Founded in 1949 The Newspaper of Imperial College Union

!Gartered Gaynor

gives it a go

It seemed like just another IC

party—until Sean Davis turned

up in a black dress that is. Not

many people saw it because it

certainly was a drag.

Star of the show was Gaynor

Lewis who had struggled out of

those tight jeans to wear nothing

more than an airforce jacket and

suspenders. If she wasn't popular

before she certainly is now!

Other star performers included

Guilds Pres Mike Stuart wearing

his pink dress and inane grin who

along with partner Roz Horton in

a DJ took the prize for best

dressed couple.

The event raised £50 for Rag

and was summed up with

characteristic insight by A C C

Chairman Ian Bull: Tt was

difficult telling the men from the

boys and girls.'

Drink a pub

damp?

Imperial College students

maintained their reputation as

beer swilling louts on Friday

night when over 250 people

consumed 2,000 pints of beer at

the Great British Beer Factory on

Brompton Road as part of IC

Rag's 'Drink a Pub Dry' event.

However the pub was not

drunk completely dry (two out of

the total of nine pumps were still

on at closing time) and the bar

man invited IC students to finish

the job off the next day.

Hey Vivos , Kangalas ,

Boomalakas and bawdy rugby

songs drove most of the regular

customers out fairly early in the

evening. Fortunately the staff did

not seem to mind, especially since

they had an all time record for

profits taken in one night.

Rag I s s u e H H R O H

Photo: Jeremy Rowlands

City and Guilds won the Raft Race across the Serpentine for the first

time in five years last Sunday morning. The rafts were a fine example

of carefully constructed rubbish although the mood was more buoyant

than the rafts.

The Royal College of Science raft, a stylish boat of bin liners and

University of Birmingham signs, is pictured putting in a fine challenge

to Guilds' more utilitarian engineering masterpiece of planks and

chemical drums.

RSMU came a poor third with their craft made principally from television packing cases.

Once home, and not quite dry, RCS proceeded to extract their

revenge by completely slaughtering the Guilds team in a Tug of War.

•Mines, wet and humiliated, abstained.

Vampire lovers stun SCAB Night

Over 200 people attended SCAB

Night last Saturday raising a total

of £300, a record for the event.

Dramsoc proved to be the

most popular attract ion

performing three of Michael

Green's coarse acting plays TI

Forniazione', a play which pokes

fun at an amateur operatic

society, went down very well with

the audience and performers

alike. The play was particularly

funny especially since it followed

Opsoc's performance of

the Pirates of Penzance,

Ruddigore and Yeomen of the

Guard.

There were also very

entertaining contributions from

other SCAB clubs including the

Debating Society, Chamber

Music Society and the Choir. An

excellent evening's entertainment

was rounded off by two films—

Woody Allen's 'All you wanted

to know about sex but were

afraid to ask' and 'Vampire

Lovers'. highlights from HMS Pinafore,

^^•H^HHMH Guest Editor Mark Smith •

A record total of £1,750 was

collected during the 24hr street

collection and the silly sports Rag

stunt last Saturday.

Guilds President Mike Stuart

just failed to win the much sought

after prize trip to Paris for the top

collector. He was pipped at the

post by Miss Roz Horton who

raised £183, just £1 more than Mr

Stuart.

However, Mr Stuart will still

get his dirty weekend in Paris

since Miss Horton has decided to

take him with her to Paris.

Hon Sec' Sean Davis was

almost arrested during the event

for being drunk and illegally

collecting in Leicester Square

because his licence only

authorised him to collect in

Kensington and Chelsea. The

wily Irishman was still sober

enough to outpace the inquisitive

policeman.

The Guilds silly sports event

outside Harrods raised £500

despite Police asking Guildsmen

not to obstruct or accost passing

shoppers. Donations were given

for stunts rangeing from three-

legged races to human

wheelbarrow faces.

Boring Title

Dear Mark

I've just heard you're back

editing F E L I X again, and may I

say how pleased I am to hear it.

They should never have got rid of

you in the first place. I've just

been down to the Job Centre

again, but there's nothing doing.

I told them what an active person

I'd been in my college days, and

that I was Deputy President of

the Union and resigned and all

that, but it's the same story.

"...and w hat class of degree did

you get M r McCabe?"

-Pass."

