hours at a time. On the computer that is. He explains why the fantastic virtual world cannot be blamed for sad happenings in the real life.
I have a confession to make. I have, as yet, failed to go on a killing spree. I haven’t even delivered a mild beating to anyone. I have also failed to defeat the Whermacht single-handed, repel any alien and/or demonic invaders, collect gold rings, search any castles for princesses or attempted to arrange a variety of oddly shaped blocks into rows as they fall on me from above to the sound of a catchy Russian tune. I haven’t become an Olympic skier either.
Which is odd as these are all activities which a lifetime of playing games should have habituated me into doing. Or so goes the reasoning of politicians, pundits and activists that flock to the scene of any tragic incidence of youth violence. As sure as the sun rising if there is a school shooting or teen murder there will be someone trying to link the killers actions to video games. The logic goes like this: many adolescents play games, some of these games depict violence in some fashion, occasionally an adolescent will commit an act of violence; therefore the playing of
video games by children and teens inevitably leads to violence. I ,who despite playing such games through my entire childhood have yet to commit a violent crime, am clearly an aberration. As are my friends. And their friends. Who am I to deny the mountains of data and scientific evidence that support this indestructible chain of logic?
Well then, let’s take a look at some actual facts. After the Columbine shooting the US Secret Service conducted a study on every school shooting known to have occurred in the States. They attempted to identify the characteristics of the attackers. They found some interesting results. Only 12% of attackers displayed an interest in violent video games. 24% were interested in violent books and 27% in violent movies. By far the largest type of media that attackers were interested in was the their own written word. 37% displayed an interest in violence in their writing in essays, poems and diaries. In fact the majority (63%) of attackers came from a stable two parent family, the majority (66%) were also receiving Cs or higher in their school work, the majority (63%) had no history of disciplinary problems. The largest group (41%) were considered socially ‘mainstream’ (which is to say that they were not considered to be on the fringe or outside of mainstream student social life). Statistically, the most likely candidate to commit a school shooting is from a stable family, is doing well academically, has no history of violence or interest in violent media and would be considered socially well adjusted. Not as simple as ‘violent games make violent kids’ is it?
I think that makes the point quite well but we should take a look at some data from the UK just to be sure. If video games lead to an increased tendency for violent behaviour then we should see an increase in violent crime rates over time. Let’s take a period of about 30 years. Games have been a part of mainstream society for that long and it’s long enough for an entire generation to have grown up from childhood to fully functioning (or in my case hopefully functioning) adulthood. In 1980 there were approximately 2 million incidents of violent crime in England & Wales. In 2009 there were approximately 2 million incidents of violent crime in England & Wales. Not exactly the collapse of society. Violent crime did spike quite sharply around 1995 for some reason but that was not the high point of graphic gaming violence. In fact, in terms of homicide, the sharpest increase occurred during the 70s with the incidence leaping from 8.1 homicides per million of population in 1970 to 12.5 homicides per million of population in 1980. The biggest game of the 70s was Pong. Does anyone believe that the advent of electronic ping pong would lead to a 25% increase in the murder rate?
I could continue in this vein for a while. I could point out that of the many scientific studies which have investigated the impact of video games on young people most have found no real evidence of a link between games and violence. I could make you aware of the fact that the handful that do show a link just happen to have been published by the same small group of people who have not exactly remained above reproach with regards to the reliability of their methods.
I could…well, you get the idea.
So what does cause these outbreaks of violence? The US Secret Service report did find some interesting common ground between attackers. They all suffered from extreme depression, they all found it difficult to cope with failure and they all had suffered some form of failure or setback prior to their attack. So individuals who, as result of their depression, place a low value on their own life and the lives of others suffer a setback. This exacerbates an already precarious mental state and, unable to accept responsibility for the situation, they seek revenge on those they believe have caused it. Of course this narrative is as simplistic in its own way as the one which blames games. I believe that in truth there are as many reasons as there are attackers, but to accept this is to accept that there is little we can do to control or predict these events.
And that is something that we as society have great difficulty with. Human beings have always and will always be violent. Competition for resources, fear of the unknown, jealousy, revenge and anything else you can think of can cause it. In the Western world we have managed to both minimize this violence in our daily lives while vastly increasing the potential damage a violent individual can cause. This is what makes these events so shocking. But you are still more likely to die in a car accident than be violently murdered.
Perversely, we accept the risk of a car accident because it is so common and fear the risk of a murder because it is so uncommon. Maybe instead of trying to control the uncontrollable we should work on fixing the easily fixable instead.
…LEGEND OF ZELDA! By Andrew Bianchi
An eerie calm haunts the chamber as you enter. Your eye is drawn towards the rock platform, perched precariously above a sea of magma. As you cross the stone bridge into the very heart of the volcano, the tension reaches an almost unbearable crescendo. But nothing happens. You look around tensely, allowing yourself a breath.
And then the floor of the chamber begins to shake. Your only way out crumbles into the fiery abyss as the creature bursts forth, its electric blue eyes locking onto you. It turns and opens its jaws to let forth a belch of flame. You grip the hilt of your sword and can’t help but smile. This dragon’s going down.
Hot stuff doesn’t really begin to cover it. And it’s only one of the many epic battles from fantasy adventure, ‘The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time’. Released in 1998 on the Nintendo 64 console, Nintendo’s first 3D entry in the popular Zelda series was met with both critical and financial success. Now, after more than 10 years and numerous sequels of varying quality, it is still regarded as a classic, and has lost none of its potency, and for lack of a better word, magic.
