State of Flux

Since I've been here at Newcastle University, madcap Bonkers fans, can you recall me ever saying anything nasty about the staff and offices that work here? Have I ever done anything to offend a member of staff? Have I shot their canary or run over their dog or kidnapped their baby? Have I ever failed any assessment? Have I been annoying to them?

The answer to all those questions is, as you know, "no". And I'm sure that if you ask the same questions of 95% of my coursemates on Politics and History, you'll get the same answer. Add to that everyone taking regular History, the Classics, Archaeology and combined studies (including History) and you've got a lot of people... over one thousand students. And I'm sure they'd all answer "no" as well. My point? Well, first I'd like to apologise in advance to Mumsy, but I'm about to use language I would normally avoid.

The School of Historical Studies here at Newcastle University have treated my fellow students and I like complete shit today. And we've done nothing to deserve it.

First, a weather report: it's boiling here today in Newcastle. The sun is shining nicely and only now, at 17:42, a few clouds are rolling in to block it out. There's been a breeze to keep people cool outside, but inside it's sweltering. Which is obviously why some complete tool decided to walk in to the University this morning and say "Oh, let's turn on the central heating." So they did. And indoor temperatures rose. A lot. So much so that even standing still inside the School of Historical Studies made you sweat. Could a member of staff be bothered to open a window? Well, if there was one, no. Unfortunately, all the windows are in staff offices, making sure they're all nice and comfortable. Lucky them.

You already know the situation about the module caps, ladies and mentalmen. Today was module selection day, meaning we all dutifully sign up to our chosen modules and hope we get in... with caps of 14 places on all modules. So there would always be competition. I knew this. Everyone knew this. It sucked, but it was a fact of life. But wait: last year, the BlackBoard Interactive Website was used for module signup, so it was easy and quick to get the modules you wanted. But this year, it broke down two weeks before Easter. Hmm... six weeks before module signup... no, can't fix it in that amount of time. Even though the other departments were using it fine: just History said "Oh, we'll just get everyone to come in, fill out a form and we'll process it ourselves."

Genius. So today everyone doing History, Politics and History, the Classics, Archaeology and combined studies (including History) had to go and queue for the capped modules on a first-come, first-serve basis. So, that's roughly 500 second-year students fighting it out for extremely limited places on the best courses to undertake in their third, most important, final year. Some of the options available are pathetically weak, and nobody would have picked them: it seems students are being spread thin over a wide selection so the University can go "Look! We offer so much! Aren't we wonderful?" Well, to be honest, no. So many people will be disappointed... especially after today.

The School of Historical Studies doesn't have a large office. It boasts all of three staff members. It has enough room for, oh, five people in it, at a push. So some utter plank (probably the tool responsible for the central heating being turned on) decided to make all 500 students come to the office at the same time: 1pm today. This is an impossible crush. A pointless futile cattle market with pushing, shoving and general other types of hellish merryment. But that's not all: the idiots in charge then said "...and at the same time, we'll get the first years to pick their second-year modules too!" So that's another 500, maybe 600, people.

The queues took over four hours to clear. I was lucky: Elspeth and I, sensing the danger, went early. An hour early. And we still queued for one and a half hours. In a long, narrow corridor leading to the office. Crushed between 1,000 other people. Trying to get to the front so that they get their options before the places run out. With the central heating on. Noise. Smells. And some stressed-out cow at the front of the queue shouting orders like Hitler. "Get in line!" "No eating!" "Do not push!" "Get out the way!"

And do you know what the worst part is, madcap fans? I don't even know what I'm doing next year.

At first, the process involved entering the School of Historical Studies office, being called forward by one of the three staff at a computer, and then handing them your form while they entered the information on the database and confirmed your choices. If you had to pick a second or reserve choice, they told you. You left with a printout of your confirmed third-year modules. The queues weren't moving. Suddenly, some bright spark remembered they had over 1,000 people to process and decided to speed things up. So you were hearded into the office, your form was ripped from your grasp, and they wrote the time down on it. Then you were asked to leave with a cursory comment: "You'll be e-mailed by Friday and told which modules you'll be doing."

