Razz My Berries Issue 9: Mischief and Monsters

razz my berries ISSUE 9

WINTER 2011

mischief and monsters

!

editor Anna Holden

editor Jess Weeks

www.razzmag.wordpress.com facebook: Razz My Berries Magazine

twitter: @razzmag

!"#$%#&'()#"*#)+%#,%-)#.//0%#"(#)"#*.,1#"0)#2"(%#3",)'3)#)+%#

%1.)"(/#')#('442'5652'.783"2#

‘RAZZ MY

BERRIES!’ is

fifties slang

meaning

impress or

excite me.

the team

editors Anna Holden & Jess Weeks

features editor Antonia Hawken

features sub-editors Sophie Christiopher & Cyan Turan

creative writing editor Greg Hoare

creative writing sub-editor Rebecca Lodder

publicity/social officer Kate Hird !

proofed by… Anna Holden, Jess Weeks, Greg Hoare, Kate Hird,

Rebecca Lodder, Kelly

Robinson, Tom Clark and

Olwen Hills

image Robert Herron

cover Tom Clark

a letter from the editors

Welcome to the ninth issue of Razz My Berries, the University of

Exeter’s arts and lifestyle magazine! Razz is a collaboration of

student artists, writers, and designers, aiming to showcase the

best of Exeter’s creative talent. We are Anna and Jess, your

society presidents and editors for 2011/12.

In this issue we’ve got all sorts of MISCHIEF and a few MONSTERS

as well. Ever wondered what it would be like to chat to Pan

from the Labyrinth? Check out pages three and four for Razz’s

interview. On page eleven, we explore why it is that people

love to be scared, and we have a head to head debate on

pages five and six.

If you’re feeling creative, we’ve got the perfect piece on

customising your clothes and making accessories at Meme

(page seven). Not your thing? Turn to our poetry and prose

section of creative writing (page twenty five).

We hope this issue thoroughly

Keep creative,

Anna and Jess

RAZZ 2

I am ashamed to say I am a little nervous as I

enter the labyrinth. Left and right come, then right again and left. I claw my little diagram as I

move into the dark. My fears are not allayed when I first regard the fawn; his entire mass

seeming of little more than rotted wood and bone. He bows as he sees me, although the effort seems to ricochet through his spine,

reaching a climax at his shoulders and threatening to topple his head. Nevertheless, I

persevere and pulling my little pad and pen from my pocket, begin our discussion.

I start at the beginning and ask about

life in the underworld. To this he fervently

shakes his head and begins his response. His voice, however, comes in gnarled splinters of

sound, each word meeting like the snapping of twigs, and I cannot understand. I shake my head in agreement nonetheless and attempt

to move on. I ask him instead about life as a fawn and the difficulties this brings about. To

this he pauses and begins again. This time I nod in a show of solidarity but once again must admit that, while his tone suggests he

enjoys his lifestyle, I cannot really interpret his retort.

I suggest that he might like a glass of water but his face assures me that I am wrong.

an interview with Pan razz DELVES into the LABYRINTH…

RAZZ 3

A long pause follows. He continues to watch

me. I try once more. “Would you consider yourself a force for good or evil?’ This he

ponders for some time, his twisted fingers finding their place at the root of his skull. He replies once more. I try extremely hard this

time. I listen intently. It is at this point that I realise that he is

in fact speaking Spanish. I enquire as to whether or not he might agree to a translator

and he is instantly on his feet, his arms and shoulders billowing sideways and accompanied by a corresponding movement

from his head. I try to apologise but he will no

longer speak. Instead his pronged hand moves swiftly to snatch the map from within my grasp

and replace it with a large leather book. By the time I gather my head and look

up once more, the fawn has disappeared. I open the book. The pages bleed blackness until words begin to form amongst the pools of

fluid. Unfortunately the book is also written in Spanish, so without further ado I jump from my

feet and searching my memory, begin tenuously to seek my way out.

!

words Lucy Dale

illustration Sarah Grieve

RAZZ 4

In September this year a Royal Navy sailor was found guilty of murdering his colleague on board a nuclear submarine. Ryan Donovan had delusions of grandeur and was obsessed with the video game Grand Theft Auto. Apparently he particularly enjoyed the game’s "kill frenzy" feature.

This case, the latest in a long line of crimes which have been linked to the proliferation of videogames, begs the question: why are there still people who doubt the connection between violence on screen and violence in real life? Surely the very idea that we’re breeding murderers in our own homes is an abhorrent one which warrants immediate attention?

Grand Theft Auto, the primary culprit, has sold more than 35 million copies worldwide, with sales approaching $2 billion. It presents a 360 degree world of virtual depravity, allowing its users to embark upon a journey wrought with murder, theft and brutal violence. There are hundreds of thousands of young people who play these games continuously for longer than they engage with any other single activity and there are even treatment centres for video game addiction. As a society, we acknowledge that the entrenchment of screen-based ‘entertainment’ is not a good thing, but we don’t seem to be brave enough to admit that the damage goes beyond the superficial and seeps into the minds of young people.

Maybe that’s because parents underestimate the ways in which these medias can undermine their own nurturing. Intentions are a wonderful thing, but even the ‘best’ parenting can be lost on a 20-hour-a-day gaming habit. Sowing the seeds of a good, virtuous child is not a foolproof method of assuring lifelong protection from the superior nurturing of other, arguably more powerful, influences.

