- Red faced and shins grazed, and the end of a chance.Written by Jack CowellLet’s get down in writing thoughts on the apology, to all those whom he has wronged during the incumbent coalition, issued by Nick Clegg. The apology itself has been a…Be the first to comment! Read more...
- The North-South DivideWritten by Jessica BaggaleyThe north-south divide represents the folded crease in our country. Imagine England as a sheet of crisp white paper; at the top printed in large letters is ‘rain, Greggs and…Be the first to comment! Read more...
- Leeds Invade SheffieldWritten by Christopher ClarkeClick Here to Book NOW (Only £22 for travel club entry, free t-shirt and bar tour rep) Are you ready to invade Sheffield? Featuring tonnes of like minded invading…Be the first to comment!
- The X Factor and Other Mind Numbing ThingsWritten by India JohnsonSo, it’s that time of year again. The time when the air starts to feel slightly crisper, freshers start circulating flu, and the country’s most desperate, fame-hungry, shallow morons come…Be the first to comment! Read more...
- A Digital GodWritten by Christopher Gennard‘God answers kneemail’ The above claim was written on a poster outside a church. It is absolute nonsense. Has God now been replaced by the magical divinity of cyberspace? Stop…Be the first to comment! Read more...
From past experience, I tend to find BBC3 documentaries a bit less than inspiring. On the one hand, I found Russell Brand’s From Addiction to Recovery captivating - yet rather inconclusive. On the other hand, watching Stacey Dooley’s assessment of Peruvian coca plant growers as ‘helping families pay the ‘leccy bill’, made me want to knife out one of my own vital organs and sell it on the black market to raise some money for these poor Peruvian families. Not to escape the lower rungs of the cocaine production trade, but more importantly to avoid another painstaking interview with Dooley.
When taking the step from student life to graduate living at home, there were obviously things I knew I was going to miss. Independence, going out, and ‘free money’ - is but to name a few. It’s not all downhill, though. Earning money, living in a house with a full fridge, an ironing board, and moving out from a road which once boasted the status of ‘most burgled street in England’, are certainly no bad things. However, it’s only upon leaving the student bubble that I’ve come to realise the things I didn’t know quite how much I was going to miss.
Every so often there is something in the media world that will capture the attention of the internet and spew so much social commentary it’s as though the vomit scene from 'Bridesmaids' has been embodied into internet opinion. Miley Cyrus has recently hit the limelight for her new-found love to ‘twerk'; manifested prominently in her We Can’t Stop music video and recent performance at the VMA’s, in which Miley strutted around in heels and shiny underwear, shaking that. Consequently this has provoked numerous reactions from each end of the spectrum. This commotion has found its way into my internet usage via a host of Youtube recommendations, endless tweets and Facebook statuses. Not to mention the comparison between her bum and a raw turkey. Yup.
And perhaps, so what? Miley may only be 20 but Rihanna was only 22 when she released Rude Boy. Christina Aguilera was only 22 when she released Dirrty, and Gaga has been dancing about in her bra and pants since the age of 22 as well. Pop music has focussed on sex for years, and whilst these singers have certainly received their share of judgement and criticism, Miley-twerk-gate seems to have been subject to a fiercer spate of criticism. And here’s why I agree.
In a recent discussion about festivals, some friends and I were reminiscing over some of our darker memories. Whether it be rain, vomit, or falling asleep to the soulful lullaby of someone urinating on your tent, a girl in the discussion who had never been to a festival couldn't quite believe that people will shell out hundreds of pounds for the privilege of this experience. The prices you pay to attend does provoke a pretty strong determination to have a bloody good time, so here is a short list of things to help you on your way…
E4’s Made in Chelsea may have been given a lot of stick over the years, but in light of its recent BAFTA win for ‘Best Reality and Constructed Factual Programme’, I think it’s about time we all took it a bit more seriously. Let's take a long hard think about the lessons we can learn from our ridiculously posh friends.
From the 3rd – 6th May, Live at Leeds will be taking over the city to offer a Metropolitan Music Festival put on across a variety of venues, offering to celebrate a combination of established musicians with upcoming local bands. As students, it doesn’t take much persuasion to ditch the revision and pick up a pint even on an average day. Throw in the words ‘bank holiday weekend’ and suddenly a hint of sunshine demands BBQ panic buying, ‘a few drinks’ becomes a four day hangover, all whilst tumbleweed rolls quietly through the library.
What more could you ask for, then, than a four day music event all, based in the heart of the Leeds? Not bloody much, that’s what.
Posting a Facebook status has become this weird modern day phenomenon with no real earlier equivalent. Previously, the ability to declare statements to the world was a far more selective process, and for good reason too. I can’t imagine there was many a town crier shouting to the masses what he had for breakfast or that he can’t be bothered to write his essay. It can be a troubling experience deciding whether your daily musings are good enough to share to your 600 “friends” but, fear not, help is at hand as I run through four statuses that should be avoided more than a man wearing sandals with socks.
Being online at the same time that it was announced Margaret Thatcher had died was a bit like entering a surprise party: lots of people desperate to jump up and down, shout, and generally make a lot of noise (without really saying, well, anything), whilst you just stand there not really sure whether to laugh or cry.
Is it just me, or is there something about being a student which means the concept of money is completely and utterly lost? I don’t just mean in terms of adjusting to a student lifestyle, but more of the priorities of spending which we students tend to adopt. It is no longer a case of whether you have any money, but how much more debt is available in that oh so coveted student overdraft.