"Wel l . I'm afraid we can't help

you. We're looking for successful

people. Graduates who want to

work hard as part of a highly-

skilled and professional team. If

you think that you are the right

kind of person and have creative

jdeas to contribute to the share

end of the highest techology. then

sign up wi;h us and you won't

have to risK anything or even to

think about your own life for a

least another twenty years. Yes

your future could be safe with...."

and so it t.oes on.

1 haver't been to the Union

Office recently. Does Jen still

control the president? D o they

still drink vast quantities of

sherry at the expense of the clubs

etc? Are Jo's teeth still as

glistening as when we interviewed

her for her job? I hear Chrstine

Teller is still hanging around,

honestly some people never seem

to know when it's time to go! You

know, if there's one thing I really

miss about IC. it's all those

freebies we used to go on. where

the dicks from the Sherfield

Building would try and make us

feel important and statesman

(woman)-like so that they got

their way more easily. I imagine it

w o u l d be easy for some

sabbaticals to be duped.

I would like to wish you all

the best with this special issue of

F E L I X and to mention that as

my mother has thrown me out for

being a 'laz\ good for nothing git'

I will be coming up to doss on

your floor in Islington for a

month or two. Best of luck with

your career in journalism.

Yours

Barnev McCabe BSC A R C S

I C U Dep Pres (for most of 81/2)

Dear Barney

Thanks a lot for your good

wishes. Some people may be

surprised that I actually managed

to get one genuine letter because

most of them couldn't really give a

damn about anything but

themselves.

In answer to your questions: yes.

yes, and yes-so it goes!~Ed.

Another

Boring Title

Dear Mark

Words fail me when I try to

recall how good F E L I X and the

Union were back in your year as

editor. 1981-2.

The F E L I X editor was white,

the president a man, the deputy

president inefficient and the hon

sec wasn't Irish. In F E L I X

What's On only took a third

page, the gossip column was

juicy, there was no music page,

the F E L I X banner wasn't bad for

your eyesight, the editorial

wasn't typeset in a size generally

used for those with poor vision

and there were none of those

bloody cartoons with a bow tie

tagged on the end.

Yours

Peter Rodgers

Space Filler

Dear Mark

Words fail me when I try to

recall how good F E L I X and the

Union were back in your year as

editor, 1981-2.

The F E L I X ed i to r was

miserable and bad tempered, the

deputy president only lasted as

long as he did because he was

your mate and the hon sec was

nondescript. F E L I X only used to

stretch to six pages (on a good

week), there was no music page,

no features, no cartoons, the

Whats Onjcolumn consisted only

of things you happened to know

of by chance and the F E L I X

banner was the same as Steve

Marshall's!

Yours

Pallab Ghosh

F E L I X token'black 1981-2

Another Space

Filler

Dear Mark

1 am once more writing on

behalf of M r Nick Morton, a

former IC President, who has

r e c e i v e d such s c a n d a l o u s

treatment in the so-called IC

Union newspaper F E L I X .

Not only did you at one time

suggest that M r Morton was

nothing more than a puppet of

the College, but also that his

sensible submission to my

suggestion of a small more

Southside-ways for IC was a

betrayal.

Piffle and nonsense. Why, I

myself have recently moved to

smaller premises so I see nothing

wrong with you all doing

likewise! As for Mr Morton being

a puppet, you must now be able

to see that the forthright and

positive actions of one of his

successors, the lovely Miss Lewis,

prove that this is no more tha a

vicious lie.

Yours in truth John Smith

College Secretary

c/o the Sooty Show ITV

Plain Boring *

Dear Mark

I was surprised to hear that you

would be editing another FELIX

and before you start on me again

I would like to make one thing

clear. Although some people new

to this College have been lead to

believe that the name J Martin

Taylor is synonymous with long

and boring letters on the worldly

image of Young Conservatives, I

must say that such serious issues

cannot be forever banned from

the pages of FELIX or indeed

(Continued on page 5)

THE RCS SMOKING CONCERT

•Ronnie Golden —Alternative Comedian

*Live Music •Brilliant sketches •Popcorn and beer

•For Rag THURSDAY 24 N O V E M B E R

7:30pm — Union Concert Hall • • • • • • • • •

Tickets available from Soc Reps or R C S U Office.

Bot Zoo 'Tea In' Come along to the Botany

Common Room on Thursday, 24 November between 10 and 11 in the morning to demonstrate against the closure of the Bot Zoo tea room.

e a walk down

FELIX THROUGH THE AGES The first issue of FELIX was published on

Friday 9 December 1949 in the form of a 14

page roneped newspaper. The opening words

were:

The need has been felt for some time for a

frequently published journal to comment upon

the affairs of the College whilst they are still

topical, and to bring to the attention of its

members the activities of clubs and societies.