I would suggest that, over time, the player subconsciously projects their own identity onto the protagonist in the game. The more you control the perpetrator of murder on screen, the sooner the detachment that is at first felt between player and character degenerates. The one behind the controls starts to identify with the on-screen killer and begins to see themselves in the image. Devin Moore went on a police-killing spree, taking one gun from an officer and

shooting three others with it. Moore

was obsessed with Grand Theft Auto and, once captured, told police "Life's like a video game.”

The primary difference between video games and films resides in the continuity of video games and the level of attention demanded by the player. Although films can undoubtedly be just as violent, their duration restricts the danger of art becoming life, nor do they cast the viewer in the same position as player: in films, the audience is not actively implicit in violence. In essence, snapshots of violent behaviour in films rarely capture the imagination over an extended period of time in the same way that video games do.

I have not yet distinguished between male and female gamers. However, the irrefutable fact remains that most of the killers whose crimes have been found to be video game-related are men. Without wishing to inflame the defensive impulses of the male gender any further, I wish to suggest that the problem stems from the old stalwart: male pride. In the case of Ryan Donovan, the sailor apparently told his colleagues that he would one day be famous. Video games give the impression that male tyranny is positive, that notoriety is desirable and that control is essential. By assuming the role of controller, or perpetrator, the game gives the player a psychological boost which, over an extended period of time, acts as an addictive stimulus to the male ego. Power is contagious, particularly if the player in question has become increasingly isolated from the conduct of real life. The masculine on-screen killer portrays an intoxicating image of unrelenting superiority which appeals to men who, in the public space, feels marginalised.

And thus the root of the problem is deceptively simple: extreme lack of human contact. There is a reason why most players of video games do not become psychopathic murderers and that is because they enjoy a healthy balance and treat the consumption of video games as a pleasurable escape. The relationship between real life player and on-screen perpetrator is not sustained or developed to the extent that the player identifies with the character they control. However, extreme addiction to video games can and does occur over time, and it is about time that society realised the dangers of an interdependent relationship between screen and life.

gaming: on the one hand, on the other hand razz editors Jess and Cyan debate the dangers of gaming

ON THE ONE HAND, Cyan: Not just a game words Cyan Turan image Jess Weeks

RAZZ 5

ON THE OTHER HAND, Jess: Game on…

The link between crime and gaming is salivated over by the press at every possible instance as if there mere touch of a controller will turn you into a raging sociopath.

The fact of the matter is that no conclusive scientific studies have yet proven the link between gaming and crime (and these include studies by Harvard and the British Medical Journal). The connection is nebulous at best, an often-exploited headline used to terrify frantic mothers worrying about sons and their Xboxes, rather than a concrete scientific fact.

If we consider statistically the amount of gaming in relation to the amount of crime the crossover seems relatively little. The amount of people who enjoy bouts of Fifa, Grand Theft Auto, World of War Craft, Modern Warfare (and so on) is in the millions – yet we don’t see millions roaming the streets attempting to maim passers by with swords or charm them with amulets. I play Mario kart a reasonable amount but I don’t often pause to chuck a banana behind me as I’m running to campus and then proclaim ‘Jess is gonna win’ as my fellow students are slowed by my ingenious trick.

Even hardcore gamers, who game for the majority of the day and night and are climbing in numbers into the hundreds of thousands, if not millions, do not often (if ever) grace the newspapers after recreating game violence. I’m not defending large amount of screen-time and the social difficulties it produces but these are not crimes, and often not even dangerous (apart from perhaps to a social life and obesity levels).

Crime linked to gaming is limited to singular (although often horrific) incidences and even in these incidences to deem gaming the sole determining factor or motivation behind the crime would be reductive and simplistic. Understanding the motivations of a killer or criminal is a

challenge even criminal psychologists cannot always undertake successfully. To suggest gaming as some great monstrous demon forcing the hands and brains of gamers is to deny humans the agency they have in their crimes and ignore other factors that may be at work.

To blame the male ego for males as the main culprits of game-related aggression is to ignore key statistics (as well as making a sweeping generalisation) - the majority of game-players are still males so statistically it is far more likely that game related crime will be committed by males. To make assumptions that this is somehow related to an essential male ego is to generalise in the extreme. Do women not enjoy a power kick now and then too? Or are we still in the kitchen, too meek to tear down a drag strip on Grand Theft Auto?

Of course this is beside the point, the point is that games offer us a means of escape - just as books, music and film has done for many years. Although there is no active interactive role with these mediums that does not mean we don’t interact with them. Please introduce me to the person who does not occasionally imagine himself or herself a part of a world they read of or watch (I’ve definitely attempted to levitate items here and there…sadly my Hogwarts invite remains lost in the post). Games offer a more explicit mode of interaction yes, but equally books, films and music have all been indicted as causing crime previously (anybody else remembers that old myth that playing stairway to heaven backwards was a call to satan?). Despite this the majority of us remain law-abiding citizens.

It seems naïve of us to assume that a single game, or single book can force a person to commit a crime. Dependence on any single thing – be it a screen, a novel or even a person is unhealthy, it is not just a dependence on gaming. Maybe it’s time we didn’t hate the game but turned our eyes to the players…

words Jess Weeks image Jess Weeks

RAZZ 6

course it is easier with a sewing machine

(you can get a reasonable quality one for £39 from Argos that does the job).

