Latest Articles by Sarah Canice Funke
Last night, I experienced the best Hall ever, having conversed with the founding members of the JaffaCake Club (a complete satire on clubs in general, sociology, and political theory), the ringleader of which entity had a sense of humor so dry that Dr Morton looks sentimental by comparison. Hilarious, and just up my alley...
More on the JaffaCake* Club...with commentary
The club objectives: to promote a greater tolerance and diversity in the student body through the awareness of the virtues of JaffaCakes. The humor in this is derived from the juxtaposition of serious intent with ludicrous subject matter...i.e., the content is abnormal for the form. In other words, one is being earnest about frivolous matters. The result is biting satire, absurdity, or just plain silliness, a combination as amusing as the initial juxtaposition.
The club members: 4) A token member whose function is to be picked on without contributing any real governing opinions. No voting privileges within in the club. 3) An administrative, pratical type, whose function is to actually get things done. 2) A dissenting member whose function is to protest the propoganda of JaffaCakes, while repeatedly being over-ruled by the 2/3 majority vote that governs all JaffaCake Club affairs. Witty and funny, but definitely a follower. 1) The Brain behind the entire operation. Subtle, dry, and able to crush all dissension with rapier-sharp wit. All remarks made with superb control of facial expression: all satire comes from this Person. The fact that each member of the JaffaCake Club can be stereotyped into the "necessary" components for a typcial club is either sheer genius or random coincidence. Either way, the club's ability for satire and humor is greatly enhanced.
The club procedures: highly democratic, according to the whims of the Brain. Usually backed by the Administrator and protested by the Dissenter (who hates JaffaCakes). Dedicated to the ideals of capitalism as the system which produced such icons of civilization as JaffaCakes. All other workings of the club proceed as ironic commentaries on the issues that arise from merely living and breathing (or in our case, dining in Hall).A jab at democracy and political and economic theories in general, though genuinely appreciative of capitalism and democracy at heart.
Club actions: the Brain desired that the Dissenter pass the water pitcher. However, the Dissenter was seated at the next table over [we were seperated by "the line" or the crack between two adjacent tables. All food dishes, water pitchers, etc. were supposed to be shared by the 8 diners seated at each table. Crossing the line (sharing between tables) is taboo, and the Dissenter let the Brain know this in no uncertain terms]. I suggest a treaty. "What do you have that I could want?" inquired the Dissenter. "We'll sign a treaty of non-aggression," I countered. "Ah, so you'll promise not to steal my water if I give you some of mine?" queried the Dissenter. "Worked for Hitler," remarked the Brain. The Adminstrator saved the situation by passing our table's water pitcher down, thereby slaking any thirst for territorial expansion.
Moments later, the Dissenter ended up with some of our potatoes in an ironic twist of justice...despite the fact that we had more potatoes than anyone could possibly eat, our table felt deeply injured.
Other tidbits, regarding JaffaCakes or suits (an ancillary concern of the Club, mostly promoted by the Dissenter as a diversifying element).
The Adminstrator mentioned that she and her roommate had had nearly 100 JaffaCakes in her room last night. "Interesting that you used the past tense to refer to your collection," observed the Brain.
Upon noticing a photographer from a local newspaper filming the Fellows as they sat at High Table: "Egad! I'm not wearing my suit!" --the Brain.
"I don't like the fact that you haven't worn a suit since you started the JaffaCake Club. You look classy in suits, Arthur [the Brain]," --the Dissenter.
"The first sign of a cult is that you drop all your normal activities," I warned.
"With the advent of the Socialist Revolution, people like Arthur will go to the wall. Hopefully in their suits. At least you could die with class, Arthur,"--the Dissenter.
Having entered Hall with a spare package of JaffaCakes, the Brain magnaminously shared his spoils with those at our table. Noting that such was my first encounter with this unique entity, the Brain replied that the Club tried to spread civilization wherever it went. I promised, upon my return to the States, to petition George Bush to import JaffaCakes, prompting the Adminstrator to exclaim, "Good. He might as well do something useful." No commentary necessary.
*JaffaCakes are the UK equivalent of Twinkies or Ho-Hos...overprocessed cake-like desserts filled with a sticky jam-like substance called jaffa.
As my closest friends know, I have long been an advocate of the JaffaCake and have petitioned Bush upon every meeting with him to bring this lovely little "artifact of civilization" over the waters to our homeland. Hasn't worked yet. Good luck.
Posted by: linnea at 9.06.05 19:30WTF? I wish I understood what the hell all this is about?
-Ben
Posted by: Ben Rose at 29.06.05 11:40