It was a complete joke. You either laughed or cried. Thankfully, I was with enough good-spirited people to laugh, and we actually had some fun in the otherwise-nightmarish, claustrophobic corridor queue. We all went to the Union afterwards and downed a few pints of cider to refresh, and enjoyed the cool breeze on the grass.

I am angry... no, fuming. How dare the University have the bare-faced cheek to attempt to process prospective third-year students alongside a swarm of brattish second-years and then have the audacity to "let you know" by e-mail what you'll be studying for your final year? It's pathetic. If I had options, I'd seriously consider leaving Newcastle and completing my degree at any university that would take me. Some people I know are doing just that. But I'm signed on for residence in the House of Death for next year, and wouldn't do that to the guys, nor Elspeth, who is staying. And I like my lecturers (Russia this morning was excellent, as usual). But if I have to deal with the School of Historical Studies or anyone involved in the planning of today's module signup again...

...it won't be pretty. Peace out, ladies and mentalmen. I'll be back.

Strange New World, Part II

You might be interested in this, madcap Bonkers fans...

...crazy, eh?

Strange New Worlds

It's finally happened, madcap Bonkers fans. I've finally lost my mind.

It's either that, or aliens really do exist and are really visiting this planet. Thursday night at around 23:00 over towards Jesmond Dene park here in Newcastle, a V-shaped craft, with a horseshoe-shape ring of bright white lights on it's underside, was hovering over the valley. It hovered for about four seconds, during which time I tried to reach for my phone to take a picture. Alas, in the fifth second, the lights got brighter and it streaked away in what I'd estimate to be a 0-300mph jump which took the blink of an eye.

Now you all know me: been to a few airshows, like military technology, etc. Not only is there nothing like this ever created, it was an unaerodynamic shape, so how did it move so fast? Also, if it was military, why are they testing over such a populated area? And why over Newcastle, when the nearest military base is miles and miles away?

I've done a quick sketch of what I saw and hope to get it scanned in so that I can post it up during my next rant. But of all the people to see a UFO, it would have to be me, wouldn't it?

Peace out, ladies and mentalmen. To boldly go...

Two Days and Two Nights

Welcome back, madcap Bonkers fans. It's been a while, hasn't it?

Allow me to fill in the blanks a little for you. T'was Easter holidays, you see, and neither Mother nor Father have the internet installed anymore, so cut off from technology and cyberspace I was at a loss to update you all on certain progressions. I know... tragic. Anywho, I've now been back in the Castle that is New for a little over two days and two nights now, and have only just gotten around to typing this: that's right, I have things to do. Makes a change, eh?

Change would seem to be the buzzword right about now. Mother has a new car, a rather nice Fiat Punto, to replace the poor departed Vauxhall Corsa... but not before the Ford Focus that engulfed both her and I during the first two weeks of Easter (and had a lovely CD player on board, I might add) ate lots of fuel and, thanks to a luxurious ride, made all other cars feel like you were driving a milkfloat with burst tyres. While wearing oven gloves. On the moon. Matt, meanwhile, has shifted jobs a little, leaving DEFRA and now maybe even heading towards more work with Her Majesty's (God bless her, and all who sail in her) Royal Air Force. But that's not before Eva the Snake needs to change her habits on pain of death. And I changed my underwear at 01:00 Thursday morning after driving up from Cuxton to Saltburn in a record four and a half hours at an average speed of 80mph... while Dad, ridden with a flu-type virus, fell asleep behind the wheel three times. I'll tell you, watching action films with cars swerving all over the road may be exciting, but being in one for real? Thank goodness there were no bullets. Oh, and guess who's changed assistants?

Then come next Wednesday I'll have registered my new Third Year modules at the History Department's annual "Hectic Scrum-Fest 3000", with places on History modules capped at 14 and only two hours in which to register for them. So I'll need to change notepads, book orders, etc. etc. And I'll be changing my favourite Star Trek series from Star Trek: Enterprise to Star Trek: Voyager after the chance to get a few seasons of Captain Janeway's Delta Quadrant adventures on DVD (too good to pass up, I'm afraid. That's another month's rent gone, then. Kidding, kidding...), and then who knows? If the exams arrive in four weeks and I start to panic, I might even be changing occupations and becoming a full time dustman. No, really.

A lot can happen in two days and two nights. Peace out, ladies and mentalmen. I shall return...

...unless, of course, anything changes...