Top 5 strange things at Newcastle University in 2020

Because 2021 is somehow already weirder and worse than 2020, The Lampoon is here to remind you of the good old days of last year… decade… century? Who knows anymore? Either way, let’s look back at the some of the “highlights” of our beloved Newcastle University’s recent history.

5. The rebirth of Newfess

Famously, uni students – who hate themselves already – didn’t have enough places on the internet to get into pointless arguments. To fill the gap, Newfess II, or Twofess (it’ll catch on) rose up from the ashes of its marginally better predecessor. Newfess I was a place to confess that you shat yourself on your first ever date (okay, that was just me), or that you have a weird fetish for TAK’s feet (again, that was just me). Twofess (I told you) became a place filled with more hatred than Donald Trump’s Twitter, which is of course much easier in 2021.

4. The homophobic survey

University distributed homophobia was not on our list of expectations for the year, but then as the university continually disappoints, the bar is lower than a PGR’s salary. The survey insinuated that gay people have predatory behaviour, an old-fashioned outdated stereotype propagated by 80s media. Certain students should perhaps refrain from moral panic about fictional sexual harassers and focus on the real ones allowed on campus.

3. The frog poem

The worst thing to involve frogs and solidarity in hard times since Paul McCartney made the Frog Chorus song. After the poem debacle, the University soon got the message that students wanted them to actually do something productive to benefit the wellbeing and the degree outcomes of students. Hint Hint. Chris. Hint Hint.

2. A first year student did not get covid

Barnaby, aged 19, a resident of Castle Leazes, was surprised to note that despite the whole building being riddled with COVID-19, as well as the bubonic plague given the age of that place, he did not present a single symptom. Days after noting this to authorities, he tested negative for the virus. Barnaby has since been transferred to Oxford, to be studied as a medical anomaly.

“Daddy is so proud of me managing to upgrade my university,” Barnaby told a Lampoon journalist.

It has been noted that Barnaby’s flatmates are rather glad to “have gotten rid of the posh twat”.

1. An in-person lecture

Remember the distant memory of January 2020, before the pandemic, before the strike before the pandemic, a second-year lecture took place in person in the Old Library building. Unfortunately, only 15 minutes of the two hour lecture was able to take place due to two interruptions of the fire alarm. The students did not realise that this was the last time they would set foot on campus. If they did, they would likely have shoved the canteen cook’s burnt sausages somewhere that has been redacted for the sake of the reader.

Chris Day reportedly “nervous people are going to start making 1984 analogies any day now”

Sources close to members of Chris Day’s inner circle report he has on more than one occasion expressed that he is worried about people comparing the current situation to George Orwell’s dystopian classic 1984.

An aide for the Head of The Department of Spunking Hundreds of Millions of Pounds on Ugly New Buildings went on record yesterday to claim that they had personally heard Mr. Day express fears that the University’s “brazen and extremely talented and well-opinionated student press” would begin drawing comparisons between the current climate and George Orwell’s ‘1984’.

“I’m literally fucking shaking and crying right now.”

Chris Day, allegedly.

One can only speculate on what basis Vice Chancellor Day has these fears, so that is what we will do. Perhaps it could have something to do with the fact that the University recently saw fit to use up to £125,000 of student tuition fees on expanding Operation Oak – the police crackdown on “anti-social behaviour” in student areas.

Why, I wonder, in a cultural climate where a general feeling of living in a surveillance police state is being felt daily, someone might have some thoughts about the University literally paying police to patrol and harass students.

I mean really, surely rumours of plain-clothes police officers lurking around student areas looking for people to issue 10k pound fines to, and students being encouraged to report on their neighbours don’t harken back to any dystopian fiction, and certainly not a dystopian fiction that is touted almost every day on Twitter as “prophetic”.

Personally, I believe his fears are completely unfounded. Comparisons to 1984 should be reserved for when people are mean to you after you make racist comments online. Everyone knows that the only freedom that matters is the freedom to be an asshole online. That, however, is just my opinion.

At press time, a press release was release to the Lampoon office via a sticky note on a brick detailing a pre-emptive denial of any potential future allegations that the Vice Chancellor was a malevolent cosmic entity hell-bent on the reclamation of the universe. The document went on to state that Chris Day was not an acronym for “Acrid Hys or Adris Chy, or any other equally malicious sounding moniker”, and was in fact the Vice Chancellor’s “bonafide, 100% real, given birth name”.

Disclaimer; if it wasn’t already glaringly obvious, this is a work of satirical fiction, and should not be taken as factual.

Chris(mas) Day’s Christmas Day: the inside scoop

Christmas is a season of joy, exchanging presents, feigning joy over said presents, and stalking.

You read that correctly: stalking. One of the most popular and influential Christmas songs to date does include the lyric “he sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake,” after all. So when the opportunity came up to sneak into the household of Chris Day for the investigative scoop of the century, our dubious moral code meant we couldn’t say no.

How did this come about? Well, settle down and I shall reveal the full story.

