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Day: 17 November 2013

Review: Don Jon

 Don Jon is a film which many young men will likely find strikes a cord. I certainly felt surprisingly moved by the film even if I was equally surprised by it’s lack of ambition. But for a directorial debut, Joseph Gordon Levitt leads with impressive depth and confidence.  Both behind and in front of the character he is unafraid to portray the ugly side of porn addiction. Levitt explores our modern obsession with pornography with a frankness and openness you might not expect from a leading Hollywood actor, without veering into territory too dark to make you uncomfortable, even if at times you wish he would.

    The titular Jon is a young New Jersey lad whose priorities are his body, his pad, his ride, his family, his church, his boys, his girls and his porn. The final one proving to be highly detrimental to his relationship with the one which precedes it.  As we are told by Jon’s confident narration, whilst he loves sleeping with beautiful women, nothing compares with the sexual gratification he gets from watching porn. This dilemma essentially forms the film’s central conflict- can Jon ever enjoy sex whilst he is so invested in the make believe sex online.

   When the beautiful Barbara (Scarlett Johansson) catches Jon’s eager eye, his addiction to porn is pushed to crisis point. With the most beautiful women in the world as his girlfriend, can he abandon the porn for good? And Johansson really is beautiful. Through the frequent lingering shots of Johansson generally pleasing features in a variety of tight-fitting clothing, we are constantly reminded of just how physically attractive Barbara is, and just how depraved Jon’s addiction is that he needs porn to get his rocks off. The trouble with this is that in that trying to illustrate the extent of society’s unhealthy relationship with pornography, Levitt pushes everything to the Nth degree including the female characters. The women who Jon sleeps with, including Johansson, are so unrealistically beautiful that you sense that Levitt has chosen these actresses to demonstrate just how far porn has warped our ability to connect with real beauty. I couldn’t help but feel the film’s message may have been better served had some of these women been more ‘normal’ looking, and the tragedy of Jon’s addiction could have more impact.

   These flaws are somewhat made up for by the appearance of Esther (Julianne Moore) who looks to try and and show Jon that loving sex can be far more rewarding than the virtual sex on his laptop which has caused the breakdown of his relationship with Barbara. If this sounds hokey and preachy- don’t worry, it isn’t. The scenes between Jon and Esther are the most tender and endearing and add some depth to Levitt’s character which lacks up until that point. Even if their relationship does ultimately steer the film into the more predictable rom-com trappings, Don Jon’s bravery in tackling a subject thus far unexplored in mainstream films, and a highly enjoyable performance from Levitt, make it well worth the price of admission.

★★★

Opinion: Is illegal downloading acceptable?

Okay I’m going to make an admission at the start of this piece. I frequently use Torrents to download music. Yes I know many people would equate this to musical treason, betraying all the bands I love by basically engaging in the idea that their music is worthless. But as students it’s an increasing pricey business getting your hands on a copy of all the records you’d love to listen to. I’m sure I’m not alone as to satisfy the musical thirst numerous students have; you would need to have a big bank account which isn’t a luxury a lot of us have.

Do we all have a God given right to hear every piece of music? Perhaps not, but I do find the prospect of the latest album being a few clicks away very enticing compared to the dent it will make in my student overdraft if I pay for it. Although I am filled with guilt at the thought of some artists spending their time putting their heart and soul into their work, and making little or no money thanks in part, to me.

Maybe I should use streaming services such as Spotify instead? I have given Spotify a go and without opting for the premium version and paying £10.00 a month, the experience is frankly infuriating due to the constant interruption from adverts. After the furore over Thom Yorke and Nigel Godrich withdrawing their music because of the unfair deal artists receive from Spotify, it’s clear that artists really don’t benefit very much by making their music available on this platform. Take Grizzly Bear for example, who said that they receive $0.001 per stream.

Grizzly Bear do seem to be a band that are indifferent as to how people listen to their music- they said on the release of their Shields B sides “Ultimately no matter how you chance upon the songs we hope you enjoy them, stream, torrent or buy, we just appreciate the interest”. It’s an admirable stance that gives the impression they view their music not as a commodity but a piece of art to be stumbled upon by anyone irrespective of wealth. If as a band they can have a big influence on people lives then does the money matter that much?

There are of course other ways to show your support for bands. Normally I will venture out to the local haunt when my favourite acts are visiting because I appreciate the effort that a lot of small bands make to tour even when losing money at times. The way I see it you can reward bands who have made great albums by going to their gigs or buying their merchandise. If it’s a small band that really need the money to keep going, I ‘m happy to buy their album. However when I’ve paid over the odds for a Radiohead ticket at MEN Arena, I think downloading all the added remixes of TKOL illegally isn’t terribly perverse.

In short, I think you should when possible support your favourite acts in any way you can, be it buying their album, merchandise or a ticket for their gig, but when you’re struggling for cash , I’d say that illegal downloading isn’t such a big crime.

Live: Roy Harper

25th October 2013

The Bridgewater Hall

8/10

At the age of 72 and off the back of a new album, Roy Harper returned to Manchester to play at the Bridgewater Hall in front of an adoring crowd. Here was Roy, born and raised in Rusholme, playing to his long haired, bearded disciples, all of them eager to catch their local hero for perhaps the last time.

Despite not receiving the same international acclaim as many of his peers throughout his career (Jimmy Page, Dave Gilmour, Roger Waters etc.), he is much revered within the folk scene and was awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award at the BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards earlier this year. Another great fan of his work, Jonathan Wilson, supported Harper at Colston Hall, playing a few intimate numbers off his most recent album, a record with many collaborators including Harper himself.

