Opinion: I am not whereing a mask and here’s why

I am writing this article in order to address some of the disgusting alligations that I have recently read about people who refuse to give into fear and where a face mask.

I should say, at the out set, that I am not someone who believes everything that they read. I do my research, and I think that what I find is very interesting compared to what we are told by the govenment and by jornalists.

Neither I or my children where masks when we go shopping or for a walk in the park, which is something of which I am extremely proud of. Not for us the blind obedience to Parliament or wealthy doctors determined to keep us all afraid and unquestioning.

My not whereing a mask does not effect you in any way. You’ve got your mask, which you apparently believe so very strongly in, so why should you care what I do? I certanly don’t pay attention to how you conduct yourself, after all.

And yet, despite this supposedly being a free nation, I am set upon by all sides whenever I choose to voice this opinion, which I might add that I do very rarely. The moment that someone finds out that I have decided to use my own intelect to research this alleged pandemic and have come to my own conclusions, it’s like they think I’m some kind of anti-vaxxer. “You’re putting your children at risk,” they roar at me through my computer screen. “What if you infect someone because your not whereing a mask?”

To those people, I say, how do you know? The only answer, reallistically, is that you do not. You have blindly accepted what you have been told, and some faint awareness of your own limited intelect has caused you to lash out at someone who dares to ask “but what if it isn’t?” Throughout the history of the world, great discoveries have been made by people who question what they are told. I’m not one to put myself forward, but I am one of those people. And if the price I have to pay for holding the findings of these experts and scientists to my own rigoros standards is being called a “spreader” or a “idiot” or a “terrible mother”, then that is my cross and I bare it gladly.

Eight films that don’t live up to their title

Like many other unemployed young people, much of my lockdown has been spent working my way through Netflix’s vast treasure trove. Quite soon, though, I realised that the on-demand service really excels at one thing: lying. Here are eight films that really deceived me.

Reservoir Dogs

Maybe expecting aquatic pugs and swimming cockapoos was a bit too much, but surely a labrador wouldn’t have been too hard to get? The closest Tarantino gets to a dog is the multiple cries of “bitch”, and pools of blood don’t seem like a very good substitute for reservoirs to me. Disappointing.


Dodgy characters, the whole lot.

Instead of a heart-warming story about a young boy overcoming his erectile dysfunction, I was instead faced with a load of bollocks about balloons?

Harry Potter

As a lifelong collector of Byzantine vases, I was very excited for a whole franchise detailing the life of an enthusiastic young potter. Imagine my disappointment when I sat through all eight films and was yet to discover a single mention of modern ceramic techniques! Admittedly some of the crockery used in the Great Hall shows a great eye for design, but overall the film evidently just used the “potter” reference in the title to lure in eager ceramics enthusiastic. Appalling!

White Chicks

They really aren’t.

Shrek 2

The first Shrek film was exceptional and its title in no way deceived me. The second instalment, however, has shown me just how treacherous DreamWorks really is! I had eagerly anticipated the return of Donkey, Fiona and the gang, but picture my disappointment when the film only featured one Shrek and not the two that the title promised.

Notting Hill

Largely unfamiliar with London, I was looking forward to educating myself on one of the capital’s hippest districts. This is not a David Attenborough documentary – why on Earth does it feature so many lewd references?! Disgusting. Many recent “geographical” documentaries have similarly let me down – Australia and Madagascar to name a couple.

Free Willy

File under “False Advertisement”


Pretty Woman

Julia Robert doesn’t really suit a blonde bob.

Best crying spots in Newcastle

Unfortunately, chances are that while you are at Newcastle University you will have at least a little cry. It’s one of the things you can guarantee about your university experience. That, and crippling debt, which may jolly well be what makes you cry in the first place. But having a cry in your room is so generic, so why not spice up your cry-life with some of the best spots to tear up in Newcastle?

The Robbo

If you’re feeling a bit down and feel in need of letting the water works flow, why not do so in style? Book yourself a room in the Robbo for an hour. Sure, it is supposed to be for studying, but letting all your emotions out seems like a much better use of that time and you can do it in peace and quiet. Only downside is all those gremlins waiting outside for your time to be up so they can crack on with some macroeconomics. That, and having to mop the desk after your sobbing session.

Mog on the Tyne

Crying is always more fun with both a fuzzy companion and a drink to hydrate you for extra tears, and which place has both? Mog on the Tyne, that’s which. What’s better than tearing up while stroking a little kitty? Sure, the cat probably doesn’t give a damn about your wellbeing, but that doesn’t mean it won’t help. And when you’re done you can always use the cat as a hankie.

Image: Sophie Hicks

Grey’s Monument

Crying is the new cool. Doing it shows the world that you are confident and willing to express your emotions. So if you really want to express yourself, do it somewhere everyone can see. Like Grey’s Monument. Sure it’s high up and probably a bit cold, but it’ll make for an exciting cry that everyone will see.