The different ‘personality kits’ in

Meme suit everyone, such as patterns for skirts in varying lengths and styles. You simply pick your fabric and pattern, ranging from the simplest ‘Ella’ mini skirt,

which works out at about £9 to make, to the more advanced ‘Tia’ tiered Olsen twin-esque maxi. For embellishment,

Meme’s has ‘inspiration jars’, full of buttons, ribbons, velvet trims, beads, sequins, bows etc, selling from just 80p, allowing you to

create whatever you want for less. For a student well into their

overdraft, and still sadly holding the fear of

being seen in the same dress twice on Facebook, making your own clothes or embellishing old pieces is the answer. For

example, one display shows a staple Primark black round neck T, which has been adorned with two pieces of lace to create a stylish collar. Suddenly you have

something you can wear night and day, which is so simple, but very effective. I even spoke to Katrina about my SSB dance

team costumes, and she gave me some really helpful ideas to keep them striking yet affordable.

Katrina and her staff can help whether you have an outfit in mind, an idea for your perfect 21st birthday dress,

need a mask for a masquerade ball, a fancy dress costume, or want to alter your favourite clothing for the perfect fit.

For those worrying about Christmas, Katrina also offers some good ideas for cheap handmade presents that don’t cost

much but are something a little different and thoughtful, such as: o previously mentioned skirt kits – make

one for a friend or give a budding

designer a new challenge. o a classic scarf – choose from a range

of velvet, textured jersey or a small

length of printed silk. o hair bands embellished with feathers

or beads.

o a bias maker sewing tool - an easy peasy way to cheat at hems.

o lavender pillows, appliqué cushions to

decorate flats, and simple Cath Kidston style tote bags. So why not go down to Meme’s, have

a look around and a chat? Even if you don’t buy anything, the staff are happy to talk it through and that’s what

encapsulates the creative spirit of the hidden gem that is Meme.

Exeter’s Gandy Street is known for its little

boutiques and independent shops, but tucked just around the corner on Upper Paul Street is a uniquely creative clothes

haven. Rolls and rolls of fabric in every pattern, colour and texture you can imagine line the walls - from the cheapest cotton prints to top end designers such as

Alexander McQueen’s famous reptile print. Imaginative displays of catwalk highlights and ‘make your own’ diagrams offer ideas

and inspiration in exquisite detail. ‘Meme’ is just over a year old

and, aside from the extensive fabric

collection that makes the shop so special, is the creative pattern service and friendly advice offered by owner Katrina White.

Ever since she was a teenager, Katrina has felt frustrated by the boring prototype patterns and ill-fitting clothing on the high

street, preferring to shape clothes to suit each person’s figure and style.

Meme started quietly but soon built up a community of returning

customers, who brought their friends, and so the circle grew. Even as I was chatting to Katrina, a mother came in asking after a

starter skirt kit for her young daughter, and the two were soon engrossed in discussing the design. This shared common interest far

surpasses the usual shop-owner-to-customer relationship. Katrina told me: “People come in with problems or ideas,

for example, of their ideal evening gown. We discuss the idea, and try our best to help solve the problem. We see it as a

challenge!” Katrina lives and breathes the

fashion world, keeping an eye on all the

upcoming trends from the catwalk, but equally she loves high street styles and finds the interaction between the two fascinating. She often visits London for

inspiration, but says Exeter’s own creative mishmash of people is reflected in the variety of clothing; everyone is different,

and clothing reflects your personality and style.

The beauty of altering and

creating your own clothing is that it fits better, is usually cheaper and looks different to the ‘Topshop dress’ that

everyone else is wearing. The recent boom in sewing, knitting, and ‘making your own’ (as seen in brands such as Cath

Kidston) has got people creating again. Katrina agreed people still don’t realise how easy it is, and by producing

something yourself you get a sense of satisfaction that cannot be bought. Of

For an exclusive

15% off at

Meme, just

quote ‘mischief

and monsters’

in store!

words Kate Hird image Ellena Deeley illustration Meme

RAZZ 7

creative

chic

on

the

cheap razz’s publicist, Kate, shows you how you can be

ORIGINAL and CREATIVE with your CLOTHING for less

than you think… RAZZ 8

Children = mischief. This is a statement that I have

witnessed to be true across

cultures. Over the summer I spent three weeks volunteering at an

orphanage/school, ‘Living Water Children’s Centre’, in Arusha,

Tanzania. The

children I taught,

played and

interacted with were

young, carefree

and quite honestly,

the

happiest individuals

I have ever met. I embarked upon my

adventure with an open mind, though I never believed I would

meet so many children who would impact so much upon my

life. Every single one possessed a unique personality, likes, dislikes,

and a story that could easily break your heart. Take Angel for

example, a seven year old girl who was brought to the centre

on my third day of volunteering. She spoke very limited English,

owned only the clothes she came

in and a small, dirty rucksack of personal items. I later found out

her mother was dying of breast cancer and was HIV positive. Her

father also had HIV and hadn’t

long to live, and her eldest

brother was an alcoholic.

Angel had no family she

could rely upon

anymore. Just five days later,

she wore a

tartan skirt, stripy top and

a smile on her face, running around like any other mischievous

seven year old. Day after day the children

never failed to make me smile, laugh and at times, cry. All of

them were so imaginative in their play and needed few material

objects to enjoy themselves – although of course, they

embraced presents from all the volunteers with open arms!

little monsters razz writer Jess shares her personal experience in Tanzania

with her own MISCHIEVOUS MONSTERS…

RAZZ 9

with our carrier bags filled with

socks and after some grabbing and shoving (as children often

do) each came away with covered up toes and a huge

smile. “Thank you teachers!” they cried at us and hugged us several

times over.

Something so simple made

the children so happy.

What was even nicer

to see was that the following

day all the socks had

been scrubbed by

hand and hung out to

dry. These children really cared about their possessions. Behind

the mischief and laughter were

genuine children who wanted an education, a family, and wanted

to be cared for and loved. Believe me when I say that these

children touched my heart and there is no possible way that I will

ever forget them and their mischievous ways. My little

monsters.