Wilson, a multi­-instrumentalist who subsequently put in a tasteful turn in Harper’s band, also doubles up as a producer and produced ‘Man and Myth’, Harper’s latest effort. Wilson and Harper’s frequent, witty and endearing exchanges during the performance were an obvious sign of the duo’s respect for each other’s talents.

This night was to be Harper’s though as his masterful songwriting, inimitable vocal style and heartwarming rapport with the audience, left the audience in raptures. Harper rattled through both new and old material, highlights being ‘The Stranger’, ‘January Man’ and the heart wrenching ‘Time is Temporary’ off latest effort, ‘Man and Myth’.

The night was really an exercise in nostalgia however, with old classics such as ‘Me and My Woman’ and ‘Sail Away’ being performed with particular vigour: the string and brass section providing the necessary bulk coupled with subtle orchestration to bolster Harper’s intricate guitar playing.

The best was saved till last however, as ‘When the Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease’ was saved for his encore. One seemed to feel that the song’s resonance was amplified by Harper’s own admission that ‘this might be one of the last times’ ­ a sad reality for his loyal fans.

Feature: Thom Yorke

Refining his sound through an array of genres, Thom Yorke has undoubtedly gifted the world with fine music. Unlike many musicians, his sound has twisted, contorted, and blended in truly dynamic manners. This is why he is idolised by so many, and is what sets him apart from the linear paths too many have followed. A career spanning two decades is something to be proud of, but in the instance of Thom Yorke, it is something more.

Music should be moving forward, taking from the past, but always acknowledging and embracing the new. This is what Thom Yorke has so successfully done, as he crossed from the boundaries of rock through to the electronic. Across Radiohead’s albums a progression from raw guitar to eclectic, experimental sounds is clear, with each album offering something new. The Bends is at one end of a spectrum, whilst King of Limbs and In Rainbows are at another. The former holds beautiful acoustic tracks and distortion heavy guitar. The latter, syncopated drum beats and more spatial feeling.

Somewhere in between, perhaps marked by the descending opening notes of ‘Everything in its Right Place’, Kid A bridged a gap. Introducing more effects and synthesisers, Yorke continued where many had stalled, by no means being content scratching guitar to the millions. His solo work Eraser largely built on Radiohead’s sounds, whilst Atoms For Peace added a fine string to his bow. Teaming up with the infamous Michael ‘Flea’ Balzary and others, Amok ventured further down the experimental-rock avenue. However, it’s not merely the genre; it’s the manner in which he produces music. Lazy production can be the blight of many bands, but as his style progressed, so did the space, the sound quality, the attention to detail. This becomes more evident over time, as effects are exploited, yet have never detracted from the quality. Moreover, what many fans fell in love with was the emotion felt in Yorke’s voice. ‘High and Dry’ showed this, but even a decade on; ‘Reckoner’ reignited that shiver down the spine.

What has been continuous in Yorke’s music is the meaning behind his music. Whether politically or emotionally conveyed, there is so much more to each track. His fans love him, not in the senseless boy band manner, but because his music has torn through to so many on a level only the greatest musicians have reached. His live performance does not shy away from this. As a live act, Radiohead have encapsulated festivals time and time again, whilst performances ‘Live From the Basement’ are well worth the listen. Yorke’s recent DJ set at Manchester’s Warehouse Project reinforced everything that he’s about. Sound delays, cross-fading drum beats and live vocals created an atmosphere not to be missed. It is music you may have heard before, but thereafter it sounds all the sweeter.

It’s hard for one to appreciate a new genre without reason, but what Yorke did was cross the boundaries, inviting you in with open arms. Years on, his music stills surprises, and still strives for more in a truly innovative mould.

Live: Frightened Rabbit

6th November 2013

HMV Ritz

8/10

It’s been ten years since Frightened Rabbit began slowly gathering an audience for their unique brand of painfully earnest indie rock. In that time, frontman and founding member Scott Hutchison has seen the project grow from a low key solo affair to one of the most popular cult bands in the UK, winning over listeners and critics alike with a mix of witty, sincere lyrics and an expansive, guitar-heavy sound. With their latest release Pedestrian Verse finally bringing them some commercial recognition, their latest tour is seeing them play some of the biggest venues of their career, including Manchester’s HMV Ritz.

Focusing mainly on new tracks and cuts from their critically acclaimed 2008 album The Midnight Organ Fight, Frightened Rabbit’s nineteen song set proved that they’re a band that need to be heard live to be fully appreciated, with their iconic odes to frustration and failure sounding bigger and even more intense in a live setting. Opening with the propulsive anti-religion rocker ‘Holy’ followed by fan favourite ‘The Modern Leper’, the evening took on an almost celebratory tone, albeit one filled with dour subject matter; “this is one of the many songs you’ll hear tonight about wishing you were dead”, said Hutchinson of ‘Dead Now’. New tracks, including ‘The Woodpile’ and ‘The Oil Slick’, sounded tight and confident, whilst performances of well-worn songs such as ‘Old Old Fashioned’ and ‘My Backwards Walk’ were still as heartfelt as ever. The band then finished the night off in a sing-along fashion with live staples ‘Keep Yourself Warm’ and ‘The Loneliness and the Scream’.

With the band and crowd in good spirits throughout, the gig managed to keep the cosy and intimate feel that has been the characteristic of Frightened Rabbit’s live performances, despite the upgrade in venue size, which is just as well with songs as personal as theirs.