Under the Arches

You can’t go wrong with a classic, and there certainly isn’t a more iconic spot than under the Arches on main campus. It isn’t just the go-to spot to share your dissertation with anyone who will listen, but also prime real estate for lovely little cry session. It also provides some great overhead cover so when it rains the only thing that’ll get wet is your cheeks.

Student Marxist proves dedication to the cause by becoming unbearable

A student at Newcastle University has decided to go full-ham with his far left politics, and become completely unlikable.

Now a Marxist-Leninist-Maoist, he says that his main enemies are the Tories, Marxist-Leninists and Trotskyists, as well as Marxist-Leninist-Maoist-Third-Worldists.

He made sure to advertise his political views with a funny, ironic t-shirt with the slogan “Gulag me daddy”. After the purchase, reports emerged of disturbed earth around Karl Marx’s plot in Highgate Cemetery, who was turning in his grave like an 18v powerdrill.  

“People have called me pretentious, but I don’t see it,” he told The Lampoon, while adjusting his beret. “I do the power-fist and everything.”

His methods are indeed extreme. Since switching aisles – from the quite left wing aisle to the very left wing aisle – he’s been found ‘debating’ people in the kitchens at parties.

When asked about this, he explained “people are intimidated by my intelligence”. He then published a lengthy Facebook post with no punctuation or paragraph breaks. 

“Maybe I could do more to engage with the working class,” the student frowned and tilted his head. “On the other hand, I have read Down and Out in Paris and London, and I remember two anecdotes about French peasants, or something.”

“Those guys probably supported my views, and they’ve only been dead almost a century. They were proper poor: not once in that book do they go skiing.”

Millennial unsure if friend really a friend or more of a passing networking opportunity

A millennial has realised she has no idea if a major person in her life is a friend or just a potential source of employment.

According to the woman, the embarrassing misunderstanding first arose when their usual conversation om LinkedIn became slightly too friendly. She explained that after the standard talk about multi-polar problem management strategy, things took a turn for the fraternal.

“She asked me if I wanted to go for brunch, but not to talk about the best ways to optimise our CV,” the woman told The Lampoon. “She was even going on about her favourite TV show from the 90s, and not because she wanted to pitch a throwback article about it to Vice.”

“I think she just wanted to talk to me. I’m a self-starter and I understand the gig economy: I’m ready to cannibalise this relationship to all hell, but it’s still left me really confused.”

After some more head scratching, the woman came to an epiphany. “She needs numbers for her slam poetry night! That explains the chumminess.”

After talking to the woman, our reporter sat hugging his knees in the shower for forty five minutes.

Centrist tries to write satirical article, gives himself 5/10

I, a centrist, decided to write a satirical article. Unfortunately, the balanced approach of finding good and bad in any situation, policy or person is not best suited for the take-down style of most comic news websites.

It’s unlikely this article will have enthusiastic mainstream support, but it might succeed by not being hated. If people hate it, hopefully an exact same amount of other people love it, so it still comes out neutral.

What do you think so far? This paragraph is a bit up itself and way too self-referential for its own good, but at least it’s self-aware enough to mention it. Certainly, the first two paragraphs could have done with an extra joke or two.

I feel like the writer was banking too much on the idea of the article, so the actual content is lacking. Let’s hope it picks up in the next paragraph.

It doesn’t.


Gaslighting: know the facts

Throwing around the term ‘gaslighting’ seems to to be all the rage in 2020. From small-scale instances to politically motivated groups accusing their own governments of ‘gaslighting’ them, everyone’s been getting in on the fun; but what actually is gaslighting? We contacted science to shed some ‘light’ on the subject.

Mr. Wakefield, a well-respected physician in over 12 relatively major Facebook groups, let us know what’s what. The term actually comes from a Hollywood film, Gas Light (1944) – the first hole in the hull of HMS Credibility.

Mr. Wakefield informed us that the usage of the term is simply an overreaction from the ‘modern generations’, who feel inadequate in comparison to their superiors. This leads them to imagine that they are actually being manipulated into questioning their own mind by those with power over them! What a ridiculous idea! This made-up phenomenon is what they label ‘gaslighting’.

Mr. Wakefield wrote in ‘Old Scientific’ a conclusion of the investigation he has conducted: “It’s merely another trivial ‘microagression’ for pampered youth to complain about, a complete fabrication rooted in Hollywood nonsense. You cant apply terms and phenomenon from movies to real life. How many psychopaths do you know that go around dressed as their mothers whilst trying to run a hotel? It’s merely a Hollywood plot. It categorically does not exist in the real world. There’s a completely rational explanation for why some people have power over others, and they don’t need to waste time manipulating their subordinates. They work harder. They are smarter. They are the breadwinners, working tirelessly for their dependents. They deserve nothing but respect, and anyone that believes they are abusing their power is wrong, blinded by jealousy and spite. The world would run a lot smoother if everyone accepted their ineptitude in the face of their superiors. It is heartbreaking to see accusations of this phenomenon lobbed around even within the perfectly stable nuclear family these days.”

