‘Fresh’er Cambridge Blues (I know this is an absolutely horrific titular pun)

Cambridge renders me feeling ineffably bewildered, and for reasons much more personal than one would be inclined to presuppose. Antiquity, prestige and academic prowess are certainly hallmarks of such a conglomerate institution; yet beyond the external trappings, individuals are subject to associative pressures necessitated by virtue of maintaining a formidably imposing international reknown. Let’s be fair, however. To assert the institution is solely imputable for its constituent students’ misgivings would be myopically contrived; students are not coerced into attendance, having applied by their own volition, nor are they unsubstantially rewarded post-graduation. Rather, my ire is regrettably self-imposed to a significant degree, and it’s worth divulging an axiomatic truth in positing that, oftentimes, we are subject to the caprices and proclivities of human habitude in displacing our shortcomings upon larger entities with whom we are unlikely to accumulate enmity.

It would be comparatively more accurate to vociferously bemoan my own interminable indolence, given a sickeningly deficient level of productivity over the ‘vacation’ period. Unfortunately, perhaps I’m undergoing a progressive epiphany, which for reasons unbeknownst to me, is illuminating a somewhat ‘latent’ disinterest and apathy for anthropological/archaeological academic subject matter, considering its prior inconspicuousness in my psyche. Sometimes our own demons are wont to perpetuate themselves through actively attenuating the host’s discernment; and, in so doing, parasitically inveigle their respective victims into inculpating the aforementioned ‘unrelations’, whilst concomitantly demoralising; in short, a sordid state of self-denial… This affliction is particularly unrelenting, having personally suffered for several months! Butttt, the advent of real convalescence is imminent, as my mind slowly agglomerates its fragmentary components to re-establish even some shade of former concordance and stability. A vanquished demon is most definitely the only good demon…

Self-indulgence aside, it’s my 19th birthay this coming Tuesday:P:P I actually feel, dare I say it, old…or wisened:O Provided I’m doused with love and the appreciative worship so deserving of a magnanimous individual like myself, all should be well (LOL). Anyways, I’m off ‘cos I is bored typing and we’re only like 300 and something words in…

Quick, Cambridgey update!

I cannot but apologize fervently to those who read this blog; the dearth of posts over the preceding months has, to be frank, been the result of unwavering languor and apathy…and the unrelenting shitloads of work commissioned by ubiquitous academics… My linguistic expression will have waned in erudition somewhat since the onslaught of university academia, and its corresponding rigmarole; it’s basically imputable to having read very little in the way of non-academic books! Alsoooo, the relative absence of adverbs and esoteric/ arcane word usage undoubtedly warrants disquietude, if only on my part;)

University has been exhilaratingly productive, but worryingly not so with respects to essaying… 5 essays in one term is truly despicable in relation to the cumulative quantity accrued throughout the term’s entirety. First year luckily impacts negligibly on my terminal degree classification, yet Cambridge emphasises, ironically, the severity of its annual examination term (Easter term, to be terminologically accurate), and students exhibit a gullibility that undercuts their academic prowess in conforming to this intensive rubric. At least, this is my opinion, and I will most likely adhere to that which I so hypocritically condemn… Exams are an omnipresent harbinger of impending doom at this university, and the university does much to ensure its collegiate members are completely sentient of this disagreeable, but necessary, component of studentship.

Much is to be said of Arch n Anth as an experentially varied degree. Although nonchalance effectively characterizes my academic ethos, the degree content is sufficiently heterogeneous to innervate one’s philomathic proclivities, albeit intermittently. Egyptology is particularly absorbing and engaging, as is Mesopotamia (though I’d consider the latter’s intrigue to be comparatively unexpected). Archaeology, I’m afraid, is drab. DRAB I TELL YOU. My supervisor is culpable for this antipathy; her teaching ability leaves much to be desired. Digging is perhaps a more suitable activity for a woman so profoundly lacking in pedagogical acumen. The other supervisors ameliorate the situation, fortunately. Dr. Knapp is godlike in her didactic conference; Filippucci is inspiring; Duhig is genius; and Stone is similarly potent. This supervisory gamut is enviable.

