LIBEL, MARTINIS, TOILET ROLL AND A DAMN GOOD LOAD OF POLITICS - A NIGHT WITH OXFORD'S CONSERVATIVES
Last night I spent the duration of the TV election coverage in the company of Oxford University's politically minded young stars. My camera was crap, I drank too much Red Bull, my pen leaked into my pocket and I feel inferior to everyone I met there. But at least our hosts - the Oxford Conservatives - were a jolly lot.
In preparation for trying to chat to some well-dressed Tories, I packed a pair of extremely shiny loafers that I bought for $20 on holiday. Once we arrived we realised that we were so woefully under-dressed that putting the loafers on would have been like seasoning a dog turd, so we sacked it off.
While some may warm-up for twelve hours of repetitive televised politics with a relaxed meal and a few pints - the supremely well-polished political activists of Oxford sat down to a two-hour debate in a room that was at least twice as grand as the one the real politicians get to argue in. The motion was: This House Believes that the Conservatives are Ready to Run the Country Again.
About halfway through, a guy in black tie came in with a tray of pints, G+Ts, and something in a martini glass. These were shared among the Tory front bench debaters, one of whom had plumped for risque commie-red socks. Towards the end of the debate an upstart, possibly a Lib Dem, alluded to past allegations of racism and bawdiness levelled at the Oxford Conservative Association, at which point he was scared shitless by the threat of libel action.
This guy, we think he might be a Lib Dem as well, came in and did a pretty good job of explaining that he didn't like Tories, but that he would rather work with them than deal with the Labour Party. Labour kind of got shat on all night.
This is the special debating room door. We decided to distance ourselves from the partisan press by taking one side each and thus spoiling our votes.
By the time we got out of the debating hall it was dark and the main Union building looked like Hogwarts sponsored by Beck's. Each of the parties were allocated a room in which to sing, shout, and rage at big screens for the night.
This is the Labour room. It was averagely busy throughout, though it never really peaked. Frankly I suspect the constant bustle was thanks to it's proximity to the main bar. The ceiling in here was lower than that of the Conservative room, but it had more books. What does that signify?
This is the Tory compound. It was constantly packed and only started to quieten down at around 5am. Until then it was full of braying blues emboldened with schnapps, absinthe, wine and beer. This is where the party was at; people were standing on tables, riding on shoulders, screaming and booing socialists.
At about 2am someone desecrated the nice toilets full of Armitage Shanks fixtures. As I took these photos a Scottish man said that it looked like the work of the Conservatives: "It's got them written all over it, it's the sort of shite they would do."
The whole night made me jealous that I didn't go to an exclusive university, spent my school days getting stoned, and never got into buying beautiful suits and smashing accessories like the two dashing blades above. In the end I gather it was a draw or something; but it seems like the Tories drew more.
BRUCE LA VRAI