The introduction went on to mention The

Phoenix and how FELIX may complement, if

not compliment, the literary magazine in the

future. This indeed happened and it could be

said that the cat has now got the better of the

bird.

The Christening

Concerning the title of the newspaper, the

first edition included the following:

A debt of gratitude is owed to FC Ewels for

his suggestion of a title. He should be rewarded

with a saucer of milk.

The paper remained in its original format

throughout the 49/50 session and averaged

around 10 pages. The first Editor E M Hughes

The cover of the first issue of FELIX which appeared thirty-two years ago. Six hundred copies were made which sold at 3d each. The first Editor was E. M. Hughes, who produced nine issues.

produced nine issues at fortnightly intervals

and charged a price of id. Six hundred copies of

the first edition sold out fast, as indeed did the

second of one thousand. Indeed, there were

reports of a thriving black market where copies

exchanged hands at twice their face value.

Issue 10 heralded a new format at the start of

a new academic year. Only four pages were

produced, although the reduced type size

allowed the content to remain at its previous

level. The year saw 15 FELICES, some of 6

pages.

During the first year of production, only

issues 8 and 9 carried cover stories, while

regular items such as a regular character pro­

file and The Drinking Man's Guide to London

were established. Topics of interest back in

1950 included refectories and The Phoenix, but

undoubtedly the main source of news was the

activities of students themselves. Their fre­

quent illegal activities and subsequent run-ins

with the police formed the basis of many

fascinating columns.

Other, unusual items included the cover

story of issue 9, which concerned the sacking

of Mr Sellars, butler in the Dining Hall! Also,

it may be of interest that in 1950 the Com­

memoration Day Ball was held in the

Grosvenor House Hotel at a cost of 17/6d

each.

Change for the Worse

Reading through earlier copies of FELIX

makes one realise how much some things

have changed, while others remain exactly the

same. For instance, J V Bramley, advisory

editor in 1956/7, said in the classic Christmas

and 100th issue:

The impression one gets from earlier issues is

that the College was more alive than now.

The problem was students at Imperial

thought FELIX was not of the same quality

of other student publications and improved

printing methods and the higher cost ensued

could only be achieved by capital investment.

The only way to achieve this was advert sing.

The editor totally disagreed with advertising

and also asked who would want to advertise

in such a paper.

The dilemma remained until the following

editorial appeared in 155:

tdit&dal Comment

TOUR "NEW LOOK" FELIX.

Well, here it is. You r , » ; think it is

rather small so here are a lew facte and

figures to explain why. The joet of print­

ing an eight page F E L I X by the method

treed before, that is the "offset" process,

wis about £18.

You, our readers, contributed regularly

shout £15 towards this; the remaining £3

or so being made up from she Union

funds.

The paper which you are reading now

has cost £28 to print, and only four pages

at thatl This leaves a deficit of £13. It

is hoped that most of this will be regained

in future by selling advertising space at

the rates shown elsewhere, but for the time

being this extra oost is being borne by the

Union. Like all business ventures we need

s certain amount of capital to start the

ball rolling. Should our financial turnover

from advertising reach higher proportions

then we can go ahead and print larger

copies of F E L I X , but for the present we

shall have to be content with these four

Psg".

FIUX ADVERTISING RATES.

QUARTER P A G E 5 G U I N E A S

Either: two ~^ '""n« wide by half •

high. l r

' four columns wide by quarter column

high.

ONE E I G H T H P A G E 3 G U I N E A S

Either: twc columns wide by quarter

sasss— high.

~" one column wide by half column

high.

U G M s , bitter Council arguments and

heralded the ambivalent attitude of wanting

more women at IC yet simultaneously be­

grudging them access to the Union Bar.

es \

It J

n5 SrXTEENTH PAGE 30 8h. One column wide bv quarter column

high

The first advertisements to appear were

small ones (although various hosteleries had

been receiving free publicity for years) and

Lamleys were the most regular customers.

Issue 170 saw a half-page advert by Bristol

Siddley Engines and the freshers' edition of

1962 contained a half-page ad from The Times

(who were to subscribe regularly) and a com­

plete back-page ad by Westminster Bank.