!

Whether it was old school

clapping games, singing beautiful songs, drawing with sticks in the

dirt or simply chasing after one another, there was always

something going on. The smiles on the children’s faces rarely

faded –

especially that of

Kelvin, a five year

old boy who wore

a rainbow striped

jumper and could

cheer anyone up

with his gorgeous

grin! Perhaps my most

memorable day of all was when

my mum (who was volunteering with me at the centre) and I

bought thirty pairs of socks from a second hand market to give to

the children. The previous day they had been discussing with us

how their feet were cold and how their socks were dirty and full of

holes. Thirty children swarmed us

words Jess Price

Tanzania images Jess Price

image Alex Appleby

RAZZ 10

Spine twisting little girls, aliens ripping through human chests, ghosts invading the safety of a family home, and individuals running through a wood with a shaky camera. These are just a few episodes on a very long list of scenes I find particularly difficult to watch. I will never, ever understand why some people enjoy being scared. I can’t see the appeal of being submerged in the kind of fear that leaves you traumatised and hiding under a blanket. I am not condemning those who do, in fact, I find it intriguing.

Picture, if you will, a young lady, walking around a costume shop in search of an item. It is crucial to note that at the time of entering the building the date was 29th October. She browses the shelves, and decides that whatever is required lies past a few small steps, beyond life-size figurines decked in ghoulish attire. The young lady has barely moved a few feet when an arm wielding a scythe is swung in her direction, belonging to one of the figures. Needless to say, she screams and decides her business lies elsewhere.

It might sound ridiculous to some, but I was genuinely terrified to go anywhere near the hauntingly dressed shapes for fear of another leaping out at me. I knew perfectly well I wouldn’t be harmed, but the concept of another form catching me off guard was too much to bear. Full credit should be given to the costume shop for truly entering into the spirit of things, I just may not ever return.

It is scientifically proven that when we experience fear we release the automated “fight or flight” response – raised heart rate, increased breathing pace, tense muscles and our brains poised for a quick and effective response. If the mind knows we’re under limited threat on our sofa, it experiences the adrenaline rush as pleasurable. The key to enjoyment lies in knowing how to properly gauge the risk of harm.

As the American psychiatrist Karl Menniger stated, “fears are educated into us”. This is most obviously seen during childhood, where we fear monsters in the cupboard or

The Fear Factor razz features editor Antonia Hawken asks why we hunger over horror…

RAZZ 11

under the bed, desperate not to let a limb dangle over the side in case something ghastly reaches out and grabs. Fear resides in the mind and is incredibly personal. Some find particular rides at Alton Towers terrifying, whilst others laugh. Many may find jumping from a bridge with a bungee enough to cause tears, but there are those who relish the rush: it appears to connect to the feeling of control. When it comes to horror, the brain obviously controls our response to the images, their focus to tap into the psychological. For example, ‘The Ring’ plays with a TV, an everyday object, and transforms it into a portal for terror, removing our regular association, known to fans of Freud as the Uncanny. These films aim to terrify by including episodes of normality, taking items we use and see, and altering them to a state where we no longer control them. Televisions are supposed to contain the images they project, but instead a monster crawls out. Cameras translate an image of a specific time, and pictures are unable to change; instead they blur depending on who has watched a deadly video tape, even after the flash.

The most common explanation as to why some enjoy these experiences is that they are happy to be unhappy, finding positivity in negativity. They relish being scared, and yet also experience relief when the threat is removed: flight or fight. Apart from actually enjoying the sensation of fear, it became apparent that those I spoke to felt they gained far more when watching a thriller, due to not fully knowing the conclusion. A good RomCom just doesn’t cut it, as more often than not the plot can be a “join the dots” experience. In a society where we are swamped by mundane routines that numb the senses, a jolt of fear reminds us that we don’t know it all, and we are in fact capable of feeling. As clichéd as it sounds, they can remind us that we are alive.

Perhaps we have nothing to fear but fear itself. Maybe being frightened is an experience you can’t buy, and “fear is only as deep as the mind allows” (proverb). One

words Antonia Hawken image Sophie Jukes

RAZZ 12

opportunity for this cheekiness on

every occasion – when asking one

student which job he would like to

do, his answer was ‘to love you.’

Flattering, but embarrassing. All I

could do was smile awkwardly

before asking the next question,

hoping that he might give me an answer along the lines I’d been

expecting. From my experience so

far, I have learnt to either wear a

very high-necked jumper, or a

thick scarf. Everything must be

covered at all times, and even

leggings can be a bit risky.

Yet despite their constant

need to ask my relationship status

or whether I would like to ‘make

party’ with them, they are mostly

really nice guys. But nice guys and

good students? I’m not sure if I

could say that for the majority.

Why try to speak English when it’s

clear that I understand what

they’re saying in French? When

they do try to speak English

though, I sometimes wish they

On finding out in the summer that I

would spend my year abroad in

France working as a teaching

assistant in a professional building

construction college, I panicked;

800 students, 90% of which would

be boys. This blonde English girl

was going to be eaten alive. In a way, it has been

how I imagined. Well, I

actually imagined they

would wear shiny yellow

hard hats or something,

which they don’t. But as

expected, they are much

more interested in my

phone number, how to

find me on Facebook,

or even whether my

hair colour is natural,

than discussing the

current issues in

my country, or

even asking

about England.

