Pocock: Guild politics is for tits

Events at the University of Birmingham took an unexpected twist on Monday. A horrifying debacle that shook the democratic system of university politics to the core.

That’s right, on Monday we realised that no one actually gives a fuck about university politics.

As a politics student, you may think I’m shooting myself in the foot here, but I beg you please not to judge me and my peers on the furore of Panda-doesn’t-pander-to-democracy-gate. To most students at the university, the sight of Ed Bauer lurking in university politics like the most obnoxious ghost at the feast possible is something new.

No. I have to put up with this utterly wankerous bullshit every day.

There I am trying to give even the slightest shit about a 19th century utopian socialist who genuinely predicts the worlds oceans will turn to lemonade (I fuck you not, search Charles Fourier), and I’m being told I couldn’t possibly relate to him because I’m “so disgustingly blinded by male privilege”. ERGH.

Let me make this absolutely clear. Bar a few minor exceptions, most of the people involved in university politics are out for personal gain. Trouble is, they can’t put being a precocious wanker on their CVs, so employers have to read between the lines. The air of ‘holier than thou’ martyrdom is sickening. No Ed, the government don’t care about university politics. And they certainly don’t care about you and your freestyle climbing hobbies.

There’s a climbing wall at uni for reason.

It’s as if candidates can’t hear the collective groan that echoes round lecture theatres.

Trust me, no one cares. The only reason we don’t come down and kick you out is because you give us time to text at the start of lectures. We’ve already had to leave home ten  minutes early in order to circumnavigate the sea of soggy cardboard that is supposed to inspire us in some way.

This, people, is why there are so many gimmicks. Tom ‘tomtom’ Defraine. Katherine ‘Eastyjet’ East. What? I mean, seriously what? You know we don’t give a shit, and so you dress up as animals and ride scooters round campus. And we pay you to do so. Madness.

The funny part is, this has all blown up because we know how seriously you take it. It’s so fun to poke you.

The point is, I’m fine with you being a social martyr. Giving up your very soul for politics.

Just please, for the love of God don’t do it in my name. You look like a tit, because you are a tit.