Ocarina is the story of a boy called Link. Raised and protected in an enchanted forest, he is forced to fulfil his heroic destiny of protecting a holy relic from sorcerer Ganondorf. Joining forces with the titular Princess Zelda, the pair set out upon a quest that will take them from sunken temples to scorching deserts, to the realm of the Gods, and even through time itself.
But why, you may ask, is a game in such a clichéd genre still so popular? The answer lies in its ability to offer a great many things to a variety of players.
The hardcore gamer seeks the familiar presented in a new fashion, which will hopefully take them a while to complete. Ocarina offers an engrossing story combined with a quest so demanding it takes weeks to finish. Mix this with technological features which shook the gaming world to its foundations – a targeting system that worked; context sensitive buttons which allowed the player to perform a different action using the same button in different circumstances; and to top it all, the ability to choose which button did what. These features have since become common place in third person adventures. But when Zelda came out it felt like a far more innovative and cool way to play.
To those less impressed with button pressing, Ocarina offered something else. A living, breathing world to lose yourself in. A world called Hyrule, complete with towns, cities, deep lakes and windswept deserts. A world still relatively large by today’s gaming standards. This world is something similar to those created by Rowling and Tolkien. But in this instance, you are not being led, but the one deciding which path to follow.
Perhaps more impressive than sheer scale is the game’s reliance on the player’s natural curiosity. Although the sweeping story gradually carries the player through the various landscapes of Hyrule, he or she is ultimately free to neglect his destiny and find something more fun to do. Thus when otherwise bored of demon slaying, you could spend an hour or two fishing on the shores of Lake Hylia, improving your aim with a crossbow in the shooting galleries or even risk a scorched pixel or two by taking part in the risky sport of bowling with bombchus – little mechanical bombs which scuttle towards their target once dropped. You could even take part in a race to free an abused horse from its cruel master, which both strikes a blow for virtual mistreatment of animals, and gives you a mode of transport for the rest of the game.
Many of these activities were, due to their lack of effect on the main quest, often overlooked by people who blasted through in a rush to complete. Thus players who took the time to explore the (virtual) world often stumbled across things they believed only they knew about. For the patient, curious or just downright stubborn player, Zelda keeps throwing surprises.
Whether you are battling the undead, catching the biggest fish you can, riding horseback into the sunset, travelling through time or, to top it off, musically mangling a variety of compositions on the titular ocarina, Ocarina of Time keeps knocking your socks off with its wit, imagination and sheer barminess. It stands alone amongst a sea of pretenders to its crown, and is responsible for the immersive virtual worlds which are now commonplace. Although time may not be kind to the graphics, the experience of playing makes Ocarina perfect for both novices and battle hardened heroes. The game lives very much up to its title. It is a legend.
STUDENT DATING REVISED
Dr. Love takes you on a journey of alternative romance across the city of Glasgow with first date suggestions that should or should not be taken seriously.
If you do happen to get the real(!) phone number of some girl at the QMU, you’ve only one shot to impress them. Don’t spend twenty pounds on a dinner+movie that won’t get you anywhere except closer to your overdraft limit, but find a surprising and memorable place to take your date to. In the words of the once famous romantic classic Marshall Mathers III: “Do not miss your chance [...] because opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo!”
THE MITCHELL LIBRARY
The Mitchell Library constantly hosts events such as the National Poetry Day Celebration with Hamish Whyte, Irish Family History Workshops and ‘This is Who We Are’ – Scots in Canada. Admittedly, these can be hit-or-miss dates depending on the depth and width (or girth?) of your date’s sense of humour and interest in their family history. What cannot go wrong, however, is sitting down behind the Mitchell Library public piano and playing some Liszt for your heartthrob.
BREAKFAST AT YOUR PLACE
If your kitchen at the student halls isn’t too much of a mess and you can manage to kick your roommate out for a 3 hour long morning run, why not go shopping at the nearest Tesco Express (or better yet, an organic food store) and bake some scones together for breakfast? You’ll find an easy recipe on the Internet, or in one of the ten student cook books that you got as a farewell present from your mum. Call your date over for 9am (or 10am if it’s a Sunday!) and try not to get too wasted the previous night. This could turn out to be the start of something beautiful.
PROPER DANCING
Do you think you can dance? Chances are you don’t know yet, because you have never tried to jive outside your secondary school’s compulsory dance lessons. Give it another go with your possible future life partner. You can either take one of the many independent dance classes in the city or attend lessons on campus. And the best thing about it is you’ll learn right from the start if your love could step on your toes during your wedding waltz or glides like a graceful swan.
QUIZ NIGHT OUT
A Pub Quiz is a good choice for a date if you want to make sure you’re not wasting your time on a total numpty. Equally, if you like to show your intellectual dominance over your significant other, the seemingly very trivial quiz can lend a helping hand. But be warned – you cannot prepare for these quizzes and could end up looking like an idiot yourself by shouting out the names of all the Eastenders or the Celtic U-19 team (and nobody cares about your knowledge of Proust). Luckily you’re in a pub and a couple of pints will alleviate your unease.
NECROPOLIS
Yes, Necropolis is the cemetery very close to Strathclyde University in the city centre. If you plan to take your date there, don’t tell him or her in advance because, frankly, it would sound weird and they’ll think you’re a twisted Twilight-fan. Instead, propose a late evening walk around the city and subtly guide your date up the hill towards Glasgow Cathedral. The beautifully lit Necropolis will lure you closer in the dark and you’ll be holding each others hands for comfort sooner than you can say: “Boo!”