There seems

to be an

life working in a professional building construction college razz finds MISCHIEF abroad…

RAZZ 13

hadn’t. Last week, my favourite

questions were ‘what is English for

Happy Hour’ and ‘what is your

Christmas day?’ It would be

brilliant that if when asking their

age, they could just give me the

simple answer of ‘18’. Then we

wouldn’t have to go through the

troubles of ‘I have 18 old’, ‘I

have 18 years’, or even worse,

’18 O’clock.’ If they are able to

tell me they are 18 years old (or

even 19) by the end of these 7

months, I will feel a sense of

achievement.

But this seems to have

painted a very negative picture of my students. I’m

not going to go so far as to

say that they are a pleasure

to teach, but they are

definitely a pleasure to be

around – some of the

things they say really do

make my day. There are

some that are interested

in me beyond the fact

that I am a shiny new foreign girl –

these students realise that I might

actually be a way for them to

learn about English culture and

even learn some English. I studied

‘In Flanders Fields’ with a group of

20 year old boys, and they liked it.

Moments like that give me hope.

When I get to school, I

usually want to turn around and

run for the nearest bus as I see

them leering at me outside the

school gates. Instead, I tell myself

to!walk straight ahead as if I barely

even realise they’re there, hold my

head up high, and concentrate

on not falling up the entrance steps, as I very confidently walk

past. And after school, I usually

walk out admitting to myself that

it’s never as bad as I imagine and

that I really quite enjoy it at my

professional building construction

college. Even if the most important

question for them is always

whether England has kebabs too... !

!

words Hannah Franklin

image Ellie Walker-Arnott

RAZZ 14

here there be monsters razz lets loose in Book-Cycle…

RAZZ 15

photography Tom Clark

creative direction Anna Holden, Jess Weeks & Kate Hird

models Hannah Fortune, Mark Gibbs, Charlotte Black, Nathan Lawes & Nina Fairfowl

special thanks to Book-Cycle & Fantasy World

RAZZ 20

Razz took a trip

down to Book-

Cycle for the Mischief and Monsters

photo shoot. We found that this is not your everyday bookshop; here, you choose what you pay for

your books. But there is so much more to it than that.

The shop is the basis for a greater organisation, with the

primary goal of providing books for children in developing countries. The price you pay for your books serves

as your donation to the cause. Book-Cycle was created by

a ‘bin-raider’ in southeast England who discovered that, amongst other

things, he was finding good quality books being disposed of: “one man’s trash is another man’s

treasure!” Taking this philosophy, the founder started by forming free

libraries in abandoned buildings with the books he found, but

unsurprisingly enough, they didn’t last very long before being evicted. Eventually, in May 2007, the first

Book-Cycle store was opened, right here in Exeter! But wait, there’s

more… The charity’s philosophy is

that everyone should have access to

knowledge and information. It seeks to provide this, from links to free

university courses, to spreading

knowledge about environmental and

humanitarian issues. The organisation is firmly involved in being green. Their

cars and lorries are fuelled by recycled bio diesel whenever possible, and ponies are being

employed to transport books as well! They’re actively involved in

promoting nurture for nature in Exeter; their seed bank is open for

deposits, trade and purchase (via donation).

Razz definitely recommends

a visit to Book-Cycle, even if it’s just to have a chat with their lovely

volunteers! You never know what you might find in there, even some

mischievous monsters!

How you can be part of it: Volunteer There are several projects for you to get your hands dirty with.

Buy Books The heart of the charity. Your donations are needed to keep it

going so head down to West Street and see what you can find. A little

birdie told us she found quite a few of her course books hidden in there… Donate Books Keep the supply going,

the more people donate, the more there is to offer.

Send Books Book-Cycle’s partner charities are happy to accept direct

donations of books into their communities. Tree-Cycle Got a green thumb?

Donate saplings, or dive in planting seeds and trees!

DIY Create your own Book-Cycle! Start up a community anywhere, be it in your local or workplace. Visit the

website for a DIY guide.

from tree to book and back again razz gives you the INSIDE into BOOK-CYCLE…

words Anna Holden

image Alexis Mastroyiannis

Find out more www.book-cycle.org; www.facebook.com/bookcycleuk RAZZ 19

On Twelfth Night, in late medieval and early modern England, it was tradition to appoint a commoner as Lord of Misrule; a man, often a jester sort, who would sport a crown of holly and preside over the court for the day. This figure represented the world turned upside down as seasonal frivolities led to the role reversals of kings and commoners. Some accounts, however, portray a darker side to this mischievous fun that dated back to the pagan traditions of the festival Saturnalia. When the clock struck midnight, the Lord of Misrule’s term was over and he would be sacrificed to signify the world’s reversion to normality.

Surely, this seems a little overdramatic? The poor man only wanted to have a laugh. But, in my mind this example is significant. It begs the question when do the lines between mischief and menace begin to blur? And perhaps, more importantly: when does mischief turn us into monsters?

I suppose we are all guilty of causing offence when we only intended to provoke a bit of light-hearted banter. We are all subject to greed, vanity, envy and lust - just think of poor Dorian Gray! Inept at following our own cliché’s we may be, you know what they say about too much of a good thing, but surely this doesn’t make mankind inherently evil, only a little (or more than a little) flawed. Well, actually, biblical notions of original sin would suggest that due to man’s ‘heart of darkness’, we must spend a life atoning for our sins and begging forgiveness. Putting religion to one side, it seems that it’s a question of ethics. Aren’t our definitions of what is right and what is wrong founded on our own subjectivities, or is it that our desire to have fun and be

entertained carries us away? Take the example of this

summer’s riots – they were highly destructive to the owners of businesses, consumers, the general public as well as to the participants themselves. Following the inexcusable damage, debates ensued over the causes of the August riots, with many journalists asking, with participants including people such as models and Olympic ambassadors, can the riots really be seen as the voice of the discontented margins of society?