The science has spoken. It is clear there is no foundation at all for ‘gaslighting’ and we all need to accept that if we want to move on as a society. We must accept it is a myth and disregard any silly notion that someone is undermining our minds.

To anyone who still clings on to this ridiculous myth, being corrected is not psychological abuse. Facts do not care about your feelings. Follow the science.

It’s not just you – David Lynch is a pretentious hack

Hot take incoming, fuck David Lynch. Favorite “auteur” of insufferable pseuds around the globe, David Lynch is truly the best demonstration for the principle that volatility does not equal mystery.  

Lynch seems to think that if you pack enough clueless, mentally deranged and deeply disturbed characters doing enough deranged and disturbing things into two hours you have yourself a bonafide “psychological thriller”. What you actually get with Lynch is some sort of mishmash of fucked up characters and ideas that makes absolutely no sense and has no larger meaning beyond making you go “Oh wow, that’s strange.” Lynch fans love to call people who don’t worship him dumb, and not “enlightened” or “intellectual” enough to find deeper meaning in what is essentially pretentious shock-value. Look buddy, I like to stare at Laura Dern writhe around as much as the next guy, but there’s a limit.

There might be an argument to be made in favor of Lynch’s dreamy, stream-of-consciousness narratives from an “art-house” (whatever the hell that means) perspective, but there is nothing there for the viewer. It almost seems like a megalomaniacal effort, to create something that makes sense to nobody but you. The man didn’t shoot a film with a completed screenplay until 2006’s Inland Empire!  If you’re going to claim that your story makes any sense or has any thoughtful meaning beyond whatever you felt like at any instance during production, maybe write a fucking script before you start making the goddamn film! To Lynch, atmosphere building means stuffing in an abundance of naked fat women and strange, mentally disturbed men as background characters. 

This is what watching a Lynch film feels like.

Leave alone my expectations of a coherent plot, can we talk about Lynch’s weird fascination with bizarre violence and sexual deviancy? There are always some fucking wierdo rapists / general deviants, who get extremely and unpredictably violent, while maintaining an “aura of mystery” achieved by just being strange creeps. I’m honestly clueless as to what Lynch tries to do with these characters.

Don’t get me started on the violence. Lynch has some strange, strange ideas of blood and guts. I’m sure you could write volumes upon volumes on how nonsensical Lynch’s use of violence is. Sure, I’ll concede that it is absolutely gnarly to so frequently see people still conscious with their brains half damaged, stumbling about mumbling, but it is so out of place and pointless, it just makes you question why you’re being shown it. Wild at Heart (1990), contains scenes of a man being beaten until there’s a fist sized hole in his head, a man accidentally blasting his head off with a shotgun, with the head somehow staying intact but detaching from his neck, shooting into the air bringing the man’s esophagus with it, and another man writhing around in his own blood searching for his shot-off hand, which has been repossessed by a cute, hungry dog.

It just doesn’t make sense. It’s almost comical. In fact, it is comical. If David Lynch had made The Room, and just thrown in a few exploding body parts and strange hallucinations, they would’ve hailed it as a masterpiece for years. You know what? I think Lynch might be one of the greatest comedic directors out there.

Final thoughts: I hate to contradict myself, but David Lynch really is a master of cinema, and the only valid way to appreciate him is to go “Huh, that’s fucking weird”. It’s simply just absurdist comedy.

Why have they locked-me-down-and-out of Luthers bar?

I get why they cancelled lectures, I get why they closed schools but I, just like the scores of students who used to pack out our favourite watering hole each night, wake up crying “when can we go back to Luthers?”

They have the best pints of Guinness I’ve ever drunk, I know the tinned stuff is almost as good as the way they serve it, but I miss the signature metallic taste of a Luthers’ pint. Where else serves it lukewarm, headless and in a plastic pint pot, just like the Irish intended? I would go so far as to say it is the best pint of Guinness anywhere on earth, and I would know, I once spent a weekend in Dublin and had a single pint of it at the airport.

But the cocktails – who can forget? No other bar could ever compete. Who needs an Old Fashioned when you can have a jug of wine spritzer or a double gin and Tango!? But it was the Diesel which kept the buzz of the electric atmosphere going each night, like some crazed machine. Just like Henry Ford (who invented petrol or whatever), the dude who first mixed lager, cider and ‘black’ should be regarded as one of the great minds of the 20th century. I and all my mates would drink it by the gallon each night in the bar, packed-out not just with white t-shirt socials but the regular student crowd who were totally in there too, each and every evening.

To those who say Luthers has become rough and rowdy lately, at least you could never say it has ever locked up early. (Until it did – for three months.) It is frankly appalling that as other places open up, the regulars of Luthers continue to be locked out and forced to drink with their mates on Zoom. I think I speak for every student when I say we all want to be in a grey concrete basement, listening to loud music you can’t control. I for one am going to camp out in a tent by the foot of the door until we’re let back in! I think Martin Luther himself would join me in my support of this – the protest we really need right now.