Hi there,

There are two sorts of people in this world. Firstly, there are those people who like to complete lists.

Craig

Damn it Craig. Be better.

Since we last spoke, I have left St. Anne's forever. I realised why I wasn't all that upset or wierded out at the end of term: I am ready to move on. This happens at every stage of my life, normally just before relevant exams start, so that it happened in the post-exam period this time around is a bonus.

I spent a couple of days in Wales, and then a couple in York visiting my brother. I noticed one very odd thing. A group of his friends get together, and one of them says "lets do this thing, at this time" and everyone else says "OK" and then they end up all doing it. Wouldn't that be an interesting way to live? The other thing that I learned is that everyone he knows, more or less, are musical taste clones of each other. I don't know why Apple haven't released an iPod that already has the albums of Keane, The Bravery, Kasabian, the Kaiser Chiefs, and whatever other fashion band happens to get a bit of Radio One airplay that month. It would save everyone from the effort of having to rip the exact same CD collection to the identical playlists. In the mean time, there would be blank iPods....

Wait, let me just do this. Walking down the street today, I dropped my iPod and it scratched. Now all my music skips. This was really annoying because I also ripped all my CDs too thoroughly, and now they're all blank.

...blank iPods for those of us who actually give a shit. The Bravery are from New York, The Bronx are from New York. One plays shit-hot hardcore punk, they rock and sweat and bleed their music. In the meantime, the other has a big label album, a slot at a large summer festival, and whine like the little bitches they are. Who makes these fucking decisions?

I had to do a couple of night shifts last week. They are fine, but it isn't going to last, so I've got a new job at Allsports. It's pretty OK, especially if I can get the hours. Otherwise, I'm going to be one poor student next year. On the plus side, I might not get a good enough grades to carry on next year, so I will then have more time to find some corporation or investment bank or consultancy firm to sell my soul to.

Craig

Hey,

Me and the other Craig went to Intrusion last night, the Oxford Goth night. I am very thankful to Rox for doing our make-up. I was convinced doing nails would be easy, but apparently not. ("Have you done them before?" "No." "Sit down.") To check, this morning I tried doing them again on my own, and didn't manage to touch them once. I did however draw a road map of central Milton Keynes down my left arm. I am glad that I decided not to have a line drawn across my eye or on my chin, because according to some people I met, snipers use those lines to line up with their crosshairs.

Anyway, we walked down the road, and were saw by everyone I had ever met, including my grandmother who was lost and in need of sustenance. We had no time to help and pressed on, firmly, getting odd looks. One look in particular was very odd: it had no face. The club was in the Cellar, which is at the top of some stairs that slope downwards. I went to charge the lady on the door for letting us in, but she asked first, so I paid.

I am glad we made an effort with the clothes and makeup. Some people were not wearing makeup, but at least had some clothes. Worse were those not wearing clothes, only some make-up. Thankfully, the makeup was of a pair of jeans and a shirt, though they were a bit baggy and made of polythene.

I got asked before we went what sort of music was going to be played. There was a lot of industrial music: a whole half an hour section was off a sampled recording of a crane moving a series of girders into a pyramid shaped stack. The DJ was a big fan of remixes. There was a version of the Beatles "Eleanor Rigby" mixed with a faster beat, which finished first. There was a lot of food provided by the club, such as swiss rolls and cookies and jam tarts, which were remixed with a faster beat and ending up as Yorkshire pudding.

We came home at half one, half lion, and I went to sleep to dream of ways to write about the entire night.

Speak soon,

Craig

Hey,

It's a very odd feeling, when you can't force yourself out of bed, no matter what. I couldn't even make myself get up to watch TV or anything. I am bereft of purpose. I am also bereft of porpoise. If anyone finds it, would you post it to me. Ta.

So, after a month and a half of neglect, both this and the Project will be restarting usual service. Expect the following: insights, commentary, wit, satire, life-affirming stories of human endeavour, and poorly illustrated drawings of aqautic mammals. Not neccesarily in that order, or even here.