“It begs the question when do the lines between mischief and

menace begin to blur?” Was this a rebellion? While some of the protests are believed to have begun over the death of the 29 year old Mark Duggan, at the hands of a police officer during his arrest in August, many of the people involved might be seen as just getting carried away in a general spirit of anger and frustration. I wonder if some of the people who were involved didn’t realise the consequence of their actions and in such large numbers mischief just escalated into a monstrous event.

Both in popular literature and within society, therefore, it seems that we just can’t get the balance right. As Jack says in William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, ‘We’ve got to have rules and obey them. After all, we’re not savages.’ Or are we? The saying goes, that rules were made to be broken. But what happens when our laws and rules are ignored? Is it mere mischief or are we descending into a society of monsters?

From Mischief to Mayhem razz writer Charlotte Mason examines where the line between FUN and FEAR is drawn

words Charlotte Mason image Jess Weels RAZZ 22

razz

pro

file

s darker aspects of illustration, with

images that feel as if they bore into you. Her range of emotional

ties is expansive and makes her

work unique and brilliant.

Inspiration is drawn from a variety

of sources from traditional painters

such as Rembrandt to David Sringley and Brad Neely.

Anna aims to become a freelance

illustrator, and hopes to have her

work published by next year.

Find out more:

www.monkeyrattle.blogspot.com

An

na

Rile

y

Anna Riley is an upcoming illustrator

from Woking, Surrey currently studying illustration at Bournemouth University.

Anna has been drawing from a

young age and her style has

continued to develop significantly.

Her work features an eclectic mixture

of subjects and mediums. It ranges from fine art illustrations of people, to

comic, colourful designs of fantasy.

Mischief reigns dominant in her comic

work, with the bizarre and intricate

designs presenting characters you

wouldn’t have ever imagined.

However, Anna also delves into the

RAZZ 23

razz p

rofile

s Meet Pat Perry, an illustrator and artist born in Detroit, now a resident of Grand Rapids, Michigan. His clients include Urban Outfitters and Threadless and he counts his inspirations as ‘colourful people, music and the ordinary streets of the Midwest’. Using just pen, ink and paint (and occasionally Photoshop) he creates surrealist images that can’t help but get your imagination ticking. His work captures plays of colour and texture and combines them with strong

Pat Pe

rry

words Jess Weeks images Pat Perry

RAZZ 24

linework. The result is striking (and often bizarre) images that seem to have so many layers to decode and so much detail to examine. What is fascinating is to see the intimate pages of his sketchbook (which you can see on his website under ‘process’). There is little colour here - only simple and brief biro lines: the intense crosshatched and scribbled details tell some unfathomable story on every page. See more at www.patperry.net

personal or social demons whilst

telling strange and heartbreaking stories.

But in Blue Velvet (1986), Lost Highway (1997) and Mulholland

Drive (2001), Lynch begins to explore

the notion of what really makes a monster, and whether we all have

the capability of becoming one. It tackles the flaws and horrors that

may lurk behind painted doors and white picket fences, and how madness of addiction and a lack of

self-control can turn us all into monsters. No one is quite what they

seem here, and characters have the potential to be magical, beautiful

and utterly terrifying.

“the idea of monsters and ‘freaks’

fascinate and amuse us”

For example, in Blue Velvet

a clown-faced man at a party

entertains guests by being on the other end of a telephone while he

stands next to them, eerily smiling. Or Mulholland Drive, one of the most perplexing of all the Lynch films, and

one of the most beautiful, features what is – in my humble opinion- the

most terrifying monster. This particular character takes the form

of a half-human man who lurks behind bins at the back of a café, and quite why he is so frightening, I

can’t really describe. He just simply, spine-chillingly is. Lynch is not really

trying to challenge our universal flaws and fears with these films, but perhaps our more personal ones.

Many of these characters, though strange, have something

frighteningly real about them; a laugh, a glance, just something. I

think, Lynch might be questioning whether we all have the potential to be this monstrous. And that’s why his

scary monsters frighten the Dickens out of me.

If you know the work of filmmaker,

director and visual artist, David Lynch, you’ll know he revels in the

dark and disturbed, the unexplained and grotesque. The stories he tells in his films are confusing yet

compelling, and his characters are beautifully monstrous. From

physically grotesque creatures and half-humans, to Hollywood

housewives, Lynch gives us a taste of them all. But I wonder, why is Lynch’s work so riddled with monsters and

the bizarre? In Eraserhead (1977), we

meet perhaps the most innocent of all Lynch’s monsters, when Mary X,

Henry Spencer’s girlfriend, gives birth to a peculiar slimy birdlike creature. As it relentlessly screams, Henry

struggles with how to cope. It’s a nightmarish film, typical of Lynch,

where we encounter roast chickens that ooze and twitch, mutated singing ladies inside radiators and

screaming women. But (apart from the lady in the radiator) it addresses

fears we have all probably flirted with from time to time.

“Lynch is not really trying to

challenge our universal flaws and

fears with these films, but perhaps

our more personal ones”

The Elephant Man (1980)

considers how the idea of monsters and ‘freaks’ fascinate and amuse us.