Live: Future Of The Left

8th November 2013

Soup Kitchen

8/10

Future Of The Left are several things if not confrontational: energetic, uncompromising, hilarious. Still, they are very, very confrontational and in Andy ‘Falco’ Falkous they possess one of rock’s quickest and most sardonic wits. Tonight, with Soup Kitchen’s tiny dancefloor rammed and several audience members forced to camp out on the stairs to the bar, Falco, and the rest of his troupe go on the rampage.

For a venue much more accustomed to showcasing delightful indie cannon fodder, FOTL are an unusual prospect. No one writes quite like Falco, criticising everything within and beyond his horizon, and whilst many have attained cult of personality through similar methods, few have managed to do so in such an obscure, hilarious and, frankly, likeable way, all the while injecting a ton of personality into such impersonal lyrical themes. To put that into context, the third song in contains the chorus “Bread, cheese, bow and arrow, the staple diet of rodents” and yet the crowd shout that back as if it were some deeply personal war cry.

It’s far from the only occurrence, either. Tonight’s gig is peppered with similarly bizarre refrains, the loudest being the excellently titled ‘You Need Satan More Than He Needs You’ which also proves the moment when the gig descends into mayhem and en-masse circle pits. The sound is far from excellent, but then, FOTL are hardly a band that exist in surround sound, only beer, sweat and wit, a point proved when one member of the audience is handed a Stella for activating a distortion pedal that Falco can’t reach at the climax of ‘How To Spot a Record Company’.

Audience members heckle and are fiercely heckled down, choice cuts from new album How To Stop Your Brain in An Accident are wildly received and for reasons unknown, the drum kit is disassembled and paraded through the audience halfway through closer ‘Lightsaber Cocksucking Blues’, but the band play on. Could it be that Future of the Left are Britain’s most entertaining/uncompromising cult band? Who cares? They are fun. Serious fun.

Album: Cut Copy – Free Your Mind

4/10

Modular Recordings

Released 4th November 2013

I held Cut Copy’s fourth studio album ‘Free Your Mind’ as one of my most anticipated releases this year. Notwithstanding a few hiccups they have always proven themselves to be on point, producing charismatic anthems painting pictures of suburban Melbourne house parties and the lackadaisical life of Australian youth. Dan Whitford professed that the album was inspired by the late 80s UK acid sound which has been recently resurging within Melbourne’s club scene, a worthy call of influence by all means. However, at times the album feels like a poor hybrid of the loveable Cut Copy electro pop sound he pioneered and a confused interpretation of acid house. The title, Free Your Mind is something of a drug cliché, and unfortunately the message of the album for the most part follows suit.

Most of the tracks from the album are listenable with a few standing out. ‘Let Me Show You Love’, at a slower tempo is the highlight with clever progression and layering. ‘Into The Desert’ is a gorgeous instrumental prelude for ‘Footsteps’, but a somewhat brash bass and drum pattern comes in, sadly obliterating the previous inspiration for the remainder of the track. As a whole, the album is dilute and there is little musical intricacy to conjure up any complex emotion beneath the surface of bland lyrics and the cold, hugely overproduced vocals. Their sound sculpting process, brought to my attention in a documentary about the making of 2011 album Zonoscope is undeniably impressive again on Free Your Mind with unique and strong soundscapes but fail to strengthen the emotional context of tracks on the record.

Stylistically, Cut Copy seem to have come up short as they attempt to replicate house music. The end result tends to feel somewhat contrived, and their strengths lie within their stripped back, slower and spacious work. ‘Dark Corners & Mountain Tops’ hits these criteria, pleasantly reminiscent of the captivating track ‘A Dream’ on their debut album Bright Like Neon Love back in 2004. The album is by no means unlistenable but takes too much inspiration from what is currently unsatisfying about dance music. Songs about love and landscapes with carefully constructed sounds to portray the mood, not about drugs and clubs with ungrounded noises will keep Cut Copy in the game.

Live: Chase & Status

8th November 2013

Manchester Phones 4 U Arena

7/10

Drum and Bass duo Chase and Status have just released their third studio album Brand New Machine, and are now on an arena tour of the UK. In the past ten years from when Saul Milton and Will Kennard met at Manchester University, they have turned into an urban phenomenon, with platinum album ‘No More Idols’ attracting world wide praise, and producing for likes of Rita Ora and Rihanna. They were welcomed at Manchester’s Phones 4 U arena by thousands of excited teenagers, prepared for plenty of mosh pits and music to be performed.

Track’s from their new album, ‘Gun Metal Grey’ and ‘International’ start the show off and set a buzzing tone, with MC Rage keeping the crowd on their toes for the duration of the night. The two DJ’s were placed at opposite ends of the stage and had their resident drummer Andy Gangadeen, playing on a huge circular drum kit. The new staging production came with amazing visuals played on a screen behind the duo, and with lighting including lasers, proving the visual to be nearly as impressive as the music itself.

The group brought along a host of special guests, such as Moko, Louis Mattris, Jacob Banks and Pusha T, featuring on huge hits off their current album, and also welcomed Tempa T for old favourites such as ‘Hypest Hype’. Moko, an up and coming soul artist, brought energy on stage with single ‘Count on Me’, which recently reached No.5 in the UK charts. As well as playing a lot off their new record, Chase and Status pleased the crowd with their huge tracks ‘Pieces’ and ‘End Credits’ featuring Plan B, and older classics such as ‘Eastern Jam’ and ‘Smash TV’.

The London duo has come back with a storm, leaving the Manchester crowd satisfied of a night full of singing and dancing. A group you would typically see at smaller venues, Chase and Status have proven that they are big enough to smash it at arenas worldwide.

