Opinion
Firstly a huge thank you to Mr Paul Campy, a man who works far to hard and puts us all to shame. Thank you for your immense understanding and patience over the entire year and especially this term. Thank you for not shouting too much when the paper was 'almost finished' on a Wednesday, for spotting those libeltastic stories and keeping us out of trouble. Thank you for a million other things that I can't remember. We literally couldn't do it without you. To Richard, for being the best Advertising Manager ever and the most promising hack of our generation, OUCA's loss was our gain! Conservative Future?...
Columns: This week: ...is watching you
Towards the end of Trinity, just as term begins to drag just a little, most people try to come up with those little diversions which ease the mind and help the traumas and tribulations of seventh and eighth weeks pass with as little pain as possible.
Columns: eyes wide shut
Not all snooping need be done by eye, however. Most students tend to realise within the first few days of university life that all they really need for a rivetting evening's worth of spying is thin walls, noisy neighbours and good ears.
Columns: Bitesize
Food in the Raw
Columns: columninches
Write something uplifting," the Editor said. I survey the room in search of inspiration, and spy, through bleary, smarting eyes, the remnants of the night before strewn across my bedroom floor: high heels, laddered tights, half-eaten can of mushy peas. I do not feel uplifted.
Columns: wisewords
There are times when life is almost too much to bear. Last Sunday was one of those days. At 10.45, I went to the JCR to watch the coverage of the England-India World Cup game. Except I didn't watch it. Because the BBC has cleverly spent 99% of the licence fee on BBC News 24, it has lost the rights to almost everything of importance. And my college sadly features people who don't realise that the only point of a JCR is to have Sky Digital and a widescreen telly. That's it. Bugger welfare and crappy bops and academic affairs. Sky. That's all you need. It's not asking a lot, especially considering Murdoch went there. But no. So we went to the Union. It was closed. We went to Bar Oz. It was closed. Oh I forgot. This is England and pubs don't open till 12. Why? No-one knows. So Will said we should go to Vinnie's, a very up-its-own-arse sports bar. It was open. Yes. It had a telly. Thank God. It didn't have Sky. Arse. So having gone halfway across town, we went halfway back, to the Union again. It was open. Can we watch the big screen? Yes. Great. But I can't find the key. Fuck. So we waited twenty minutes while she didn't find the key. So we went to the Old School pub; however, it being 11.59, they quite reasonably wouldn't let us in. Then, by some fluke of chance, I ran in to a mate from St Peter's, so we watched it there....
Columns: OxStu obsessions
Each week in a modest upstairs room on St Aldates a dedicated team of professionals work around the clock to give the people what they want. As you may imagine it takes Cahunas the size of church bells to survive as "The Independent Oxford University Newspaper since 1920."