There are those who call me "the Bandit"
So, it being a solid two weeks(ish) since the last posting, I'll try to get things going again here. I have, after Turkey Day, just returned to classes and Greek midterm part dieux. I like to pump myself up for exams with the Ben Folds song "I'm gonna rock this bitch" (assuming I can use that word here, following Chelsey's lead on 'Warmed-over Soapboxes'), but it is not always with actual confidence that I tell myself that. Sigur Ros gets me pumped for exams, too, but I don't know how to sing along to them yet. Now, some would say that learning dead languages is not the most practical undertaking, and at best you end up with some esoteric knowledge that you really shouldn't make a big deal about knowing, lest you be "one of those" people. You know who I mean. That said, I think Greek is really fun. I am surprised to say it is my favorite class. I am planning to take our buddy Philpott's favorite next fall, and will take Hebrew at some point, too. Not quite sure for what purpose I am putting myself through all this, but it feels important now as I am doing it.
I had the fam come out for Thanksgiving (first time in four years I've spent the holiday with them) and everyone made the trip down from New York, where we were staying, to see my rockin' Jersey abode. BTW, anyone nearby is more than welcome anytime. You can see all there is to see in Princeton in a couple hours. Princeton Seminary remains a fun place to be. Having gone as an undergrad to a non-drinkin' closet-fundamentalist Christian college that didn't allow dancing , and certainly not parties (not that any of you would know anything about that), being here is a bit like having the fun undergrad experience I missed out on. Not that I didn't have fun at Biola, but it is nice to be treated like an adult and take advantage by acting a bit of an adolescent. I do quite a lot of studying, too, although as I said before it's not nearly as hard as Oxford. Today I played croquet on the quad (British friend killed everyone), last week built a snowman using imported snow, went to a fun Seminary dance-party, rocked some foosball, and had a DIY brew-and-view of the Bob Dylan PBS special that I just got on DVD. I am currently growing the beard out again in observance of a long-standing PTS tradition, the upcoming "Burt Reynolds Day," for which participating men grow out their beards until the appointed day, then shave off everything but the infamous upper-lip facial hair. The really hardcore guys keep the 'stache for a few days, although one of my friends already went the entire month of October trying to bring back the look sported in the Beastie Boys "Sabotage" video. Ladies have, in the past, celebrated Lonnie Turner Day in conjunction with this holiday. I'll be sure to send some pictures, although you've all seen the full beard action (I guess some have seen only that). It is growing in much more quickly this time around, so five years makes a difference. This does not bode well for the future growth of body hair in less desirable locations (no ear hair yet!) I can't wait to be fifty, that will be awesome.
Well, I have fulfilled my random babbling quotient for the time being. Hope to hear more from you all.
In which I toss in my lot with Turl Street
I hadn't heard of the Society for the Destruction of Keble, so I decided to look it up...
Most people have heard the mythical story of the Nick-A-Brick Society - a secret Oxford society whose members are some of the illustrious few to have stolen a brick from Oxford's favourite Dickensian nightmare - Keble College. Of course, causing the architectural destruction of Keble is not something that should qualify you for membership of a society, it is something that should qualify you as having good taste.
Execution: This is probably best performed at night, largely because the kind of person who thinks it's a fantastic idea to get absolutely mashed in the middle of the day is unlikely to able to negotiate his way to Keble let alone partake in a clandestine crusade for its dismantling. Once the college has been infiltrated, all that remains is to find a loose brick in one of the walls. Alternatively, use a hammer and chisel to get one out.
Crowd: None necessary, given that the proof is the brick itself. However, a crowd is likely to develop if you start chiselling the brick out of the wall. At this point you should remember two things: 1. Answer all questions with "I'm fixing the connection". No one will care enough to bother questioning you further and all will be grateful for any attempt to make the internal phone network slightly less shite. And 2. Do not wear your college scarf. This is probably sound fashion advice too, but this is a town in which people turn up in black tie to Park End, and wear rowing gear 24 hours a day, so it is likely that no one will have pointed this one out yet.
Happily, there's
much more:
This week’s auction of Brasenose on eBay was not an original prank on the part of Lincoln student, Dave Green. Balliol did it first. [...]