Live: Rainy Milo

24th October 2013

Gorilla

3/10

Rainy Milo is an up and coming singer from London, another BRIT School attendee, and purports to perform jazz inspired songs. Her 30 minute set at Gorilla saw her perform with only a drum kit for live company, which gave the onstage performance a good sense of intimacy and being relaxed.

However, Milo’s material is too homogeneous to maintain any possibility of sustained interest to anyone but her hardcore fans who know every song that she’s written. The majority of the songs in her set had a very similar tempo, style and drum beat within them, making it very difficult to discern one song from another. Milo’s vocal delivery was also far from clear, and the overbearing level of the drums in the mix only made it harder to pick out any sort of vocal line beyond the presence of vowels. The absence of any  real harmonic, melodic or motivic interest in the backing track only served to exemplify the tediousness of the songs.

In addition to these points, Milo’s overly sexualised stage behaviour also brought into question what she thought the crowd was there to see. While part of the act of performance is being in the moment of the song, Milo thrusted her way through every song in the set, constantly gyrating her hips as if the lights would have been switched off if she had stopped.

When taken in isolation, many of the songs that Rainy Milo performed would have been passable and almost enjoyable. However when they are following one after another for half an hour, any individual nuances that the songs may have are lost amid the poorly balanced mix and lack of any stark contrasts to wake the listener up.

Coffee and Cardamom Cake

After two days without overhead lights due to tripping them and being rather perplexed by the old fashioned fuse box (note to landlords: please stop lumping students with crappy goods), I finally figured out how to get everything back on, and lo, let there be light!  To celebrate being able to cook by more than candle light, I made myself a cake.  It had been a cake nestled in my mind after reading about the Arabic way of serving coffee- with orange water and cardamom- and about the cake one can make inspired by this, a recipe I’ve now lost.  The below is basically a rejigged sponge cake.  I’ve tried so many sponge cake recipes and the one below has been the best.  Fills one sandwich tin.

Ingredients

2 eggs cracked, weighed, and whisked.

Then use the following in the same weight as the eggs –

Self-raising flour, sifted (I had none, so used plain, apparently it’s a teaspoon of baking powder per 110g of plain flour to convert it)

Softened butter or margarine

Sugar

Then –

1 and a half tsp baking powder

2 tbsp strong coffee

4 cardamom pod contents ground up good

For the icing –

Full fat cream cheese

More coffee

Caster Sugar

  1. Preheat to around 160 degrees (non-fan).
  2. Cream the butter and sugar
  3. Add a little whisked egg with a tablespoon of flour, and mix.  Repeat until the egg is gone.
  4. Fold in the rest of the flour, along with the coffee and cardamom.
  5. If it splits, just give it a quick beat (oi oi!).
  6. Put in the oven for half an hour or until a knife poked in the middle comes out clean.
  7. Remove when done and allow to cool (definitely allow to cool or the icing won’t work).
  8. For the icing, mix all the icing bits together.  The amounts depend upon how luxurious you want it, but I generally use a whole pack of cheese and add the sugar to taste.  You can add a bit of orange water in here, or a little orange juice, but I had neither so didn’t.  I expect it’d be lovely!

Food for Sleep

It’s that tricky time of year: coursework deadlines may loom but socials and nights out definitely need attending. So we are all very busy but one thing that may get forgotten is sleep, on average we all need 8 hours a night. Here are ten of the best midnight munchies to send you to slumber…

  1. Bananas
    Bananas aid overstressed muscles and trigger the brain’s calming hormones.
  2. Rice
    A carbohydrate that breaks down quickly in digestion can speed up the release of serotonin, a feel good hormone and tryptophan, a sleep-inducing amino-acid which promotes sleep.
  3. Cherries
    They contain melatonin which regulates the body’s internal clock helping you get into the routine of sleeping better for longer.
  4. Eggs
    High in protein, they won’t spike your blood sugar causing you to wake up in the middle of the night.
  5. Cereal
    My go-to midnight snack, quick and easy it increases the availability of tryptophan in the bloodstream allowing you to dream away peacefully.
  6. Wine
    Probably not recommended, but usually the more I have the sleepier I get. Note: I am not confusing this with passing out, I generally do feel sleepier!
  7. Almonds
    High in magnesium which helps to relax the body, the nuts can be easily nibbled without having to go near a kitchen.
  8. Milk
    An obvious choice as calcium is effective in stress reduction but add cinnamon which will reduce a rise in blood sugar and give a warm feeling to these wintry nights.
  9. Turkey
    Feeling a bit more peckish? For the meat-eaters out there it’s high in protein and the amino acid Ttryptophan, calming the brain, leading us to a restful sleep.
  10. Toast
    Because it’s the late night cure for many things!

I am Pho Review

Pho is a beautiful thing. The coming together of broth, noodles and thinly cut beef, in my humble opinion, represents a trinity of perfection and comfort. That is, of course, if it is done well.

I have been visiting ‘I am Pho’ for some time now. The restaurant opened in China Town last year in June, and very little has changed since then. Its small clinically lit dining area, lovingly adorned with photographs of beach sunsets and long-tail boats, remains packed at lunch and dinner throughout the week. The Vietnamese staff are brisk, but extremely helpful; guiding you through the menu with a pride that is palpable, even within the Hanoi kitsch surrounds.