It came to our attention that the Day household was seeking to employ staff to cook and serve the Christmas Dinner on the 25th. After all, COVID-19 was taking the day off, as confirmed by Johnson, so it was okay to not wear a mask. Obviously that did not mean Day was going to interact with or associate with the staff. That simply is not done. We selected our least controversial Toon Lampoon journalist (most of our reporters are instantly recognisable from the warrants out for their arrests), clothed them in one of the many maid costumes from the editor’s office (we don’t want to know what’s going on there after-hours) and sent them on their way. Our reporter gave us the full story as to what happened next.

The staff turned up at the crack of dawn to begin preparations for the Christmas breakfast and lunch (unlike the preparations for semester two from the university, which still seem to be as clear as mud). Our reporter was surprised to see elite foodstuffs like caviar, porridge seasoned with gold dust and avocado toast – but this makes sense, considering how Day earns £373,600 a year. Breakfast was served in the third dining room with solid gold cutlery and portraits of previous Day patriarchs staring down at us from their gilded frames. Our reporter swears one of the portraits blinked so there is the possibility that Chris Day is also a wizard, but we cannot be certain.

Then there would have been the exchanging of the presents, but this occurred via Zoom. Our reporter was able to keenly observe this morning ritual whilst topping up everyone’s drinks of festive mulled blue trebs (the recipe for which was created by a student and left on the university cloud before the data hack, meaning it could have been an inside job – see, we can do proper investigative journalism!). Not only did only half of the family members turn up to this Zoom meeting, entitled “Forced Family Meeting”, but the half that did turn up did not even have their cameras on! The call ended up with the Days opening presents in silence and family members mysteriously losing their WiFi connection so they couldn’t rejoin…

If the breakfast was an elaborate affair, then the lunch was practically a royal banquet! No vouchers for the NUSU Co-op vouchers in sight. Our reporter, who hadn’t been given any solid food for the past three months, was salivating at the sight. Before they could begin eating, a prayer was read out: not a Christian one, but a weird untranslatable language. Definitely a family of wizards.

Whilst the family was outside undertaking a walk of their property (namely Newcastle University) and the rest of the staff started to clean the plates, our fearless reporter took this opportunity to investigate the rest of the house. Notable discoveries include the the star on the Christmas tree in the foyer being a striking resemblance to Chris Day, and some sort of noise from the basement. Before these could be investigated further, the Days returned in time to watch the TV. If you are expecting them to have watched the Queen’s Speech, you would be sorely mistaken as they instead watched his virtual speeches like this one on repeat. No wonder the family soon found themselves in a drunken stupor, ended up in bed by 5pm and left the staff to finish the mulled trebs and 173-year old-whiskey. Coincidentally, that is where our reporter’s account finishes and which cannot account for why the reporter was found half naked at the top of Grey’s Monument this morning by police officers.

What have we learnt from this piece of investigative journalism then (we promise we won’t make a habit of it)? The Days lead an elite lifestyle and are potentially a group of wizards with people trapped in their basement. More importantly, we now cannot use this reporter for future undercover work since they have now got a warrant out for their arrest (for public indecency and other related crimes). You just can’t get the staff these days…

Featured image: Pxhere

Cyber attack uncovers Wattpad fan fiction “My mum sells me to Chris Day”

The devastating cyber attack conducted on Newcastle University has uncovered Wattpad-style fan fiction on university servers, entitled “My mum sells me to Chris Day – Newcastle University AU Fanfic”. The news came as a shock to university higher-ups, who were surprised the Vice Chancellor had fans.

Over a month after the cyber attack, Newcastle students are still unable to access S3P, and their timetables have been thrown into chaos. Meanwhile, Vice Chancellor Chris Day can no longer play solitaire on his computer.

It would of course be highly inappropriate to run excerpts from this work of fiction, but it might be funny, and in the interests of free press we feel we have to.

I sat up in bed and threw my hair into a messy bun. The morning sun was just rising, sending light up my wall and over the extra-large poster of Chris Day’s face.

I stood up and stretched. As I studied the prospectus for Warwick University that was lying by my feet, I could hear my mum barrelling up the stairs. She opened the door and leant on the doorknob, her shock of frazzled auburn hair betraying how stressed she was. She looked me up and down with disgust.

“That won’t do at all. Put something nice on: we have a visitor. And put some make-up on.”

“But I don’t wear make-up.”

“I don’t care David!”

The door slammed behind her, and I could hear her rumble down the stairs again. I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, and started putting on something more figure-hugging.

Eventually, I made it down the stairs, and walked into the kitchen. My heart sank faster than Newcastle University in The Guardian rankings.

“Are you here to tell me off again?” I asked Chris Day, who was leaning on the counter sensually.

“No,” came that ambiguous accent, part Geordie, all sex appeal.

“Then…” I looked at my mum, whose face was still stern. “Why are you here?”

“Well,” the silver fox replied, “your mum has sold you to me.”

I stared into Chris Day’s quizzical blue orbs.

“Sold me?”

“That’s right,” he said.

“I had to come up with the nine grand for your year of Zoom lectures somehow!” my mum cried.

Chris Day walked over in a confident stride.

“You’re mine now.”

