Conforming to Stereotype
To become an Oxford Hack, one must content oneself with having friends in a purely professional capacity. This is not necessarily your fault, your time is merely taken away from you and redistributed to your two main tasks - establishing your 'slate', and denying the existence of your 'slate'.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. First you must decide which type of hack takes your fancy - the Greater Union hack, or a Lesser-Spotted JCR hack. The JCR hack is definitely the softer option. Around ninety per cent of the people who nominate themselves for JCR committee posts do so because they don't have a house to live in next year. Again, not their fault - housing decisions seem to happen earlier and earlier each year (I had to hand in a deposit shortly after GCSEs). The other ten per cent thought they were signing up for 'Salsa society'.
The lustrous jewel in this particular crown is JCR President. Whereas most electoral races boil down to popularity contests, this one is more an unpopularity contest - with the JCR voting for a candidate because they either a) want to see them fail their degree or b) want to make absolutely sure that there's still no chance of them living together next year.
And for that election speech, a few choice phrases: First, "I love (insert name) college" - this makes for a good opener, even though it's probably a lie, and you didn't even apply there in the first place. Secondly, "I will do my best to represent the interest of the JCR" - vows to represent the interests of the Nestlé Corporation are amusing but ill advised. And remember - once elected, just sit back and don't do a damn thing. Hey, you got your room, didn't you?
To squeeze yourself between the moist thighs of the Oxford Union is much more time consuming. Forget about your degree for a start - Tony Blair didn't get where he is today by reading a bunch of pussy books.
Instead, you must become an expert debater. For example, when replying to a point of information, be lucid, concise, and charming; do not accuse the informant of being a 'kiddie fiddler'.
Ignore everyone at your college until Election Day - but then don't go and blow it by saying the words 'election', 'vote', or 'me' above a murmur. If you do so, the Union Undercover Nob Police will emerge from the shadows and pummel you into submission with their own self-importance. Therefore, be imaginative: campaign with semaphore. From the moon.
Oh, and it really helps if you get yourself a silly surname. People always vote for the ones with silly surnames.
If you should climb the greasy ladder all the way to the President's office - a gold encrusted tower in the Cotswolds (did you really think all your membership fee was spent on those term cards?), you will join a long-line of great men and women, and can continue the construction of the giant laser that will one day be used to destroy the Sun. Isn't politics fabulous? Cartoon: Ed Scott
18th Oct 2001