Anywhooooo, I shall perorate swiftly. Beyond my prolixity, Cambridge is a wonderful place both to study in, and to live in.

More to follow!

All suited up!

In accordance with instructions outlined by Emma, I dutifully proceeded to purchase my suit today; a plain black ‘number’ from Matalan, but excellent value for money methinks! It unfortunately illuminated some weight gain, accumulated via a thoroughly indolent lifestyle, but I remain thin nonetheless:P That’s what the summer is for, after all…

Sorry for this post’s brevity; suits don’t prompt garrulity!

A rather more protracted post…

Isn’t it irritatingly ironic that having mulled over the obvious amazingness of Cambridge prior to A level R.D., emotions largely appertaining to diffident excitement, have been superseded by dull apprehension? Perhaps it’s the post-results lull, whereby reality is emphatically reinstated subsequent to a protracted period of anxious anticipation; an anti-climax, ‘as it was/were’. Not that I’m dreading University (with a capital ‘U’ – emphasis for obvious reasons), but you can’t flippantly silence ubiquitously perennial reservations, especially considering University signals a colossal watershed in life! I’m sure Fresher’s Week, involving some friend-making, will offer the welcome palliative for this ‘thorn in my side’. Apart from this one fear, fears relating to worthiness, ability, intelligence, adequate preparation (or lack thereof) and dedication, amongst innumerable others, consume every waking hour, determined in their endeavours to assail my Cambridgey elation! Reiterating my ‘worrier’ status would be apt here, what with continually voicing concerns to my small, yet significant (in their own special way), reading demographic.

This may sound incredibly silly, but I’ve grown fond of listening to choral music in the dark. It just seems to powerfully percolate the room with this ethereal ambience, perchance because the mind is acutely divested of extraneous distractions, or because we often connote darkness with sleep; a psychological sedative? Both factors are naturally interrelated. Whitacre’s ‘Sleep’, ‘When David Heard’, coupled with a hearing of Purcell’s ‘Hear my Prayer, O Lord’, ‘When I am laid in Earth’ (‘Dido and Aeneas’), should never go amiss; a truly epitomic juxtaposition of heavenly choral/operatic music. Tallis’ ‘O Nata Lux’ is equally endearing, however, and deserves equal mention with Byrd’s ‘Mass for Four Voices’, which is superlatively sublime, evoking only the most wondrous feelings of spiritual affinity. My IPod, though not deluged with music, is abounding with the genres of music explicitly alluded to, including some recent recordings of Elin Manahan-Thomas, the Welsh soprano. I’m not a fan of classical crossover (ugh) usually, but Elin’s industrious choral leanings have attributed the Clare College graduate with an enviably crystalline tone…

In non-abstract dealings, los padres should be transferring extortionate funds (£1252) to Emmanuel either tomorrow, or Wednesday, which slightly alleviates another modicum of pre-University stress. I’m sincerely looking forward to starting my course, and really indulging some unexplored academic proclivities, although I’m not terribly aware of what these are. It’s more a case of intrepidly discovering intrinsically interesting knowledge in a subject I’ve never studied before. A risk? Yes. A worthwhile risk? Definitely. I sometimes reflect on how amazing Eng Lit is, but then remind myself of poetry’s puerility (flagrant generalisation alert). Religion fascinates me, but then Anthropology might contextualise religion’s importance to humanity in a perhaps more relevantly secular ‘paradigm’ of thought. Either way, I get to study everything that interests me, including human and non-human biology, all within one course. Spoiled for choice? YUP!

