For those of you amongst The Saint’s more thorough readers, you will have perhaps noticed an article titled “3 Groups of People You Should Hate More Than the KKC”.
If you haven’t read it, then I thoroughly encourage you to do so. “Erik Gosier” (a nom de plume) issues a scathing attack against three of the University’s more distasteful groups and as such, it has understandably caused something of a stir.
Rumours abound of angry emails while The Saint’s website is flooded with a deluge of pissy comments from the narked victims of Gosier’s tirade. It’s fairly clear that Gosier intended his article to be read purely from a humorous point of view, rather than any heartfelt personal grievances with certain sections of society.
Even so, the reaction from DONT WALKERS et al. would suggest that the joke is entirely lost on them. And so, just for you dearest Gosier, here is my own list of people whose only crime is to take themselves far too seriously.
For too long has this most odious group of snivelling little turd-burglars plagued general university life. Not just here but across the country they plaster the walls of student unions and libraries with pictures of their underfed faces wearing a smile akin to that worn by a pervert, post seat sniff on a public bus.
Year after year they spout the same bile concerning their diehard opposition to education cuts, their promises to increase contact hours with staff, and more representation for the general student body.
Yet they are deluding themselves if they see their role offering anything more than meaningless C.V. fodder. Do these people not realise that any self-respecting employer reads “Member of the Student Representative Council” as nothing other than a euphemism for “BORING TWAT”.
I hate to mention the whole KKC/KKF debacle but Sam Fowles’ latest Youtube release is nothing short of physically sickening. You can almost hear his inner voice pompously declare “MY PEOPLE DESERVE THE TRUTH”. I imagine there is only one question the student body want to know Sam, and that is why on Earth do you remain so parasitically attached to my daily affairs?
The Kate Kennedy Club
I would like to start by making it clear that I have absolutely nothing against the Kate Kennedy Club in principle. It seems to me that if a bunch of Oxbridge rejects find it enjoyable to hold highly secretive and lengthy meetings about (one assumes) how important they’ll be in later life, then that’s entirely their prerogative.
After all, you don’t have to go to their events. You don’t have to watch the procession. They are not the only ones responsible for maintaining the “traditions” (a byword for bullshit for the sake of bullshit) of the University.
However, their reaction to the aforementioned KKC/KKF episode has been much to their detriment. Late night press conferences and emergency meetings suggest they have little better to do at three in the morning than arrange an en masse bukakke purely to fulfil their own raison d’être.
The KKF is of course no better. The sententious manner in which Messrs. Moody and Mathewson made their mutiny public reeked of delusion of grandeur. I wholeheartedly admire what they are trying to establish but with all the declarations of independence and constitutional meetings you’d be forgiven for thinking they were enacting a highly avant-garde interpretation of the American Revolution.
The Saint’s Viewpoint Writers
If taking oneself too seriously really is a crime, then this pitiful group (to which I sadly belong) deserves a life sentence, relegated to the realms of solitary confinement with only the nutjobs and nonces for company.
We can’t seem to help but fall into one of two equally grotesque categories every time we put pen to paper (or more accurately, finger to Macbook because writers at our high level deserve nothing less than a £1000 piece of equipment from which to operate).
Most commonly, we will write something political, in which we generously offer our valuable insight into the week’s current crop of world affairs. Or, alternatively we go on some highly offensive rant whereby we can unleash personal attacks of the grittiest kind on unsuspecting victims who were unfortunate enough to come into our awareness.
The familiar lump in our nether-regions rises every time we submit our hefty two cents of wisdom to the paper, as we store these feelings of power and influence in our wank banks for later in the evening when we inevitably go to bed alone.
I will end my list with these three groups of insidious stains on the sofa of St Andrews life.
It should also be known that DONT WALK-ERS would have come top of my list were it not for the fear that some of their more militant models would DONT WALK right into The Saint’s office and park a fat, steamy one on top of the Editor’s desk.