This is particularly interesting perhaps as it’s a convention Lynch relies upon

in his own work. This film is split into three ‘gazes’ – the fairground, the hospital and the theatre, where the

exploitation of the ‘monster’, the elephant man, in each of these

environments really forces us to reflect upon the guilt we feel - or

should feel - for treating those who are different the way we do. Here Lynch is clearly addressing perhaps

words Imogen Buller image Jenna Payne

RAZZ 25

super monsters

or super creeps? razz explores David Lynch’s MONSTERS on SCREEN…

RAZZ 26

The colours blurred, running back and forth and back again. Black turned blue,

purple licked with orange, red twined with green. They flowed into the air and

hung before the canvas, before hitting it with silent force. They formed nothing

and everything in one breathy swirl.

Her wrist ached as she kept the pressure on the nozzle, the can emptying gradually as she shook it again and again between sprays. It felt hot in her hands

and her sweat-slicked palms slid over its surface. She switched between the

different colours from the duffel bag lying at her feet. Taking a quick glance over

her shoulder, she adjusted the hood of her jacket and aimed the can higher to

hit the top of the wall.

The circle of torch light was the perfect outline. She sprayed the length of the curve and followed it all the way round. It had taken her weeks of drawing and

planning to get the image just right. The curtain-twitching book club had begun

their seasonal preaching and she’d had enough. This would certainly give them

something to gossip about at Sunday Church. There would be talk of this one for

a long time. Maybe she’d even make the paper.

The hiss of the vapour as it left the can was the only sound but she knew she

would need to be vigilant to avoid getting caught. Her step-mother was already suspicious of the coloured specks on the sleeves of her jackets and tops of her

jeans. She had managed to convince her that most of the marks came from her

art classes at the studio on Mondays. When her clothes were going in the wash

covered in strange coloured dots on Fridays and Saturdays however, it was more

difficult.

She was nearly done. The edges stood out as she outlined them in black and

For the Bookclub

RAZZ 27

brought the lines outwards. They looked like part of the wall, cracking and fallen

away so that you could catch a glimpse of the world beyond. Crawling out of the

space was a large goblin creature, his mottled grey hands clasping onto the sides

as though he was ripping the wall apart. Large fangs protruded from rotting lips,

saliva dripping to the floor creating a puddle on the pavement. One clawed foot

was stepping over the break in the brick and was about to touch the street.

From afar the great beast looked to be climbing out of the side of the church. It

was as though he had been slumbering deep within its foundations, watching the

congregations come and go, breathing his foul breath over their prayers.

She sprayed a pentagon onto his breast over his heart for extra laughs. The quiet

village feared anything remotely satanic with an obsession bordering on the unhealthy. The ladies of the book club only read off a list pre-approved by the

pastor that he made sure did not contain ideas of temptation or wickedness.

She stood back; throwing the last empty can haphazardly over her shoulder as

she looked in awe at what she’d created. He was beautiful in the ugliest way. He

looked so alive it took her breath away and her foot inadvertently moved back a

step.

His eyes were red and glowing but she was sure she had painted them yellow.

The claws that had been tearing at the wall now looked to be reaching forwards,

stretching out for her neck. She could not move, her eyes glued to the huge

painted goblin that was no longer stuck on the side of the church. Before she

knew what was happening, black, crusted nails were curling in the folds of her

jacket.

Mrs Gladstone, Chair of the Lympton Village’s prized book club, was horrified at the state of things. Who could be so…so crass as to paint such an ugly thing on

the wall of a church no less! But what she could not understand was why the

beast held a black jacket in one of his hands, ripped at the edges. Or why, if you

looked hard enough, the silhouette of a young girl could be seen running into the

distance, the beast’s yellow eyes on her back watching her every move.

words Rebecca Lodder

image Sophie Jukes

prose

RAZZ 28

Halloween – the worst night of the year. Everyone knows it. It’s a night that strikes terror into all

our hearts. It’s the night you die. You’ve heard the stories? Of course you’ve heard them – everyone’s heard the stories. The man who comes along and steals you from your home at

night whilst you’re lying unawares. Tucked up, warm in the leafy suburb you live in when along he comes. That tall, ghostly figure – his skin, so white, almost translucent in the moonlight. You hear him approach, his heavy feet padding down the soft, damp earth nearby; a stick cracks

beneath his boot. You hold your breath, stay deathly still, praying that he walks on by, praying that you aren’t the one tonight. You feel sick – you know that awful sickly feeling when terror has

gripped your insides and won’t let go. He pauses – you can hear his heavy breath, panting in the darkness, somewhere above you because he’s closer now. You can’t pretend that he isn’t

your nightmare anymore; there’s no more closing your eyes and hoping he’ll go away because here he is. Here he is for you.

You are frozen. You can’t move. You can’t run or scream; you are trapped. A cloud is about to

pass overhead, obscuring the night’s only light, but before the sky darkens, you can see it. The glint of a blade. You close your eyes and pray.

Halloween words Megan Drewett

RAZZ 29

When you wake, you’re somewhere new. You fainted, clearly, blacking out in fear. Now you’re surrounded by steel and industrial appliances. Beside you, on the table where you

lay, there are rows of blades, knives and scalpels waiting to pierce your flesh. Your breath catches inside of you. You know what’s to come. When he appears again, he’ll take a

blade and with meticulous care, as though you were a piece of art, he’ll cut you open right around the middle, slicing through your flesh with his gleaming blade. Then, as you try to scream, he’ll carve out your insides, taking large gooey scoops until you’re left

practically empty. He’ll pause and though the pain will still run through you, there’ll be a brief reprieve. Until he starts again. This time he’ll scrape around inside you, ripping up your

innards as if he’s scraping along your very bones. If you could, you’d scream, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it.