Quick Update:D

I ashamedly confess the deplorable belatedness of this post, yet an inextricable bond (:P) with the blog precludes an untimely, bloggedy egress:P BUT, I have favourable news to be hastily disseminated! Mr. Fox, unlikely NI-equivalent-of-comprehensive-graduate, is now a certified Cambridge Fresher (although I quickly remind myself ‘Matriculation’ seals the deal)! My grades, which I’ll tumidly pronounce in a fit of infirm braggadocio, are/were as follows:

Biology: A 550/600
English Literature: A* 393/400
Religious Studies: A* 387/400

Apologies for my rather ‘TheStudentRoom’-esque flaunting (arcane analogy!:P), but I ruminated unceasingly over trivial aspects of all my exams throughout the summer; jubilation is therefore understandable! Emmanuel subsequently despatched several financial forms with remarkable celerity, including demands for a whopping £1252 pre-payment; jubilation was thereby quickly subjugated by contemptuous brooding! Thankfully, however, the Freshers’ Pre-Pack contains loadddddssss of nit-bits to tickle anyone’s fancy, including my own obviously, which has acquitted Emma of its importunity. How could anyone possibly remain annoyed with Emma, a college replete with anatine splendour?:P

Besides wanting to relay the outcome of results, absolutely nothing of notable worth might be blogged; SERIOUSLY. If constantly listening to Whitacre and the (choral) gang constitutes anything mildly interesting, be my guest to inform me, considering I might actually post about it:D O, and Sharapova walloped Capra 6-0 6-0 in the third round of the US Open, cementing a mouth-watering clash (aesthetically, in various senses of course) with Caroline Wozniacki!

Change of Scenery

In an oddly revitalizing bout of self-abnegation, my blog received it’s first noticeable makeover. My previous ‘Green’ Theme piquantly imbued ‘Fox’s Bisquits’ with an essence of literary fertility; visual stimulation would induce creative stimulation, meaning change would inflict considerable anguish…Aye right…If anything, a blank canvas, in all it’s blandness, is just as intellectually invigorating:S With this in mind, I thought some verbosity would elucidate the benefits of starting afresh (Theme-wise, of course:)):

The white background’s connotations with purity, blemished solely by the pen, offers an encapsulating, pictorial epithet of the blogger’s noble quest for internal purgation, and ultimately, explication.

Shit, isn’t it? I just like white backgrounds to be completely honest…

Although I usually have no qualms with capricious personalities, when such traits manifest themselves in tennis tournament directors, I GET ANNOYED. Especially when said tournament directors inform this particular blogger, subsequent to arranging transport to the tournament on an agreed date, that his opponent cannot make it. Derry’s proximity to Limavady, in fairness, is far less than that of my opponent’s home, meaning I have been more significantly inconvenienced. Some day there will be justice for those who have been ignored amidst a tennis infrastructure marred by nepotism…That is all…

Further General Ramblings…

And thus another tournament rears its ugly head on a not-too-distant horizon…The Limavady tournament is often incredibly enjoyable, although falling ill on court in the previous tourney (last year in Lim) certainly hasn’t contributed to a wholly positive disposition…

Results last year were relatively decent actually! Glenda (my mixed doubles partner) and I managed to reach the finals of the mixed doubles (Bs), yet to no avail; the Birney troupe despatched us in a thrilling three-setter. Nevertheless, tournament officials rewarded us with five quid each, which for a B class tournament, really isn’t all that pathetic. I’m thinking of entering only the B singles and doubles this year, mainly to conserve cash, and to avoid provoking my mother’s wrath…fees can be expensive!

In non-tennis news, www.freerice.com happens to be the most addictive game ever invented…

Stanford Slumps

Miss Maria Sharapova poses a perplexing conundrum in the most undesirable of situations. Having just lost 6-46-1, albeit to a player whose form has proven devastating throughout the week, Sharapova’s dignity was undoubtedly damaged in her enigmatic inability to elevate form when circumstances demanded it. Sharapova’s subjugation of both Dementieva and Radwanska in the two previous rounds amply illustrates a steely resolve, yet this insuperable fortitude paradoxically withered in those ‘clutch’ moments, e.g. break points etc. The statistics are particularly revealing: Shazza poorly botched 4/6 break point opportunities, and won a meagre 3/15 second serve points. Notwithstanding Azarenka’s sublime form, her Nyagan – derived, Americanised opponent meekly capitulated with comparative futility subsequent to the first set.