Been working on a script for the freshers next year, about living at St. Anne's. I am not what could be called a "person who likes anyone elses ideas all that much really". I just find it easier when everyone, you know, nods and agrees with me. I don't see as that is too much to ask. Anyway, its coming along nicely, though we need to write in some more before we start filming. Most of it will probably be filmed in minus oneth week, which is an interesting idea because I don't know if I'll be here. I could, in fact, be entering the last ten days of being a student. I'm not ready to give it up yet. There is...more... that I want to do.

The OFS shows next week will be great. We're even going to try a slightly different format for the second set, of which you'll just have to come along and watch to find out about. Yes indeed. Its going to be a challenge, but in a good way. Rehearsal last night was excellent, I was just so glad to get back into it. And I won't be at all happy if I have to stop this year.

Speak soon,

Craig

OK, here is the things. I'm all done tomorrow at 12.30pm. In all honesty, as I've told several people, I don't want anyone there. The only person who I would want there, isn't in Oxford. Meet Dave and Phil, an hour before, go to a pub, and I'll join you there. I haven't even decided if I'm leaving by the Finalists exit yet, so it would be a waste of time.

Many thanks now.

We have a punt from 4pm. I reckon it's about full. So, if anyone wants to come with us, book another.

And finally, the Imps are at the OFS all of 8th week (Tuesday until Saturday) Book tickets. You won't find anything better in all of Oxford. K? K.

Craig

Hey,

There's not been much posting recently, for the obvious reasons that revision and exams has taken over my life. I had two yesterday, which went OK. I annoyed with myself for some parts, which I know I could have answered better, but in general I don't think they were horrific. At the back of my mind is the niggling worry that They Need To Be Better Than OK, if I want a place for next year.

But what I really wanted to share is the following. There is a joke, called The Aristocrats. It's been around since maybe the 1920s, or possibly earlier. The beginning and end are the same. ("A family walk into a talent agent...." "The talent agent sits their for the longest time...") The middle bit is up to the joke teller, where he fills in the details. In fact, it becomes a complete anti-joke, because the punchline isn't funny, and doesn't make any sense. "Getting" the joke involves realising this, and realising it's really just an excuse to come up with the most overblown, filty, grotesque act imaginable. It was apparently also used by older comedians to bully a newer comedian into thinking he wasn't funny because he didn't get it, just before he went on stage.

Anyway, a film has been made, which was shown at 2005 Sundance Film Festival, where 100 comedians do their version. Eddie Izzard, Robin Williams, George Carlin, Steven Wright, there all in there. And there's a South Park contribution, which just happens to be here. Download it and watch it, but only if you're not easily offended. Then show it to your mother.

Speak soon,

Craig

Hey,

Final imps show before exams and things, so if you fancy a good evening's entertainment, you know where we are.

The Trivium gig was pretty outstanding. Their set was awesome and I need to pick up their CD. My neck about came off, and the ringing died down sometime next Thursday. They did an encore and played Maiden, Metallica and the riff from 'Walk', before their final song. Three Inches of Blood were good and bushy beared, like all Canadian's should be. I've heard them described as battle metal, and with songs like "Destroy the Orcs", I kind of see why. The lead vocalist had spikes all up his left arm. Spikey equals greatness. Metal is simple like that. Anyway, they got the order right for this three way headline tour show, with the best definetely being last. Still Remains are good in the "yeah, I like metalcore" rather than "yeah, I like you specifically" though their closer was a lot punkier sounding, and meant they left on a high.

The new System of a Down song brings the choiceness. It's called "B.Y.O.B", and its System at their schizophrenic best. Here for a streamed version.

Oh and girls, I looked up Rufus Wainwright today and went to his site. I've got to say that I'd fuck him.

Craig

Hey,

Things things things things things ah yes thanks to everyone who came to the Imps last night. Nice to have a big contigent. The show was OK. Not an all time classic, and neither was my input, but it was fine. Oh, and a fucking nuclear BUNKER. I'm giving you gold here.

