Socialists, Socialists everywhere

Today I had my first lecture and seminar, where I met the people I would be studying with for the next 4 years of my pitiful life. As I arrived at the Lee's lecture hall, I noticed it was full. Casually, I wandered in unafraid that I may have arrived late. I sat down as the Student Union told us how awesome they apparently were, and why we should all vote Labour. A part of me died inside as I realised I was the only conservative in the room.

As the lecture proceeded I decided to check my timetable, and to my horror noticed I was in the wrong lecture. A large chunk of me died. Half an hour later I was in a new lecture, the one I was actually supposed to be in. Realizing I was at last in an Economics group, I began to feel happy and warm inside. Then I released as the student Union hippie lady spoke, that this was actually a meeting for more socialists.

Having survived two lectures by socialist students, I went to my first seminar where I was greeted by a man asking me what school I went to. I responded saying to the Professor "I went to a private school" and it just so happened that I said this in one of those awkward silences that occasional sweeps a room. Naturally everyone heard, and I was judged immediately as being a posh, rich twat. This was probably a correct assumption, but I fear nothing, and my years of upper class training kicked in. I adopted a stiff upper lip, and sat back down.

Over the next few moments, the anti rich jokes came thick and fast, until I silenced them all asking one simple question:

"Why are you studying a finance course at University, if not to become rich?"

The silence was appealing, as my fellow course mates realized the tragic truth of my words. We have since reached a non-verbal, mutual agreement: I will not mention exactly why they are doing this course, and they in return will not kill me in my sleep.

I personally think it is a good agreement.

This is Aaron Newbury, reporting on his first day of uni!

University

The end is coming.

I have lived in the South West of England all my life, and for 12 years I have lived in the same small village, with the same two people, my Mum and Dad. 

The only time I spent away from this Village was in a foster home is Portsmouth, but we won't go into that (so ha!).It really feels strange to actually, finally, be moving away from it all. I go to university in 6 days and have my driving test in 5, so as you can imagine, its a pretty stressful week for me all round really. 

However, I am not worried about my driving test. Instead, I am absolutely terrified about going to university. No, really I am.Its a weird time to be in my head; there is an odd mixture of excitement and a little dash of terror running around in there. Questions buzz through my rather empty brain, what if I run out of money? What if I don't fit in? And what's going to happen?

But being me, I have adopted my usual ethos, and will just simply not care about it until I arrive. I wholeheartedly intend to turn up to my accommodation, and then invite myself into the homes of my neighbours. 

I am good at that; flamboyant spontaneity. I shall arrive at their homes, as there will not be many of us arriving on the day I do, and will do my best to introduce myself in my usual way.After all, if they don't like it, they can always keep it to themselves?

This brings me onto my other final point, something I remind anyone starting uni: Everyone is in that same boat as you. In my case, my boats probably a lot more bizarre than theirs, and lacks the life ring of having a social life (really, the highlight of my social life so far has been winning the egg and spoon race). 

But that's not the point. I am sure they are all as scared as me, and I can only help by arriving at their doors late in the evening. I mean who doesn't love the eccentric stranger who randomly turns up without warning?That's all from me today. 

I may post again tomorrow, but if I don't, get over it yeah?

Doctor Who: A Review

Firstly, I would just like to let you all know I have no intention of apologizing for my recent lack of posts, your big children get over it. I am sure there is something you could be doing instead of caring about the lack of posts on this Blog, like watching Jeremy Kyle, getting drunk of seducing fat people, it seems to be one of the few things humanity is consistently doing other than killing itself of.

Anyway, to more important business. Yesterday (2.9.12) I watched the first episode of the current series of Doctor Who, and was shocked, and horrified at what I was forced to witness. The episode opened with the lovely Karen Gillan prancing around on a staircase pouting at a camera (which her estranged husband Rory took the liberty of pointing out later on), and then proceeded to jump face-first onto a Dalek Battle fleet. This bit was where the episode was at its Zenith of greatness, Karen Gillan doing what she is best at, looking good and not speaking, and the Whoniverse showing is a massive warfleet of the most feared creatures in all existence, the Daleks. Then, disaster, Karen Gillan spoke (which I think she says is her 'acting') and the Daleks revealed that they where actually rather soft.

Dalek Parliament

"Its not just any spaceship, its the parliament of the Daleks!"

It was horrifying, my vision of the Dalek race was crushed into thousands of tiny pieces, I looked down at them in utter and total contempt, all the respect I had for the Daleks vanished, and was replaced with a sad and cold truth. The Daleks had a parliament.

Long gone are the days of "EXTERMINATE" and instead they have been replaced with:

Dalek 1: "Permission to speak Mr Speaker!"

Mr Speaker: "Granted!"

Dalek 1: "Mr Prime-minster, is it true you intend to conquer and annihilate all life, when the trade deficit stands at twice our GDP?"

Dalek Prime-minister: "Yes!"

Dalek 1: "This is outrageous! We did not vote for this!"

Dalek 2: "I motion we break for lunch, then vote the motion: This house would destroy all life in the universe!"



Yes, its true, the Daleks officailly have to vote on what to do. Do they invade to universe, or do they build a new orphanage for lost Daleks, who's parents have been killed in one of the Daleks many, many wars? Unfortunatly, the Daleks no longer have an Emperor, instead they have a parliamentary democracy, maybe the series finale of Doctor Who will be entitled:

Doctor Who: The Dalek Expenses Scandle!



Screw the rest of the review, I am stopping here! The Daleks have a damn parliament, its wrong on so many levels, maybe the new daleks where painted different colors for this very reason. The Purple ones are Conservatives, the Red Labour, and the yellows lib dem!

In conclusion, congratulations BBC, you have officially ruined Doctor Who. Shut it down, bring back Russel and Tennant, and actually write some decent story lines.

It was all going so well......




That's all from me today!


Aaron Newbury