The Russian megastar constructed her success on foundations of technical solidity, and superior mental equanimity, claiming 22 WTA tour titles in her already-protracted career. One (:P) must conjecture that her current aberrations stem from the pressures of attempting several career-comebacks, following shoulder surgery and elongated convalescence. Her father’s absence on the tour, explicated by the ubiquitous ‘Google News’ – ‘"After I won my third Grand Slam, he said, ‘Look, I like hiking and skiing a lot, and he wanted to pursue that," said Sharapova’, is a possible contributing factor to this waning of vigour. Reaching the finals, needless to say, is a laudable achievement, but Sharapova never appears so noticeably uninspired where a title constitutes the victor’s reward. Perhaps this once prodigious youngster has slated her thirst for success? A 70 million dollar contract with Nike certainly offers the aliment for satiation, this blogger feels…

To refrain from lingering on negative perorations (:P), I want to express gratitude towards Enrico Cioni’s (*hopefully* my future subject parent at Emma) calming words, even though he’s currently enjoying a vacation or ethnographic/archaeological/primatological investigation in Peru:D Also, another possible fellow Emma-er , Christine (who also possesses a blog at http://takethat-doctor.blogspot.com/, very graciously posted a link to my blog on her own page:D I’m thankful, especially considering statistics indicate my blog views correlate negatively with time…

That will be all:D

Sorry! I need to worry again…

It’s particularly unusual for me to unfetter internalised feelings, and in a culture where emotions are uncomfortably repudiated as indicators of effeminacy, an unwieldy pressure is thereby encumbered upon those of a problematic mental disposition. Whilst the past educational year has yielded the most incredible rewards for dedication to educational pursuits, as a by-product, I’ve never experienced such excruciating insecurities. Rote learning constituted the majority of my A level revision, resulting from increased investment in my work, yet I inversely felt my understanding of the topics was punctured and worryingly unwholesome . Perhaps with university study, assimilating a thorough understanding of archaeological/ anthropological ideologies will grant a more positive output.

To elucidate: As study leave approached, our Biology teacher was pressured into skimming literally a quarter of the Physiology and Ecosystems Module, mainly areas concerned with agricultural methodology, which she flippantly deemed as ‘common-sense’ topics. We Biologists were therefore unfairly inundated with reading only loosely based on the syllabus, which thereby hampered our revision progress, and evoked unnecessary stress in an ordinarily tense time. Pertinacious students though we were, eventual subscription to our teacher’s mode of thought lent negligibly to any palpable comprehension of the topic in question, meaning farming questions during the exam were dealt with tentatively.

My current readings of ‘Archaeological Theory: An Introduction’ certainly haven’t blotted out these unwelcome insecurities. I’ve no idea whether I should possess the faculties to critically evaluate particular arguments noted by Johnson, or if these abilities will be fostered in a more academically salubrious environment. Anyways, to preserve my sanity I shouldn’t cogitate so repetitively in matters which are totally uncontrollable presently. People reading this must wonder what the hell I’m talking about half, or all of, the time…

‘A Tale of Two Cities’

Whilst this belated post’s title might relate specifically to literature, the post’s content shall not be so opaquely skewed. Having finished the book on…Saturday(I think!), the conclusion to this masterpiece evoked uncharacteristic sympathies from a Stoic like myself, particularly towards the heroic Sydney Carton, whose self-immolation for the preservation of an established marriage, i.e. between Lucie and Charles Darnay, underlines Dickens’ implicit opprobrium upon the frenzied, revolutionary masses, whilst concurrently acquitting our unlikely saviour from his short life of indulgence and debauchery. The book has definitely been my favourite classic thus far!

I’ve also been reading ‘Archaeological Theory: An Introduction’ by Matthew Johnson, which has proved comparatively drier, yet my understanding of the subject’s overriding theoretical issues has undergone progressive augmentation. Further readings should inculcate these modes of thought more effectively; making notes might actually hurry the process!

My non-literary news constitutes serious enticement from Purcell’s ‘When I am laid in Earth’, an aria in ‘Dido and Aeneas’; ’tis rather wonderful. Los padres were incredibly generous, buying a new laptop for university, on which I’m currently updating this blog…:( Oooo, and the laptop ‘owns’ a rather unexpected facility: an in-built webcam, although it won’t be used often!

Anyways, that’s enough for now methinks:)