What invites the diner, down into this little basement restaurant, is the heady aroma of bubbling beef broth and Thai basil. Smells that easily overpower the less inviting neon glare, of its neighbour, Long Legs Strip Club. The décor evokes memories of East Asian food courts, with plastic flowers taking centre stage, and white shiny tiles epoxied to every visible surface. Visually, the restaurant isn’t anything to shout about, but then it doesn’t need to be. The food is so damn good; I would happily eat it while standing in the car park across the street, with the droll thump of K-pop, blaring miserably from the local Chinese supermarket, as my only company.

The Pho is of course the main event. The broth itself, has an intense flavour, achieved through the inordinately time consuming process, of boiling beef bones and trimmings to a stock. It is heavy with hints of star anise, cinnamon, cloves and ginger and an earthy smack of fish sauce. The soup is served with a side of Thai basil, beansprouts, lime and chillies, that the diner can add as they see fit. But, for me, what really makes this place special, is their condiments: Hoisin sauce and beef paste, made in house, and the inevitable Sriracha sauce and chilli oil for heat.

Slurping is absolutely necessary! The soup arrives red hot, and resorting to a fork, will simply not do. One could wait for it cool down, but by now you are probably salivating out of every imaginable orifice and the only way forward is to suck, chew and huff and puff through every last mouthful.

While you must come to ‘I am Pho’ for soup, the sides and lunch options are equally good. Their Bánh mì (a baguette stuffed with roast pork, greens and condiments) is moreish, and makes for an excellent lunchtime alternative to similarly priced fair at the Arndale food court. If pho alone isn’t enough, then the house made summer spring rolls are a great choice, and can be ordered with a variety of fillings. Also on offer is a variety, of stir fried noodle and rice dishes, fresh juices, a huge selection of sides and some suspect dessert options.

Please don’t be surprised, as I was, if an excited and inquisitive toddler interrupts your meal. The owners regularly invite their family to eat at the restaurant; the sight of kids running under tables, while staff shout and bat at them playfully with menus, only adds to the brilliantly chaotic atmosphere of this little gem. More often than not, you will feel like you have accidentally wandered into a Vietnamese household; with the clack of woks ringing from the kitchen, and the loud rising and falling tones of the waiting staff intermittently rousing you from your Phoey trance.

All in all, you are unlikely to spend more than a tenner on an excellent bowl of soup and a beer. This is why ‘I am Pho’ remains one of Manchester’s best-kept secrets, but I doubt that this will last for long.

Ode to Battery Chickens and Force Fed Geese

‘Chicken Run’ is one of those films which upon enunciating the name, stirs up the flame and fire deep in every child’s bosom. It is a story awash with freedom and slavery, honour and treachery, bravery and cowardice, but above all it is an epic tale recounting the exploits of how a group of battery hens are gripped by the feverish anti-colonial winds of change. They are on a Che Guevarist quest for freedom from the oppression and tyranny of a traditional 1950s Yorkshire pie factory and they are victorious.

I couldn’t eat chicken for two weeks.

Today, many years have passed and I would argue that we have too easily forgotten the hard fought lessons of ‘Rocky’ and ‘Ginger’ and their successful poultry revolution. As students, most of us cower behind the stringent demands of our meagre student budget, consequently obsessing over the price of chicken strips, yet rarely chewing over the conditions it was raised in. However whenever questions are raised about the said chicken’s or lamb’s or whatever animal has four legs and goes lovely roasted with a touch of mint sauce, the debate tends to be hijacked by people trying to explain that we should either all become vegan or that halal is 21st Century barbarity.

An interesting case of where campaigners have had a negative effect is the foie gras industry.

In France every year around Christmas, semi-clandestine animal rights movements mount their daring raids and operations, by divulging the sad reality behind an innocent plate of foie gras. The scandals are always the same: a deeply disturbing video of a farmer or farmhand force feeding geese in the most appalling fashion. This usually consists of having a pipe stuck down their throat in order to fatten and boost the geese or duck’s liver in order to maliciously increase sales margins. Everyone sitting on a sofa watching the ‘Journal du 13h’ (‘1 O’clock news) is appalled and finds it hard to stomach.

(Note that force feeding animals, especially the feathered kind dates back to deepest antiquity where the canny Egyptian’s found that by stuffing and gorging an animal with food they could fatten it up for Pharaoh’s feast.)

In the case of foie-gras, a minority of high-profile scandals have turned the public opinion of a few countries and states such as California, sour and green with disgust. For instance during the star studded Festival de Cannes, no restaurant’s will have foie gras on their menu as many actors and actresses would be horrified, leave and then the owner would go bankrupt. California has enacted legislation that prohibits restaurants on serving foie gras although there is a loophole around this as you can bring your own foie gras to the restaurant in a lunchbox. Amazon recently has imposed a blanket ban on foie gras exports, meaning that the gourmet’s among us will have to board a Ryanair flight to Toulouse in order to get our hands on some, failing that a trip to Marks & Spencer’s is a good plan B.

The trouble with the foie-gras industry though is that majority of farmers actually do rear their geese and ducks in the fresh air of France’s south-western open countryside. Moreover, foie-gras scandals have predominantly been the focus of force feeding geese and rarely ducks. Yet the legislation passed doesn’t discriminate as it imposes a blanket ban. Therefore, as always, the few have completely ruined it and gone and made a pig’s breakfast of the whole affair for everyone.

The daughter of Mr Jean-Pierre Lamothe, a farmer working in a cooperative rearing ducks, caught up in these dire times summed it up rather beautifully: “It really pisses me off because people don’t make the difference between good and bad foie-gras so everybody suffers just like in Game of Thrones”.