Flight of the Phoenix Editor 1958/59 was a traumatic year for publish­

ing in ICU. While the thoughts which were to

revamp FELIX were being born, a contro­

versy arose over the editor of The Phoenix.

The winter The Phoenix of that year was

edited by D Irving and included a very fascist

editorial and an attack on Prof Blackett.

However in its defence the magazine was of a

high technical standard and profitable.

Mr Irving then fled the country and was

relieved of his post.

The years between 1967 and 1974 were

notable for many lay-out and organisational

changes. At the start FELIX was retailing

fortnightly for 4d and edited by whoever was

willing to devote enough time to it and study

for a degree at the same time. By October

1974 it was the weekly, free FELIX you now

know, having undergone several changes in

cost, size and particularly editorial style.

Free Gifts The 1967/8 FELIX was approximately

twice the size of the one before but still

managed to average ten pages u. kr three

different editors. It was a year of Muorate

Christmas presents in FELIX also started

that year, these being cut-outs, joss sticks,

Christmas cards and later grass, a 'pill', bal­

loon Christmas tree lights.

1974 was the First year FELIX was

produced and printed on premises with the

introduction of an offset litho and varityper.

Having FELIX produced on premises

allowed greater creative control over the

cntent and layout of the paper. It was printed

on better quality paper. Subsequent years saw

the introduction of the FELIX reprographic

camera and phototypesetter.

Felix Gets Claws

The new technology has made FELIX

visually more exciting. The camera has

enabled the newspaper to have more

photographs and more imaginative graphics.

The year 1980-81 was the year the cat got its

cla\ys. Constitutionally FELIX has enjoyed a

degree of independence from the Union.

Although FELIX has never towed the Union

line there have never been such scathing

attacks on Union and College officials or

biting criticism of the manner in which the

Union was run as we had in Steve Marshall's

year as Editor. There were several motions of

censure and no confidence against the FELIX

Editor and a number of College officials

seriously considered taking FELIX to court.

FELIX asserted that year that it definitely

was not an in-house publication. FELIX

f C t W PACKS PUNCH

FMDAY II'.h N O V E M B E R N ° I S 2

4' THE NEWSPAPER OF IMPERIAL COLLEGE UNION

The price went up to 6d for 1969/70, the

first issue being no 272 which marked the

start of another trend for picture covers. This

trend continued until no. 281 (cover: a wall

with a 'FELIX Road' sign) when using both

RCS Broadsheet and Council as a forum the

RSMU President criticised the 'wasted front

page and generally poor quality of the last

issue'.

Free 'n' Topless

The 1970/1 session was uneventful by com­

parison; the price dropped to 2'/2d for nos.

299 to 301, editor J Rogers including the first

topless FELIX female in 301. Heexplained in

302 why that and all future FELICES would

be free.

The first sabbatical Editor of FELIX was

Oliver Dowson. He also edited Sennet (now

London Student) at the same time. Visually /

his and the next year's FELIX were boring. /

being tabloid size, printed on a similar qualitv t_

paper and lacking photographs.

always has been and always will be free.

Peter Rodgers

_ Pallab Ghosh

Malice iij Blur?deriaDd A little girl gets lost in a strange land. Lecturers explode and a tea party reveals a group of boring old tarts. Confused? You will be when Alice goes "Adventuring in Blunderland".

It was all on a golden summer afternoon, time drifting by like semi-detached flowers floating downstream.

Alice dozed in Princes Gardens, her U C C A forms heaped in a graceful pile next to the similarly sized heap of cigarette ends, which seemed to shimmer in the glorious sunshine.

Suddenly she awoke, her nicotine stained fingers rubbing at red cobwebbed eyeballs.

"How peculiar," she said. Alice always said things like this, because she was basically a boring old tart.

She lurched dangerously in the general direction of the Southside Bar, garlic breath dispelling a small group of ghastly butterflies that had gathered in the noon day heat.

All at once she saw a mournful looking, heavily jowled old academic sporting sump­tuous robes and a coronet, whose lolloping gait and squeeky voice could barely disguise his obvious interest in the little girl. Fascin­ated, Alice moved forward only to see him draw the Queen's Tower from his breast pocket.

"Oh, no. How will I know when I'm finished. Ready. No time here! No clock!" He disappeared down into Southside Bar.

Intrigued, and not a bit concerned with her personal safety, she decided to follow the did duffer down the stairs. But on entering the threshold she felt herself falling down and round, faster and faster, but getting nowhere.

