"Why would you want ice cream when you could get alcohol?"

....and now that I have your attention....

Hi-oh!  (new brit phrase of the week)

So I'm in Oxford.  And I've decided that I never, ever want to leave.  I've also just discovered that a new department of Hebrew and Judaic studies has opened up in Oxford....oh hey.  Can we say, "new grad school plans?"

Anyway.  Let's talk about Monday's and today's events.  They were less exciting than punting, certainly, and they are not accompanied by pictures, so I'm just going to have to keep you engaged by promising to explain the title of this post at the end.

Monday, I had breakfast in The Buttery (sadly, Andrew Butterworth is not with us in Oxford...it would have been so wonderful to be able to say, "Oh yes, Andrew Butterworth is getting breakfast in The Buttery"), and then went on a tour of the Univ library.  It is tiny, but has so many beautiful old books that I could probably just sit there and stare at them forever and die happy.  It also contains two six-ton statues of the chaps who gave the money to build the library (now I know where to give my money-- I'd much rather have a statue than a plaque).  Then I went out and bought myself a Univ sweatshirt, because it's way colder here than anyone had anticipated (also, I wanted a souvenir).  Then I attempted to do work, but instead updated the blog (you're welcome).  Then I went to Jane Austen.  We watched several clips from the Colin Firth version of Pride and Prejudice.  This made me quite happy.  Also finally learned the hierarchy of British titles-- always good to know.

In the evening, we had a talk by the lovely history professor who welcomed us to Univ, which was absolutely fantabulous.  Entitled "Bloody Oxford," it was a whole history of the relationship of Oxford University to the town, how the university began, how it has functioned and changed over the centuries, and the war over what an Oxford education is supposed to actually do.  It was totally fascinating, and there was a lot said, so I'll try to give highlights:

1.  Oxford professors hate when people interfere with their teaching.  The university was established where it is because it was as far as you could get from a Bishop at the time, and it was near the royals, who gave the university all sorts of money and privileges and employed lots of graduates. 
2.  The townies HATE the gownies because the university used to make its money by taxing members of the town (a royally-granted privilege).  Also, the university got its own court, so if a prof. or student murdered someone from the town, their punishment was to weed the garden for six months, as opposed to in civil court, where they would be hanged. 
2 (a).  Once, a few students got into a fight with a pub owner about the bill.  So they did the only sensible thing-- they murdered him.  The relations of this pub owner didn't take this particularly well.  So they rang the town church bell and assembled all of the townies (well armed).  The students ran back and rang the university church bell, and assembled all of the gownies (also well armed).  The ensuing battle went on for three days, and there was more English blood shed on High Street than in the first World War.  The mob also broke into Magdalen College, and murdered everyone inside-- the front quad is called Mob Quad to this day.  Now when the King heard about all of this, he told the townspeople that they were very naughty, and commanded the mayor of Oxford to prostrate himself in the university church annually for half an hour in order to apologize to the academics for the massacre.  This went on for the next 500 years.  It was abolished in the late 1800s, because the then-mayor was so large that people were concerned that if he got down, he may never get back up.
3.  Oxford is very slow to change with regard to social norms.  The last college to go co-ed did so in 2008.  Professors were not allowed to be married until 1930 or so, and still needed permission from the Master of the College to do so.  One professor, on the eve of WWII, asked for permission to be married, because he was about to go off to war and would likely be killed.  The faculty debated the matter for two hours (in September of 1939), and the man was given consent by a decision of 8 to 7. 
3 (a).  Oxfordians had a strange sense of duty to Queen and Country.  As WWII was beginning, the faculty of Christ Church College sat down to decide how they should contribute to the war effort.  They decided that the best thing they could do would be to order each Fellow to drink a bottle of wine a night from the college cellars, so that when the Germans arrived, they would be totally demoralized because there would be no wine to drink.  (Seriously)
4.  The faculty of Univ just kicked out an "evil Vice-Chancellor" two years ago, who was apparently "seeking to destroy the world as we know it" and was an "evil, evil man"  (I may be detecting some personal bias on the historian's part).  This man was proposing to run the college like a business, invite in bureaucrats to run the college, and to train its students to do "useful" sort of tasks, like business and other "practical" things.  This terrified the professors, who were used to having all of the power in the college, and who did not want to be told how to teach, and especially did not want their brilliant young charges to be brainwashed into being automatons who cannot think.  For that, my friends, is the purpose of an Oxford (or any liberal-arts... *cough cough*) education-- to learn how to think, to learn how to solve any problem given to you, and to learn how to construct an argument in any subject.

The professor was fantastically funny, and absolutely brilliant, and I think I could have listened to him talk about toothbrushes and have been happy about it.

Fast-forward to this morning.  I managed to sleep through three alarms (in my defense, it was really early), so I missed Buttery Breakfast.  Instead, I went to Brother's Cafe in the Covered Market, which is apparently a real Oxford institution.  I had a lovely breakfast and a mocha with more whipped cream on it than I've ever seen before, and read some philosophy.  'Twas marvelous.  Then I was unproductive for a long time. 

I had my tutorial in the afternoon; but instead of talking about modernist literature, we took a walk to the Ashmolean Art Museum and looked at modernist art instead!  It was fantastic-- not only did I get to avoid talking about depressing novels, but I got to wander around an art museum and have it count as class time.  Life is good.

Then I did some work (meh), and then went out with almost everyone in the programme for curry dinner!  We all piled into an Indian restaurant, and ate a boatload of curry and rice and nan, then left in a state of being blissfully stuffed.  But we didn't have dessert, so a group of my friends and I decided to regroup for ice cream in an hour and a half.

So, we assembled on Logic Lane and went to head out the main gate.  Before we could leave, however, we ran into the Porter, and proceeded to have the following conversation:

Porter: "Ay!  Where are you lot going?"
Us: "We're going for ice cream!"
Porter: "Ice cream?! Why would you want ice cream when you could get alcohol?"
Us: "Uh....because.... we're the good kids?"
Porter: "You're the boring ones, is what you are."
*We shuffle our feet awkwardly*
Porter: "Well fine.  Go have your ice cream.  I'll just be sitting here, all by me lonesome, watching the gate..."
Us: "Do you want us to bring you back something?"
Porter: "No, no...oh, just.... sod off already!"
Us:  "Uh... ok!  Sorry!  Bye!"

It was epic.

The ice cream was delicious.  And it induced sugar highs which sent us back to the college in the same state that a couple of drinks probably would have put us in.  The porter looked confused.

And.....now I'm going to read an article about prisons before going to sleep.  I marvel at the way my life works sometimes.

Goodnight, my friends!