Dear readers, the situation with foie-gras is far from black and white, it is rather a light shade of grey, surrounded by the yellowish fat of ignorance.

Returning to our battery raised hens; the outlook is as bleak as ever.

24 million chickens in the United Kingdom are holed up in cages, ensuring the low budget friendly prices of eggs and endless supply of cheap McDonald’s nuggets. They spend their entire life feeding and subsequently laying eggs in truly harrowing conditions. Once they are past their prime, they are let out of their wire mesh-made cage and strut down the green mile under the bright neon lights, to the tune of an electric generator’s hum, until they reach the abattoir. There is no final post played, no cockerel’s call, only silence as their lifeless feathered bodies are shipped out, readied and packaged for an afterlife of 2 for a fiver on a supermarket shelf near you.

We are the guilty men of mass-produced battery hens and other forms of cruelty in the food chain that we dominate like Stagecoach does Oxford road, completely, mercilessly and coldly according to Fingland’s sympathizers.

We ought to do something for these fowls who spend their entire lives behind bars.

We ought to rear more than a few good (free) hens.

We ought to remember why chickens run.

Two Catalan poets

On 17th October, Manchester Literature Festival presented the work of two Catalan poets – Josep Lluίs Aguiló and Manuel Forcano. I went along to Instituto Cervantes in Deansgate, and sat in a beautiful white room, which was shaped like a bird cage, with tiers narrowing towards the ceiling where little windows ran around the wall. The poets read alternately in Catalan from their newly published anthology, Six Catalan Poets, while I sat back and listened to their words resonate up towards the high ceiling.

The poems were also read in translation, becoming new poems inevitably – something to be relished according to Forcano, who is glad that his translator is also a poet. Forcano finds it fascinating to see how poetry translates, revealing a different expression of itself with each translation. He jokes that, according to the Talmud, translators must be liars and blasphemers – ‘one who translates literally is a liar, one who changes it is blasphemous’. A doctor in Semitic Philology, Forcano has studied in Israel, Egypt and Syria. This rings through his poetry: ‘At the Archaeological Museum in Damascus’, ‘At the Café Sahel in Aleppo’ and ‘Walking through the Call’ (the old Jewish Quarter).

Known as Cataluña’s foremost love poet, Forcano’s poems also include ruminations on imagination, flowers and memory. A lot of his ideas are bathetic: in ‘The Roses of Isfahan’ he compares the deeply sensuous and exotic flowers on the banks of the Euphrates with the instruction to not be content with the pot of geraniums on your windowsill.

Poet and businessman Josep Lluίs Aguiló had his first poetry collection published when he was 18. Although he also speaks Catalan, he is proud to be the only Majorcan in the anthology, inviting the audience to go there.

Aguiló read ‘Words’, a beautiful poem about a man who keeps a notebook by his bed, and awakes to see the words: ‘earth, rice, cornucopia, rhythm’ written from his dream, but he can’t make sense of them once awake. The idea of language as a code to be deciphered is continued in his contemplation of physical and mental space, the concept of reader as a detective inside the poem. In ‘Reader’, the reader is invited through the front door of the poem and becomes a character within it. This seemed so fitting with the hospitable warmth of the event, brimming with typical Catalan charm and insouciance.

To add to the evening, an exhibition by the photographer James Clifford Kent entitled ‘Memorias de un Tiburón Perdido’ (‘Memoirs of a Lost Shark’) was also held in the room. The title pays homage to Edmundo Desnoes’ 1968 film Memories of Underdevelopment and Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. The black and white portraits of Cubans that gazed across the room from under wicker hats were a delightful addition to the audience.

This brilliant literary and pictorial feast was followed by wine, sangria and tapas.

Audrey Niffenegger and Jeanette Winterson discuss myths, wonder and the nature of time

Everyone has skeletons in their closet, but Audrey Niffenegger’s are not so hidden. Her, very real, skeletons are called Cecil and Nigel, and the pair proudly reside on either side of the multi-faceted author’s drawing desk. The story of Cecil and Nigel began a highly enjoyable evening of conversation between the University of Manchester’s own Jeanette Winterson and Audrey Niffenegger, which was held as part of the Manchester Literature Festival.

Winterson and Niffenegger share a delight in fantastical figures and stories, and both use multiple time frames in their work. The nature of time has been explored by both authors and was discussed at length. Niffenegger believes that time is not a monolithic business; rather it is flexible and can be bent and manipulated in creative forms and processes. A rather inspirational discussion about the nature of creativity and the artist’s role in society followed. It is always fascinating to find out how authors work, what habits they follow, and how find inspiration. Niffenegger let the audience in on some of these secrets and also spoke about her inspirations (which included the 1970s’ punk scene, 19th century novels, etsy, and ebooks) all of which seem apt for a self-confessed time hopper who feels she hasn’t quite reached the 21st century yet.

Niffenegger’s work as a graphic artist was much discussed, particularly her most recent graphic novel The Raven Girl. Her most popular work, the bestselling The Time Traveler’s Wife, was also explored in detail, which lead to an interesting discussion about why Niffenegger discounted the idea of producing the work as a graphic novel, and why film adaptations of books often disappoint.  Niffenegger is clearly interested in image, its power and limitations, and also when it is most appropriate to use the written word.

The use of the fantastical and the documentation of utopias and dystopias in genres like (but not confined to) science fiction forces readers to pay attention to the world in different ways, as well as re-imagine ways of being in the here and now. For Niffenegger, this is both the value and the joy of her creative work.