I realised he was holding pink fluffy handcuffs, and a whip. For now, the whip was as lax as Newcastle University’s policy on sexual harassment, but I know that would change.

He took me in his confident arms and [REDACTED] me on the mouth. Then he turned me over and ripped off my clothes, before hungrily [REDACTED] me all over. He found my [REDACTED] and put it in his [REDACTED] while I shoved his throbbing [REDACTED] in my [REDACTED]. He [REDACTED] me all day with just [REDACTED] and a lemon.

“Oh, [REDACTED]!” I cried, while he [REDACTED], [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] me.

Two of our literary editors – a dominatrix with whom we hotdesk, who has a PhD in renaissance literature, and a Lampoon writer who’s read most of Moby Dick – have decided the other three hundred pages are not suitable for publication.

The Lampoon have attempted to track down the author of the fanfiction, but nothing has been found apart from the username ‘Belieber04’. A spokesperson for Newcastle University has denied that this is a pseudonym for Chris Day, even though we never actually asked them.

Chris Day asks “What’s the worst someone could do with your full name and address?”

Newcastle University Vice Chancellor Chris Day reassured students today by asking, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“The only thing these cyber criminals are holding to ransom is your personal data, and no harm’s ever come from that being leaked.”

He added, “Rest assured our IT people are working as fast as they can on solving the problem, substantially slower than the IT criminals are creating the problem.”

For those not in the know, Newcastle University was recently hit by a cyber attack. The criminal organisation responsible may or may not have links to a group that is literally called Evil Corp.

Living in a spy film is less fun than you might imagine, especially a badly written one.

The Lampoon’s job is to write stuff that’s too ridiculous to believe, which is getting more and more difficult. By current projections, we’ll be out of business in twelve minutes.

In our office – a sex dungeon in the city centre – we’ve had to install a spinning game show wheel full of unlikely circumstances. The idea is you spin the wheel twice and then try and connect them with whatever verb sounds the funniest. 

Last year, we were spitballing ideas while the dominatrices with whom we hotdesk were spitroasting us. The wheel had landed on “global pandemic” and “cyber attack”, but we ruled both out for being too far-fetched, particularly within months of each other.

More follows. God knows what, and how horrific, but if there’s one thing we can count on, it’s that more is coming.

The headline for this article was written by Muslim Taseer. In an ideal world, I’d be good enough at WordPress to list the article as having multiple authors, but what part of the world seems ideal to you?

Vice-Chancellor expresses “serious concerns” over the 50 ft wicker man outside his office

The Vice-Chancellor of Newcastle University, Chris Day, has detailed his worries about the 50 ft wicker man that was erected outside his office last week. The student population’s dim view on Day’s “inaction” has resulted in a fractured relationship that seems to have reached a tipping point.

Following the University’s decision last month to sack 16% of the politics department, a student group built the 50 ft wicker man outside of the King’s Gate building. The leader of the student protests, who wished to remain anonymous, said very little, mostly repeating the phrase “the time is now, the flames will come!”

The Lampoon spoke to the Vice-Chancellor about the latest addition to Newcastle’s skyline, after we forced our way into his office. The Vice-Chancellor seemed poorly composed when we arrived, shouting “Oh God! You’re not with them are you? Tell me you’re not with them! I’ve been stuck here for a week!”

After calming down, Chris Day gave a measured response to the protesters and their monolith outside.

“I’m not scared of them you know. It takes quite a lot to scare me and this sorely misses the mark. Don’t get me wrong, I have some serious concerns about their little project outside, but I’m not letting it get to me.”

“My message to students would be ‘don’t join these individuals’: they’re not cool. However, if you’re already involved, I would ask that everything stays cool, if you know what I mean.”

Since our reporter left King’s Gate, the protests haven’t ceased. With no end to the conflict in sight, The Lampoon will continue to update readers on the latest developments.

Vice-Chancellor releases smooth jazz album to help students and staff relax

Vice-Chancellor Chris Day has released a free smooth jazz album for Newcastle University students and staff, in order to help them relax in these “trying times”.

In a statement on Twitter, Professor Day said “After the wild success of the toad poem, I knew more would have to be done eventually to help assuage the fears of our staff and students in the current climate. Thankfully, due to my modest income, I was able to hire a reasonably priced saxophone teacher and backing band, as well as legendary producer Nile Rodgers, to give life to this passion project.

“I want the absolute best for the university and its denizens, so long as the money keeps rolling in.” Professor Day added “I know that staff are worried about their income and the future of their work, for this I recommend track five, Hard Work ft. Theo Katzman.

“Many of our students are concerned about their education. They’re worried about the quality of the teaching they’ll receive remotely, given that we’ve told students for years that just watching the ReCap isn’t sufficient. They also fear for their employability once they’ve graduated, as many won’t receive the same level of practical experience as they would have in the before times.”

Our reporter couldn’t find any more of the Vice-Chancellor’s statement. At The Lampoon, we can’t believe he’d just not address students’ concerns, so it’s probably Twitter making a mistake, right? Right?

The Needle Drop gave the album a “strong 3” whilst Pitchfork gave it a 3.2.