Another pause. He’ll be cleaning up. Won’t like the mess you’ve caused him. Then he’ll be back, a few more quick slices and he’ll be done. You’ll lie waiting; what will he do with you now? Now he’s finished his piece of art? Oh. That’ll be it. It’ll be so clear then. He’ll light a

match. In some ways, you’ll almost be grateful – so thankful that the pain will be over soon. The flame will be almost there – hovering above you, and then... there it’ll be. The flame will

be deep within you and you’ll be alight from inside out. You’ll feel your own skin curl and blacken, slowly turning into ash and then, in a free bliss, you’ll slip away.

Yeah, that’s what Halloween has in store for you. It’s the worst night of the year for a pumpkin.!

image Robert Herron

RAZZ 30

The Makings of a Monster I slump on a bench in an oversized trench coat against a forgotten man’s memorial plaque, and watch boys’ feet kick and pummel a pumped up ball. Legs lope across the grass; studs puncture the soft mud. Small kids clutch onto swings kick their legs and squeal. Feet dangle from the sky. My nails leave curved lines in my palms. My teeth grind and ache. Snatch a balloon and let it fly or stab it to make a bang. I stand up. My boots sink into the soft grass. Kelly Robinson

Mutinous Tumult Like roaring waves crashing down To beat and pound against the rocks. Rushing through at deafening pace, Resonating a ringing race. Every slight sound amplified, It throbs through my head and body. My breath’s enough to catch his ear, He turns his head, he knows I’m near. Mutiny and blood betrayal Thwarts and throws me to the dogs. I am paralysed: to move is to die, I will cease to live, cease to try. My hair’s prickling in the heavy din As black eyes search for human prey. Amidst the silence of being found, I fear the fate to which I’m bound. Thudding within the cage With empty head and body lame. Involuntary. One breath. One beat. His ear pricks, then black eyes meet.

Katy McIntosh

poetry image Alex Crichton

RAZZ 31

Mischief Within a week of the accident we were clambering through the burnt-out rooms. Sucking lemon drops on the ash-black sofa. The kitchen we avoided – its shattered windows like the yellow spots on a lizard’s underbelly. The old woman’s voice billowing from where the oven should have been. We could hang from the curtains in the first floor office. Look out on the barns, their seed piles clogging the machinery in shadow. It was a farm house so we paid little notice to the mounted antlers, the empty kennel, the polished shotgun by the basement door. Greg Hoare

Creation myth Out of static The still life sticks itself Like the roots of hairs on a balloon To a black box with a ceiling, a floor, Four walls with no door. A cup of soil for the something out of nothing, One white glove for conjuring tricks, One light bulb for life, quickened When no one is peeping.

this is good Out of mischief The misled black box, opened once Against its will, administers middle fingers, The ones on the outside making a ring, Chubby thumb inserted in. Raspberries and full moons Glowing over unfastened belts, Groping and belching out into the world Like rude comets.

this is not good soon we will be very very scared Emily Pickthall

RAZZ 32

did you hear about the flying pigs? razz picks it’s favourite april fools day pranks...

the high chair for dogs April fools 2011 ikea announced an ‘aesthetically pleasing’ high chair for dogs – we think they’re barking... the left handed burger 1998 April fools saw Burger King release an full page ad in USA today for its ‘left handed whopper’ with all condiments rotated 180º for convenience. the flying penguins In 2008 the BBC released footage of penguins…flying! In a supposed migration to catch some tropical sun the penguins apparently took to the skies. big ben goes digital

Another work of genius from the BBC – in 1980 they announced how Big Ben would be given a digital display to keep up with the times!

guinness mean time

In another time-related joke Guinness in 1998 claimed they had reached an agreement with the Greenwich observatory to

be its official sponsor for the millennium celebrations. So Greenwich mean time would become Guinness mean time! zebra crossing on the M3 In 2000 an unknown joker painted a zebra crossing across a motorway in Hampshire.

spaghetti trees In 1957 panorama hosted a show demonstrating how the swiss harvest spaghetti from trees, apparently hundreds of people wrote in asking how to grow their own spaghetti trees!

virgin buys Pluto This year Richard Branson announced he was buying Pluto to pave a new way for space travel.

words Jess Weeks RAZZ 33

Fantasy World Fancy Dress

razz recommends

If you’re passionate about short fiction then submit to Riptide –

Exeter’s creative writing journal featuring

Fantasy World 118-119 Fore Street

01392 495559 www.fantasyworldexeter.co.uk

We got our wonderful monster costumes from

FANTASY WORLD on fore street. It has the biggest range of

costumes we’ve ever seen! A must visit

Fantasy World

118-119 Fore Street 01392 495559

www.fantasyworldexeter.co.uk

Riptide Creative Writing Journal

!

many thanks to all our contributors…

Razz My Berries is a society affiliated with the University of Exeter’s Student Guild

If for some reason you don’t treasure your copy of razz forever… please recycle it

Tom Clark, Robert Herron, Alex Appleby, Lucy Dale, Sarah Grieve,

Cyan Turan, Jess Weeks, Kate Hird, Ellena Deeley, Jess Price, Antonia

Hawken, Sophie Jukes, Hannah Franklin, Ellie Walker-Arnott, Mark

Gibbs, Hannah Fortune, Nina Fairfowl, Charlotte Black, Nathan Lawes,

Anna Holden, Alexis Mastoylannis, Charlotte Mason, Anna Riley, Pat

Perry, Imogen Buller, Jenna Payne, Rebecca Lodder, Megan Drewett,

Greg Hoare, Kelly Robinson, Katy McIntosh, Alex Crichton, Emily

Pickthall, Fantasy World, and a special thanks to Book-Cycle