Ian McMillan and Owen Sheers: a passion for sport

The eighth edition of the Manchester Literature Festival has been a fantastic opportunity for both experienced and up-and-coming writers to showcase their talent. In true Mancunian style, the festival organisers sneaked in an event analysing the increasing dichotomy between sport and the arts in the contemporary world. The guest speakers for the night were Owen Sheers and Ian McMillan. Held appropriately at one of Manchester’s finest sports bars, The Green, the event was hosted by BBC Sport presenter Karthi Gnanasegaram.

As a tribute to the theme of the night, the choice of who would speak first was left to the whim of a coin toss. Owen Sheers was thus dutifully chosen to start off the night. Sheers is a published Welsh poet, writer, actor and scriptwriter. He was the artist in residence for the Welsh Rugby Team in 2012 and hence the first artist in residence to ever be employed by a national rugby team. Being a lifelong Welsh Rugby Union fan, Sheers spoke of how he immediately took his chance and witnessed the Welsh Grand Slam at the Six Nations in 2012. However, it was only the eight consecutive defeats that followed that inspired Sheers. He had seen the two sides of a sports team, the side basking in the glory of victory and the side hopelessly unable to win a game. This unfolded in a proper narrative depicted in his new book Calon. He ended his speech by reading a couple of passages from his book. In those passages, he describes with poetic prowess the fragility that he saw in the young men representing their country and the effects that training ground banners have on the players. This was met with rapturous applause.

Ian McMillan then took the stage for his round and stole the show. Known for his sensational poetic talent and extravagant sense of humour, McMillan is a poet, journalist and broadcaster from Barnsley. He started his speech by talking about his start as poet in residence for his beloved Barnsley Football Club. He began working for free, knowing that he would be doing a job he loved for a club he loved and expecting the exposure to do wonders for his career. He talked with passion about his long years spent as both a poet and a football supporter, and his ultimate dream of bridging the gap between sports and the arts. McMillan also talked about his younger days and how this affected his usual comedic poetry, going as far as mimicking his secondary school rugby coach with a surprisingly high-pitched voice. He followed his speech with a few football chants and a couple of poems from his book Talking Myself Home: My Life in Verses. The crowd was absolutely loving it. Highly entertaining, charming and talented, McMillan was the highlight of the night and deservedly received a standing ovation.

In the end, both writers joined host Karthi Gnanasegaram on stage for a round of questions that included enquiries about their previous work, their future endeavours and their advice for aspiring writers. The Manchester Literature Festival was spot on with this very informative and entertaining event. A book signing followed what was a great night.

Taste test – cheddar cheese

Cheese is not just a student staple but a human right, an ingredient that can turn the most boring meal into something delicious (if decidedly less healthy). But I often find myself overwhelmed by the huge range of choice available at most supermarkets – do any of them really taste that different? To find out, I did a blind taste test of three mid-range cheddars, all between £2-3.

Option 1 – Cathedral City (£2.55 for 200g)

A very popular choice among students, this was relatively good value although I was interested to see if the taste really lived up to the marketing hype. The overall verdict was that it didn’t – testers thought that it was a relatively flavourless choice, offering little of the acidic depth of flavour you get from a proper cheddar. Others thought it had a waxy texture and tasted a bit artificial, although in its favour they agreed that it was nice and creamy, melted evenly and had a pleasant aftertaste.

 

Option 2 – Davidstow Mature Cornish Cheddar (£2.79 for 200g)

I chose this one because it had one a gold medal taste award. It definitely had a more interesting and complex flavour, with an initially mellow taste that gave way to a very strong aftertaste. Testers thought it would be good for cooking with but not the kind of thing you would grate on your spag bol. They were also intrigued by the texture, which was drier and a bit crumbly, with some put off by the slightly grainy texture. Personally I liked this, finding it more interesting than the mass-produced option.

 

Option 3 – Taste the Difference Extra Mature Cheddar (£2.89 for 250g)

This was another interesting option, as the packaging claimed it had been aged – a useful term to remember when using up that drying lump of cheese you had forgotten about at the back of the fridge, you can claim you were leaving it to develop it’s flavour… Luckily this cheese was a lot more appealing than that image suggests, and it definitely had the strongest and most acidic flavour. It was crumbly, “slightly nutty” and had a rounded flavour which definitely grew on you with time. Definitely one for cheese enthusiasts rather than the average student cook, but a good option nonetheless.

On almost bumping into someone when walking around a corner

You’re on the way to work or university, and you’re in a hurry. You walk quickly down the street, focused on getting to your destination.  Then, appearing out of nowhere someone comes from around a corner, walking directly into your path and almost bumping straight into you.

You look at each other, fury in your eyes, and you place the blame on the other individual. Perhaps you even tut, or mutter something to yourself, as you step aside and continue your rushed journey. Certainly you feel an (albeit minor) wrong has been committed against you.

But a moment’s reflection as you walk along leaves you feeling a little differently, a little disappointed in yourself for getting so angry, perhaps even a hint of fear that the other person heard your tut, as you realize that they were in precisely the same position as you. The corner has hidden a reality of perspective; you realize that from their perspective, quite literally, you were them, and they were you.

Speaking of perspective in his ground-breaking study of Walter Benjamin called ‘Ways of Seeing’, theorist John Berger commented that the contradiction in the “convention of perspective” is that “there is no visual reciprocity”: perspective structures “all images of reality to address a single spectator who, unlike God, [can] only be in one place at one time.”

