#oxbridge

Gold signet rings. The Harvard Final Club. A breeding ground to join the global hub. They swap out brains for pedigree and crest, And kill the urge to dynamically test. Porcellian doors. The Oxbridge high-table line. Where privilege is stamped in vintage wine. No fiery clash. No intellectual sparks. Just legacy elites who buy their marks.

The river punts. The manicured green lawn. Where hollow, smooth prime ministers are born. A curated, expensive, bloodless view, That filters out the messy, loud, and true. They weaponise the comma and the tone, To build a moat around a corporate throne. A subtle nod. A handshake and a wink. A system built to make sure you don't think.

The Bullingdon commands the Oxford night, In mustard waistcoats, tails of blue and white. Young Boris smashes glasses, walls, and doors, Then flees like a coward from the bistro floors. He hides in hedges from the flashing blue, While checkbooks buy a clean, forgotten view. They break the law, then pay the damage fee, A textbook lesson in elite decree.

Across the sea, the Ivy secrets brew, Where Skull and Bones selects a chosen few. Deep inside the Tomb, the dark elite, Arrange the world before they even meet. They lock the doors, they pass the golden key, To run the state and corporate dynasty. No room for thoughts that challenge or conflict, Just inner circles where the rules are fixed.

On Thames water, the parochial race, Where local privilege demands its place. Two static clubs, a narrow, dull affair, Broadly hyped by the BBC's coddling air. The cameras fawn on every silver spoon, And pipe the nepotism through the afternoon. A tribal dance packaged as world-class sport, While actual progress is dismissed in court. The state broadcaster bows and serves the queue, To keep the old establishment in view.

They teach the art of corporate double-speak, To crush the strong and suffocated the meek. A masterclass in modern public relations, To smooth the theft and plunder of the nations. You learn to launch a devastating drone, In quiet, calm, well-educated tone. The boardroom parasites, the hedge-fund vultures, All certified by world-renowned high cultures.

They auction off the titles and the chairs, To tech-billionaires and corporate heirs. The lecture halls are branded by the banks, While ethics departments tumble down the ranks. A rubber stamp for oligarchs and thieves, Wrapped neatly in the autumn ivy leaves. They do not seek to analyze the plight, They teach the rich to weaponise the white-tie night.

When Shelley brought an independent spark, And dared to write and question in the dark, They kicked him out of Oxford’s holy gate. A pamphlet doomed his academic fate. For godless thoughts are vulgar and unfit, They want compliance, not a searching wit.

And Fitzgerald refused the social climb, He left the Ivy track to save his time. While Syracuse tried hard to break the soul Of young Lou Reed, who loathed their dull control. They threatened him for playing rock and roll, And refusing to march the standard patrol.

We watch the Dead Poets upon the screen, And weep for what the classroom might have been. But standing on a desk to shout a rhyme Is treated like a brief, cosmetic crime. The rogue instructor quickly gets the sack. The rich boys put their tailored blazers back.

Behold the polished statesmen of the land, Who rule the state with an unfeeling hand. With perfect posture and with vacant eyes, They deal in smooth, impeccably bred lies. The finest training money ever bought: A masterclass in manners, not in thought.

They bow politely as they burn the town, And sip their tea while watching empires drown.

Hi!!! Not a weird question at all. The way I see it is that there will be kind people and arrogant people in every social circle or walk of life, cambridge is no different. While I have met some people studying English who are a bit pretentious (vast majority of them are well meaning, just a little out of touch, only a few genuinely nasty people who are easy to avoid), there are plenty of gems. I enjoy the company of everyone in my college cohort, and would say I'm good friends with one or two. Cambridge is a wonderful place for the creative arts, my main advice is to just project confidence. You've got the offer, you're no better or worse than anyone else here, so even if it feels so awkward and awful (if you're anything like me, it will at first) try your best to act like you're entitled to a seaft a seat at the table because you are!!

There are so many creative societies and the vast majority are really open and friendly to newcomers. Honestly anyone running that kind of soc is just excited that people are interested and showing up. My favourite part of cambridge creative life has to be theatre though. Sadly it can be fairly bad for clashing egos, but I've met some of the most talented, genuine people through it. To be completely honest, I'm yet to meet a group of people that I'm fully on the same page as, but that's mainly because of my own struggles with socialising and energy levels, but I am starting to make connections that I think are heading in that direction!!

The workload for English isn't too bad. It takes some getting used to but when you get into the swing of things, it'll be okay. In first year, you usually have one supervision a week where you have to prepare some work in advance (most weeks it's one 1.5-2k word count essay on a specific text(s), but once in a blue moon you can be asked to prepare a presentation, or attend a more casual seminar style class). You will also likely have additional practical criticism supervisions which usually don't require prep (though you might get set one essay a term). Routine is important, and it takes some getting used to but every college will have a pastoral team to help if you're struggling (mine helped me SO MUCH) and your director of studies will be able to give you more specific study tips. The hardest part is asking for help (which the vast majority of people will have to do at some point, there is no shame in it at all). You also may have people from other subjects calling English 'easy'. Those people are all miserable and just jealous that you had the courage and talent to study something you're genuinely passionate about. Ignore them. And English is such a degree of passions (the course is designed around finding specialties you'll write dissertations on in second and third year) that being competitive or comparative is usually pretty redundant. Some people may be like that, but they'll soon grow out of it (and even then, they're usually in the vast minority, everyone's just here for the love of the game honestly).

If this isn't too forward, feel free to message me and we could set up getting coffee in Michaelmas term if you want to chat ab more specific things (absolutely no pressure tho, everyone has different boundaries w internet stranger danger things!!!)