Such inter-college rivalry is very much a part of Oxford life. The Society for the Destruction of Keble supposedly offer a drink at the Lamb and Flag for any student who can present one of the college’s dark red bricks. The darker the brick, the better the prize. Barely a week goes buy without an attempt by some rugby team to steal their nemesis’s tortoise, or an advertising board proclaiming that a certain college blows ‘that’ goat, or even a JCR President declaring his intention to “burn Catz to the ground”. New College have so far denied involvement in the recent spate of arson at nearby Wadham.
However, whilst last week’s Turl Street Dash resulted in a scuffle between Exeter and Jesus students, again the events pale into comparison with those of our predecessors. The ‘Turl Street Riots’ of 1979 made national headlines. The battle, which lead to numerous injuries and arrests began as a drunken pact against Exeter by Jesus and Lincoln students during a traditional singing contest in the Mitre Bar. Missiles of water, milk and flower [sic] and even the arrival of college authorities were unable to deter an attack on Exeter’s front gate. But as two police vans, five police cars and three fire engines, responding to alarms set off, arrived on the scene, Jesus students had managed to lever open a window into the college and were wreaking havoc within using fire extinguishers, fire crackers and smoke canisters. In the ensuing melee, several students were dragged into the college pond and a toilet was damaged.
And,
most recently,
The JCRs of Exeter, Lincoln and Jesus have united in retaliation against an article printed last week in The Oxford Student entitled “What's the point of... Turl Street Colleges”. [...]
Ollie Munn told Cherwell, “When the story appeared, reaction in College was divided. There were those in Lincoln who thought we should pick a fight and take on the OxStu. And then there were those who thought we should just massacre the scoundrels, one by one.” He added, “Lincoln’s been at war with Brasenose since about 1549 – we know a thing or two about conflicts.”One of the article's main criticisms was that “someone needs to reassure Turl Street's inhabitants that the air is breathable beyond the safe confines of that cosy road.” Pull said of Exeter's perspective on the newspaper's attack, “OxStu will regret this – we will take them down brick by brick if necessary, even if it means stepping out of the confines of Turl Street.”
One Jesus second year said in defence of his turf, “I love Turl Street; it’s small but perfectly formed, more than can be said about the OUSU buildings.” Munn continued, “The OxStu can bring it on. We’ll show them what Turl Street’s made of. Tarmac, mostly.”
Love the new frequent stops!
...although I must say I was dissapointed when I saw that the blog had been updated yesterday, yet there were no new postings. Then I saw them. Now I know what the traffic looked like from Carfax Tower a few hours ago (was that the old tower on Haymarket, or was it somewhere else?), learned that an Oxford student survived his (drunken?) jump from the roof of his college with only minor injuries, posted on one of Chelsey's other blogs (I remain monoblogous, but I don't judge your promiscuity -- cf. my comment re: peanut butter on 'warmed over soapboxes'), and best of all (*sniff*) saw what's going down at Oxford pubs this week. Man I could go for a visit to the Turf right now (or Eagle and Child, Lamb and Flag, Three Goats Heads, Hobgoblin, Royal Oak, King's Arms, White Horse, Mitre, Bear, Keble Bar, Trout, Perch, Freud, Jude the Obscure, or Oxford Union -- but not the Gardener's Arms, the lady was mean to me)! Princeton has some decent pubs, and the 'D-Bar' is cheap, but they don't compare.
I spoke to Nicole for 2.5 earlier today (she's been using the calling cards, and can't talk long, but it's much appreciated), and seeing the new links reminded me of our Oxford pub crawl and late-night Hussein's run back in July before I returned to the States. I had forgotten how British her intonation and mannerisms are now. Made me smile :)
Also, a visiting grad student here at PTS from Aberdeen went to Oxford as an undergrad, and he has been an excellent friend with whom to indulge my anglophilia. Also, I was the first to tell him about the Society Dedicated to the Destruciton of Keble College at Exeter (or was it Balliol?) College. Glad I picked up in three months some random info real-deal Oxfordians missed in three years. For anyone who doesn't know the story of the SDDKC: one year membership for one red brick, lifetime membership for one white brick, society president for a blue brick (good luck with that one). Okay, enough randomness for one night. But midterms are over now, so I am allowed to waste a little time on a Friday night. Not that any use of my time could be more edifying than posting on this esteemed blog.