"Oh my, I wish Tiddles was here," she cried, remembering the Pekinese whose re­putation she had personally confirmed not ten minutes earlier. See, a truly boring old tart as I said.

The more she tried to stop herself the faster she fell. "Oh bother—I'll give up," she cried mournfully.

Suddenly she came to a halt in a strange, dingy single room, stained tea cups on the table and Roger Dean posters on every wall.

"How peculiar," she said again, condemn­ing herself with every passing breath. Then she noticed the academic, disappearing into the mid distance through a tiny door marked "Abandon hope all ye who enter"

Being too big to fit through such a tiny door, she did the obvious thing and kicked the wall down. "Let's get on with the plot smart arse," she said, getting her own back on the author.

For that,.she tumbled helplessly into a white patched building, surrounded with sta­tues of imposing academics that were covered in little white patches of their own. Boldly pushing the door aside, she was con­fronted by a room full of people, all chanting in unison at a man standing in front of a blackboard. "Yes...Yes...Yes...Yes...Yes..."

"Who are you?" screamed the man in a fit ol pique. "Sit down immediately and say after me...yes...yes...yes."

"Yes what?" Alice knew she'd blew it. The man's eyes began to bulge, the pal­

pitations of the veins on his forehead

increased, his head expanded to nearly twice its original size and his voice shrilled, "Yes, Yes, YEEESSS!"

"I'm sorry I don't follow," she replied tenta­tively, cowering from the ballooning head.

The man's complete body exploded, showering the room with a multitude of coloured question marks. The people ignored them and tried to chant for a bit longer, but then fell asleep as there was nothing better to do.

Alice leaned forward and picked up a green question mark. "Yes, what is it?" it barked. "Can I do anything for you? Want to ask me something?"

"How peculiar," Alice said.

"Boring old tart," replied the question mark, who was obviously a mark of considerable good sense. The question mark then destroyed it by indulging its own wildest dream: questioning whether questions exist at all.

"Oh dear," said Alice. "Isn't it time for tea?" A door marked Ooztob swung open in the wall and Alice peered in. A long table strewn with cracked and crumbling crockery, teetering teapots and cobwebbed kettles filled all of the room apart from the empty bits. Three figures sat at one end of the table.

"Anyone for tea?" shrilled a schoolgirlish hare. Or at least Alice thought it was a hare. A goofy bird with fuzzy hair, wearing a large •hat sat next to the timid creature, sporting a large spotted bow tie.

"Why yes please, I'm really fagged out and could do with a nice cuppa." She knew there was something brewing, and it wasn't tea.

"You want tea!" the two screamed not quite in unison. "You can't have tea here!"

"Why not?" Alice was getting used to asking dumb questions by now, so she saw no reason to stop.

"Because that's what everyone wants, of course. We can't have everything we want can we?" said the goofy hatter. "Well we can't even have anything we want. Well, not while I'm in charge."

"Who's in charge?" cried the hare, looking a little apprehensive.

"Hares can't be in charge," said Alice, attempting to appear authoritative for a change. Boring old tart.

"Well I'm not a hare anyway," said the creature, raising an obvious wig to reveal a layer of toasted cheese on the top of head. "You see-Welsh rarebit."

Things were rapidly becoming too silly, even for a dumb broad like Alice. The third figure appeard from beneath the table, belching and slurring in some forgotten tongue "Defoit es non auver on Rog Wake es goen au..."

Alice left. "Wood you believe it, no tea!" She began to realise that she had absolutely no idea just how long she'd been in the place More important, she had no idea where or what the place was.

"How pe " Stopping herself just in time

she corrected herself. "What a piss off!" Through the clouds of white cotton wool that now surrounded her (for no apparent reason) she saw the old academic in the distance standing at an automatic barrier. He bore a ledger in one hand, gripped a quill between his teeth and was muttering to himself.

"Hello," said Alice as she approached him. "What? Oh it's you. Well I'm afriad that's

about all we've got to offer you, apart from these of course." He handed her two pieces of paper. On one was written "Pass. You are now part of the game."

On the other was a rhyme which went Thrummular, thrummular thrilp. Hum lipsible, lipsible lilp, Dim thricken mithrummy, Lumgrumptulous hummy, Stormgurgle, umbrumdular bilp.