The corner-incident forces the unfortunate bumper into this realisation. As you walk away you realise that it has been your mistake to imagine all images of reality. In this case the street you saw in front of you, was addressing you as a single spectator; it was precisely the same for another. But it’s more than just a reminder that you are only one of an infinite number of subjective positions. The incident shows you that at a visual level a trick is played, and that your own way of seeing is constituted by another imaginary one in which the look comes from a privileged and all seeing position.

What this shows you is that even in a predominantly secular society, the way we view our world is still structured by an imaginary omniscient and all seeing Other, which is capable of structuring how we ourselves see. When you bump into someone at the corner, you realize, perhaps unconsciously, that you aren’t in charge of your own perspective.

It’s such a big issue, some Japanese architects have designed corners to make it impossible.

Freeganism

It’s getting on for midnight in an alleyway in Chorlton, just starting to drizzle and bloody freezing. I’ve been told to keep an eye out for people as a friend scouts out the back of a supermarket. All clear. We open up the wheelie bins one at a time, sorting through the rubbish (and trying not to get bin juice on our clothes), while picking out food. Quite a lot of it is perfectly edible, a lot still in its original packaging, yet the supermarket has not only thrown it away but will threaten us with prosecution if they find us taking it. This is a funny experience for me, not something I’d choose to do often but really eye-opening about just how much food is being wasted every day.

While few would disagree that wasting perfectly good food is wrong, both morally and environmentally, some people choose to live off the produce discarded by supermarkets – a lifestyle known as freeganism. While not exactly mainstream, this is occasionally commented on in the press, although they are generally portrayed as alternative hippies, saving the world one discarded Beef Bourguignon ready meal at a time.

Amongst the student population there is definitely a significant minority who make their loan stretch a bit further by going ‘skipping’ occasionally, but many more would react in disgust at the idea.  Most people know someone that chucks away perfectly good cheese rather than cut off a bit of mould, or who relies rigidly on sell-by dates rather than their own senses. But it is definitely a psychological jump to go from believing that you should eat food from your own fridge that might be a bit past its best to climbing into bins and taking food straight from the skips outside the supermarket.

Clearly it’s not a lifestyle for everyone – it’s not exactly the most convenient way to do your weekly shop. It’s pretty hard to romanticise the reality of rummaging through rubbish for something edible, you can never go ‘shopping’ until past midnight, and it’s always going to be quite an open air experience whatever the weather. Oh, the glamour of climbing into a bin in the rain in a dingy Manchester alley.

Another difficulty is how variable the pickings can be. Making dinner from a pot of yoghurt, some bacon and a carton of unsweetened soya milk could be an entertaining challenge the first time, but must be an exhausting way to live your life. Despite this, a friend of mine says the only things he ever has to buy from the shop are toothpaste and brewing sugar (of course he brews his own beer, it definitely goes with the stereotype). Obviously this varies based on your local shops – he generally goes to Waitrose and claims to get over £100 of free food from there a week. A better class of freegan, dahling…

Unfortunately another obstacle that puts some people off is that freeganism also has a very ambiguous legal status. Supermarket staff can often be hostile to people skipping – I’ve heard stories of food being stamped on or even being destroyed having bleach poured onto it by staff. Often skippers are seen as freeloaders, helping themselves to free food that the staff are not allowed to take home themselves. Certainly there is quite a lot of hostility, with freegans regularly being yelled at or chased down the street, and if caught they are vulnerable to prosecution for trespass or even vagrancy, under the oh-so-modern and relevant 1836 Vagrancy Act.

So is this just a youthful phase of naive lefty eco-evangelism, or is it a genuine attempt to respond to the wastefulness of modern society? Ultimately it seems like quite a pragmatic response to our inefficient and unenvironmental food system, although in my opinion initiatives such as Veg Soc are more likely to make a genuine change to the system by allowing students to use their power as consumers to bring about change, which freeganism opts out of. But then again, as long as you don’t mind the process of getting it from a bin, it’s kind of hard to argue with the appeal of free food…

Lessons Learnt: How to Make a Hungover Sunday Roast

Still feeling a fair bit sorry for myself after a rather turbulent Friday night Halloween party, on Sunday my boyfriend and I had the brilliant idea to cook us up a roast, and cook it up good. Inevitably, all did not go to plan, and I learned some valuable lessons that day, some of which I’d like to share.

Number 1

With a combination of alarming cockiness and nostalgia for something home cooked and Sunday afternoon-y, we decided on the classic beef, of which there was a joint rattling around in the freezer. However, given my confused state of mind I didn’t even know where to start, and ended up defrosting it in the microwave, resulting in a joint the texture and consistency of a tramp’s pants. Lesson learned – don’t cook when confused by beer induced melancholy.

Number 2

Despite the heady ambitions of a Sunday Roast with all the trimmings, the fragility and insecurity that comes with a two day hangover led to me forgoing my usual approach to gravy, which is generally delicious and which I could cook with no eyes and just the toes on my left foot. Instead, because of a brain that felt like it had been replaced with cauliflower cheese, I decided to play it safe and follow a recipe from the Times no less. The gravy was as bland as cauliflower without the cheese, and who wants it without the cheese right, who wants anything without the cheese. Have faith in your fail-safes.

Number 3

Thinking a glass of wine would solve all of the above, drinking it on top of a thousand cups of tea led to the suspicion I might develop a kidney infection, and the urge to just lie down until the whole thing blew over until it was pub quiz time was quite overwhelming. When faced with the urge to give up and leave the kitchen, resist, and follow point four below.

Number 4

The potato is the saviour of all failed meals. As long as you put it in an oven with some fat and salt for at least an hour, it’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, and you’ll realise that you might just be okay in the end.