Spent Monday in the business school, came home and showered intently. Place makes me feel unclean. There is not a wall long enough to line every single self-satisfied management student against and blow their brains out one at a time. Hello. Welcome to my world, my world of hate. I'm reading some articles, and they are such a pathetic waste of my time. "This is not a science", I scream over and over in my head hoping someone will pick up the telepathic signals and spread the word in one of those god-awful management journals. This is, at best, common sense, and at worse, common sense mascarading as some exotic theory with names like Reverse People Spanner Theory, and Rigid DiseasedTangerine Paradigm. Stop pretending you contribute anything to the world, shut up and go home.

Does anyone agree with me that The Prodigy's Fat of the Land and specifically Firestarter are great, great pieces of music. We were watching this countdown of best number one's, and Cath said it was rubbish. Oh, it is so not. It's techno and industrial and punk and dance all together in a three minute ball stomping track that makes you want to mosh and rave to at the same time. It's the fact that they pushed a boundary so far no one even bothered to imitate them that makes it so awesome. K? K.

Craig

Hey,

I hate the Daily Mail. Case in point: the small tirade on last Sunday's Magdalen jumping incident. It basically said that there are too many students going to university, as evidenced by the moronic actions of the bridge jumpers. This event proves students are cretins, and they only get in through rich parents paying for the best education and moving near the best schools, so while their son or daughter is a closet retard, he or she still manages to get into uni.

Tragically, while the bridge jumpers are indeed demented, they are probably not unintelligent. Do you know any actual dumb people at this university? It was just supposed to be fun, if misguided, and while it is also fun to laugh at their stupidity, the consequences were never planned that way. It was, in short, an accident. To insinuate that low intelligence was the reason for the injuries only brings the same conclusion about the journalist who wrote the piece. I'm willing to believe that there are too many people at university in this country, or equivalently, the government is paying too much towards the entire university system. But I don't think the student body of Oxford is the problem. If you want a starting point, how about the hairdressing and salon management students at the University of Derby? Or how about meat technology and management at Leeds?

The article then went on to say that bringing back the grammer school system where only the most able of students had access to the best education and not the children of the most well off further pushes home the lunacy of the writer. For one, it ignores the fact that well off parents will still manipulate the system for the primary school years. Indeed, most research shows that the skills learned in this time are more valuable than anything subsequently learned. Secondly, it ignores the fact that the grammer school system may irreversibly condemn a bright student to a second rate school because of a couple of bad tests.

To my mind, a fair schooling system is one where all schools are given equal, uniform and plentiful resources and teachers are paid highly to stop the best being headhunted by private schools. The current UK system allows the money to follow the pupil, which inevitably creates a two tier education system. Better schools attract more resources, as parents from further away who can afford the extra travel expenses send their children to the better performing schools. Consequently, the schools they leave behind, and their predominantly pooer background pupils suffer because of a smaller budget. The advocates of this system argue that this system gives incentives for schools to compete more like firms for resources and pupils. But they forget that this is not an instantaneous transition, and even if a poor performing school does improve, it may be too late for a generation of children who have already reached its end.

Craig

Mail time:

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Dear Mr. Homes

Today is election day, and as a a voter, today is you're one chance to vote. Voting tomorrow is too late. Sunday is well out. Today is Votes Day.

I would like to tell you about myself as the Conservative candidate for Oxford West and Abingdon. This is because by doing so just before you go to vote, you will forget all the other parties exist. No, don't type that, Rebecca. I am married to two pre-school children, I work in the field of employment law and specialise in maternity and paternity rights and discrimination and as an expert in the latter, I was chosen as Conservative candidate for this constiuency.

Let me tell you a bit about what a Conservative government will do. It is the only party that opposes top up fees and doesn't want to introduce a graduate tax. I advise you not to check the reliability of that statement, because it is obviously true. We want to increase aid to foreign countries, and will spend £800m over the next three years, cancel third world debts and made free trade fairer. Anything, just as long as they don't come here to make themselves better off. Actually, scrap that Rebecca.

The Conservatives have also made a commitment to the environment, though you made not have heard of it yet. It is to be called Go Go Team Planet. Yes, that's it. We fully back the Kyoto Protocol, and favour a wide range of renewable energy sources, especially those powered by hot air. Hot air is likely to play a major part in many Conservative policies for this country, and our climate control policy is just one such example.