Alice was confused—she was still a boring old tart. Clicking the heels of her red plastic sandals together the barrier raised. She stepped forward and began to fall again

Coming back to College to edit a Rag FE L IX

seemed like a bloody st^ pid idea to me. But

what better reason to do i t '

Having sat down for two minutes to think

about the real reasons for producing the

issue I could only come up with two good

ones: firstly, in the tradition of Rag, to be

entertaining and secondly to have a good

time myself.

So how have things changed in the two

years since I left? Flicking through F E L I X it

seems no; much.

J Martin Taylor, the crown prince of boring

old political farts, is still putting himself up for

general derision (God bless you guv'ner).

The Union seems to have its usual share of

wimps and old women (and I'm not referring

to Christine Teller in particular) but who the

'Flabby Pansy' is I just don't know!

Rag Week

One thing that certainly does seem to

have changed over the last few years is Rag.

I remember the time when Rag Week was a

major, well organised event wh ich was

always the highlight of the first term.

Lately, due to a series of poor performan­

ces by various Rag C h a i r m e n , student

lethargy has been allowed to gain ground.

It's really pleasing to see that Sean Davis

has tried to halt the decay at last, and a

damn good job he appears to be doing Lo> .

Events still left include: the Monster Boat

Race, 1pm in Beit Quad on Thursday; the

Smoking Concert in the Union Concert Hall

at 7.30pm on Thursday, featuring Ronnie

G o l d e n (a c o m e d i a n of great talent-

remember Buddy Holly in the Young Ones '

Watch out for his Elvis Costello rip-off).

Rounding off proceedings on Friday is

Carnival, traditionally the best event of Rag

• Week when the Union Building is packed

with sweating people watching sweaty

bands and dancing in a sweaty disco. The

Chameleons are supposed to be a pretty

good band and watch out for the marvellous

Atilla the Stockbroker (warning: this may be

a lie).

But what about Morphy Day!!! Ignore

Pallab's mouthings as this event, if practised

in moderation, can be fun. O K , so it goes a

little overboard now and again, but so what!

Morphy Day was normally the date that

fixed Rag Week, so the fact that it may not

happen unt i l next wheneve r is qui te

worrying.

Southside move

But less of this frivolity, the gay dance of IC

life goes on! Lofty decisions are being made

at this very moment in the heights of the

Sherfield Building without your knowledge.

Perched in his tiny, ever diminishing hovel

on the palatial fifth floor, kind hearted John

Smith plots the downfall of IC Union. As

warred several moons ago (cries of hubble

bubble toil and trouble!) great white chief has

put the skids under us all and the first stages

of the Southside move are on!

Little chance of it being completed of

course, in the forseeable future that it is. Still,

who really cares any more? Feddly-da,

fiddley fee.

The Baron Hardup, winner of gorgeous

jowls of the year award for the eighy-third

year running, is still as seemingly invisible as

eve . Previous Rectors appear to have had

real character—you know occasionally

being seen pissed in the Union Bar or playing

football with beer cans down the middle of

Queensgate.

Recession

But those days are over. The recession is

here, we're all clinging to our own little future

and we're not allowed to enjoy ourselves at

all.

Everybody is forced to work hard so they

can then beg for a menial, narrowing job after

a menial , narrowing training at university.

This wasting, anaesthetic depression

runs right through out educational system

and is becoming a habit we can't kick.

Isn't it bad enough that our whole

education system is based on indoctrination

rather than free thought?

I think that the Rector should take the bit ,

between his teeth and lead from the front.

How about donning the dirty mac, picking up

your Woodbines and coming over to see

what a pitiful state most of the intelligent

young people of this country are in?

Besides, it would be real fun to know it he's

not too lost in the clouds to recognise the

limitations being taught to others.

Heavy crap eh? Speak for yourself mate,

you say. Well it looks like that from here, I

can tell you.

So until we meet again remember this:

hard work and social climbing are not

desireable ends in themselves. The only real

achievement is getting to the end of one of my

editorials.

Postscript

It appears that I may be the only former

F E L I X Editor who took Pallab seriously

enough to turn up and do a Rag issue. A h

well...please don't take this as a sign of poor

o r g a n i s a t i o n or l a z i n e s s a m o n g my

colleagues. It's more likely that I'm just

stupider than they are.

Credits

M a n y t h a n k s to P a l l a b for at leas t

attempting to run this idea, Peter Rodgers,

Dave Rowe, Pete the Print and the ever

wonderful Maz Fellowes. M a r k