Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Much to my husband's dismay, I am an avid fan of University Challenge.
What is not to love about a bunch of self-satisfied twerps putting their reputations on the line, all for the fame and glory? How can you not admire the brusque, barking Paxman?
What is part of the fun is seeing the differences between colleges. Let's do a case study:
Christ College Oxford v. Reading, for example.
Christ College:
Tweed, the Queen's English, some sort of nasal obstruction.
Reading:
T-shirts and curly hair.
Christ College:
A look of agitated self-approval in the eyes.
Reading:
A nervous squint.
This division exists within London as well; ie UCL (don't get me wrong; I have a perfect love/hate relationship with UCL, mostly to do with the fact that they wouldn't have me) v. St. Mary's or whatever. Goldsmiths, of course, will have nothing to do with this sort of thing - at some point during my three years there, someone meekly suggested participating - a suggestion that was laughed at so hard and so long that it lingered on the suggestion-stage for a while and then vanished into oblivion.
Anyhoo.
University Challege's 'Professionals' edition is usually more of the same - funny how people never forget what they 'ought to be'. This is a city of appearances.
Last night it was the time-honoured Financial Times v. The Idler.
I had never heard of The Idler, which I guess is rather suitable.
Suffice to say that The Idler kicked the Financial Times' butt severely - a strike for the work shy all over the world. Thank you, Idler.
Ever since Robinson Crusoe tried to persuade me for the 2000th time that he was never idle, I have had severe problems with 'not being idle'. Why should one not be idle, then? It is such a bloody middle class way of thinking: Work hard, get money, buy stuff, rise on the status ladder.
Yes, I know, I know, easy to be idle if you've got the money. The Idler: a group a child-men refusing to grow up and take responsibility?
I guess it is time to find ways of perpetuating idleness in a practical way.
Go on, Idler, you can do it! (Although I do expect The Idler prefers living in half-obscurity).
What is not to love about a bunch of self-satisfied twerps putting their reputations on the line, all for the fame and glory? How can you not admire the brusque, barking Paxman?
What is part of the fun is seeing the differences between colleges. Let's do a case study:
Christ College Oxford v. Reading, for example.
Christ College:
Tweed, the Queen's English, some sort of nasal obstruction.
Reading:
T-shirts and curly hair.
Christ College:
A look of agitated self-approval in the eyes.
Reading:
A nervous squint.
This division exists within London as well; ie UCL (don't get me wrong; I have a perfect love/hate relationship with UCL, mostly to do with the fact that they wouldn't have me) v. St. Mary's or whatever. Goldsmiths, of course, will have nothing to do with this sort of thing - at some point during my three years there, someone meekly suggested participating - a suggestion that was laughed at so hard and so long that it lingered on the suggestion-stage for a while and then vanished into oblivion.
Anyhoo.
University Challege's 'Professionals' edition is usually more of the same - funny how people never forget what they 'ought to be'. This is a city of appearances.
Last night it was the time-honoured Financial Times v. The Idler.
I had never heard of The Idler, which I guess is rather suitable.
Suffice to say that The Idler kicked the Financial Times' butt severely - a strike for the work shy all over the world. Thank you, Idler.
Ever since Robinson Crusoe tried to persuade me for the 2000th time that he was never idle, I have had severe problems with 'not being idle'. Why should one not be idle, then? It is such a bloody middle class way of thinking: Work hard, get money, buy stuff, rise on the status ladder.
Yes, I know, I know, easy to be idle if you've got the money. The Idler: a group a child-men refusing to grow up and take responsibility?
I guess it is time to find ways of perpetuating idleness in a practical way.
Go on, Idler, you can do it! (Although I do expect The Idler prefers living in half-obscurity).
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