Finally, many of you have asked me about my views on the war. Quite simply, Tony Blair lied to the country about the war, which is disgraceful. A Conservative government would never lie about going to war, just as it would never sell arms to terrorist or totalitarian states around the globe, or fund oppresive regimes.

Yours Sincerely,

Amanda Maclean

Needed to record this scene from last night's rehearsal.

It started, as do so many things, at an ectasy fuelled rave in Goa. Me and Jim were talking over the music, and he commented on my tattoo, that meant we must have gone to the same camp. He said he liked Goa, I said I liked Camp. The music stops, and soon the entire club is turning on me, calling me a camp-lover. And, because the music had stopped, they decided I should take them to camp, if it was so good.

They were not impressed with the little camp with it's hammock. Violence was brewing, when I started making rave music noises, and suddenly the gang were entrance, dancing again like they were back in the club. Two weeks later, our narrator added, we we're starting to get tired, so everyone dancing fell into the hammock to sleep. They all got entangled in it as I looked on. At this point, the story teller went on, I laughed evily. So, of course, I did. It was all a plan, a plan to get them to camp and trap them there.

"Dude, I am totally tripping out right now. What are they over there? Are they monkeys?", asked on of the guys stuck in the hammock.

Evil shreiking monkeys abound, and the plan unfolds, in so much as it suddenly becomes so less clear. I was to set them on the ravers if they didn't promise to join the camp, it eventually turned out. I even had the forms handy. One of they guys still didn't know if they were real or not, because he was still tripping.

End scene. I love the Imps.

Craig

Dear Dickpuppet,

I hate you. Oh, how I hate you. I hate you so much it gives me strength. Sometimes I wake up early because there aren't enough hours in the day to hate you enough. And it's not just me. Everyone hates you. Your mother called, just to say she's so glad you didn't get in touch.

Love,

Craig

I've decided that these little exam test things are kind of annoying. It's like picking your seven year old brother from school. You know that it's going to have to be done at some point, but can't help thinking that you'd like a few more days of living before you get around to it.

But anyway, I'm starting to build up to those long twelve hour days in the library I know are imminent. Fuck it, I've worked hard for three years. I know or have at some point known my course. Is that not enough? I'm addressing all the examiners who read this.

And most annoyingly, it's getting in the way of my Imping. Revision class Monday at half five. OK, well I'll go to the rehearsal on Thursday. Wait, no, back up, have a revision seminar at half seven. There are other times. For instance, half three on a Wednesday afternoon. I don't think anyone will dispute that that is another time. It may even be the other time.

There was something I was supposed to do, but I can't remember because my younger brother keeps trying to call me, and I have to keep hanging up on him because he's distracting the thought process.

Speak soon,

Craig

Hey,

Quick pointer to this. Add us now, and stop having to check us so often.

I got an offer for a place at Univ. At least I'm in and I don't have the uncertainty anymore. I think I had kind of assumed I'd get in at St. Anne's but it's likely they may have been full up, and I did know it was never a dead certainty as a second choice. I may even be living in North Oxford, which by most university members speak means, "Further up Banbury Road than St. John's." Still, I'm still going to be around. And full of juice, as ever.

Speak soon,

Craig

Hey,

It would seem like the new term is upon us, and it would also seem like this is some form of a last term for me. Apart from, of course, I'll be back next year with all new features and a Masters course and some shinier shoes. And I won't be on the fucking undergraduate mailing list and have to listen to the utter drivel that is Dickpuppet, our JCR Entz rep.

For example, todays email. "Do you wanna get wasted this weekend?", it starts. Oh yes! Yes please! Sign me up for that getting wasted! Is there a queue? Of course there is. That's what happens when you try act just like everyone else.

And then: "Bad news: Collections. You're gonna get a third. Good news: Collections are not finals. Better news: Bop this Saturday night at Green bar."

In short, you're dumb, but don't worry, because you can drink instead. That'll show them you're not dumb. Instead, how about "Bad news: I'm still Entz rep for one more term. Good news: I will eventually have to leave the job. Better news: This may be sooner than expected, depending in part on the relative position of the bullet, the bullet chamber it occupies and the firing mechanism, after one spin." Now that's entertainment.

Speak soon,

Craig