Views from the Ouse

Let’s all go win the Roses! WHO’S WITH ME? Well, THAT went well, didn’t it?

Christ. Thanks to the delayed nature of print media, that little proclamation came out about two days AFTER Lancaster managed to give us more beats-per-minute than Phat Fridays.

Luckily, this week’s screed is on a far less flexible topic – exams! Everybody’s talking about exams – friends, acquaintances, local wildlife. Burgeoning alien civilizations are sending probes out to Omicron Persei VIII to ask how many exams they’ve got this week.

JB Morrell is our prison, and the entire student body’s taking part in one big re-enactment of The Shawshank Redemption (with several added hours of clawing through sewage, and no redemption). Unfortunately, the Library Cafe wouldn’t let me pay for my Coke in cigarettes, but at least you’re significantly less likely to get shanked.

Unless you’re a first year. “First Years Don’t Count!” goes the usual mantra (well, presumably unless they do Maths). Granted, you just have to pass your exams and none of your marks actually count towards your degree, but, I’d at least like to maintain the illusion that I spent £9,000 this year to DO something. Something that doesn’t start with “downing a glass of”.

(On a side-note, don’t you DARE venture into the library if you’re an A-level student, or I think your head gets put on a turnstile as a warning to others.)

It’s competition for seats that’s the cause. I think you can only get a box-chair in Morrell through right of succession after the last king dies. Even regular seats are all but gone after 9am, often by poor souls that’ve just revised themselves clean out of existence. They’ve left their stuff behind, though. It’s almost like they’ve left (but they haven’t, of course. That’d just be a dick move).

And then there’s those people who need to heed the hallowed words of Samuel L Jackson and Go The F*ck to Sleep. They’re usually found slumped over a desk or, in one memorable occasion I saw on the way home, on the bridge outside. I briefly debated throwing some loose change in the girl’s laptop case, but decided that’d probably be mean.

To sum up, best of luck out there and I’m sure you’ll do fine. Which probably means you’ll be beaten horribly by a bunch of people from Lancaster. Try not to squirm too much.

One comment

  1. Yeah I think you missed the boat on this one, champ. Better luck next year.

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