Linacre Lines | Hilary Term 2026

Hilary 2026

contents Note from the Editor Adventures in Real Estate Should I Go Analogue?

Book Chat A Letter to my Side Lover... Sadly We Cannot Be Together Winter Woes Student Success Puzzles

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Note Editor

from the

Hi! If we haven’t met, my name is Ellen, and I’m the editor of this little magazine, among other things. When I joined Linacre last October I felt so welcomed by the community here and I wanted a chance to both give back to that community, and to leave my mark on it. I have found my way of doing that through getting this magazine up and running again.

This issue has been a serious learning curve. Having never put together a magazine before, I was at a bit of a loss for where to start. Thank you to my wonderful contributors Carly, Cynthia, Louis and Sandra for letting me share their work in this issue! Without them, I might never have started at all. I also need to thank my best friend Fee, for helping me write my own piece, and for being the person who pushed me to nominate myself for this job. This issue is as much theirs as it is mine.

I also want to give my thanks to the Linacre community for inspiring me to try something new, and for voting for me to be editor in chief. I am also deeply grateful to all the Linacre bartenders for serving me the cheap drinks that have gotten me through this term.

And the last thank you goes to you! Thank you so much for picking this up and reading it, I hope you enjoy!

Love, Ellen <3

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dventures in Real Estate

First, I must start by saying that since I was a child, I’ve had a fear of children. At least that’s what seems true to me, as I can’t remember much of anything except for one poignant episode. 1986, I received an acceptance letter from a prestigious summer camp. I was elated at the chance to dazzle all the other children with an impressive feat. On the long journey to the camp (I presume some parent figure was driving me), I tried and tried again to visualise how I was going to win everyone’s favour, but I could only picture the applause produced by such an act. The wheels of whatever vehicle I was in stopped on the gravel drive outside a log cabin that said “Camp…” something or other, this memory plays such a burden on me that I cannot recollect such things.

Anywho, as I stepped out of the vehicle and into the mess hall (first event of the day, lunch 0730), I was no closer to curating an act. The lunch line was filled with children who I was too busy having cheer for me in my mind to pay any attention to. In my haze of imagination, a churlish one leaned in and asked, “Hey, do you know if there’s a party tonight?”

Before I could find an answer, the whole mess launched into laughter, the reverberations of which shook the memory out of focus and my current situation into clarity.

It was a day much like any other. The pigeons emitted a knocking sound, and the door emitted a warbling sound. Or was it the other way around? I opened the door after fifteen minutes of deliberation on this issue to find a winded paper man. He had all the hallmarks of a paperboy except he was fifty-eight years old and worse spoken than the average boy.

“Segn her, thes is the adult issoo. Don’ kip muh wetting so lawng next time.”

It certainly was the adult issue. War, famine, recessions, Dilbert. My stomach was in knots.

“Isn’t it a pity?” I said, bringing myself to tears.

Hullo-ullo, the help-me-please section in the paper intrigued me. 849 Jeorgia Way for Sublet, Help Needed to Sublet to a Sucker, Pays 3 Bowls of Rice. I had just finished my last bowl of rice while reading the Hägar the Horrible in today’s paper, all I had penned in for the day, and it was only 10:40 in the morning, so I thought I might as well answer the call.

What I didn’t, but what you see, is that underneath the title of this help-me-please was the portrait of a child. I didn’t see this, but he wore a freshly pressed blazer, boy shorts, and a troublesome grin.

“Ah, 849 Jeorgia Way”, I said to myself in a clear narrative voice, “Hopefully this showing all goes to plan, I suppose I’ll just warble on the door.” I didn’t even get the chance to warble before it opened, revealing a child. A cold chill ran down my back.

“Rumbuh”, he said.

“Rumbu-?”

“Rumbya glad there’s no mirror around to see that?” he clicked his tongue and pointed up and down my slovenly figure. I felt faint, but there was no way out. It was a rice bowl provider economy. I thought I might as well grovel.

“Hello mister, I am responding to your help-me-pl-.”

“My name is P.S. Hastings. This is my townhouse. I would like you to sublet it.” Master Hastings waited for me to respond.

“That sou-.”

“There’s just one catch: I don’t want these prospective leeches to touch my stuff. They may have one corner, that’s all.” “…” “…”

“Okay, but I need to see muh bowls o’ rice.”

“Ah-ah-ah, half now, half once you’ve leased the corner.”

He never provided the promised one and a half. Some days passed after our first meeting, and I still couldn’t force anyone to lease the apartment. I needed to get the message out more effectively, so I went to the regional side-of-bus-advertising agency and asked if anyone who worked there needed someplace warm to stay. They sent me packing on one of their buses, saying, “Don’t come here no more to the regional side-of-bus-advertising agency.”

Thankfully, their bus stopped at a very popular radio station. I loitered around there for a few hours with a hangdog expression until they slotted me in for an interview. I really hoped either DJ Cold or DJ Cold & Hungry wanted a place to stay. They didn’t, but a handful of the 65 million listeners who tuned in to my tell-all interview did.

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“Ah, 849 Jeorgia Way,” they said. I saw a young couple at the entrance to the house, one seemed a natural-born leader, the other, a follower. I thought it was time to pounce.

Several days of no rice gave me a ‘kill-or-be-killed’ attitude, or at least a ‘lease-or-be-given-no-rice’ attitude.

I couldn’t tell who said this. The young master and the dominant one had identical voices. I had to be very careful lest the situation blow up in my face.

“Ask the other one”, I deflected masterfully.

“Who?” the same voice responded.

There had to be some sort of riddle or other logical trap to “So you’ve come for the corner?” I frothed in their get out of this, as I couldn’t simply open my eyes. “Who, direction. out of everyone in this room, would you like most to “The corner?” The dominant one said, “You explicitly said marry?” that there would be at least half a room at this place. You “For real?” also said that it was totally chill if we ‘touched our “For real.” roommate’s stuff and whatnot.'”

“You notarised?”

“Did you hear corner? I said -cumber. Real estate “Yes.” shorthand, as in cool-as-a-cue-. It’s actually pretty sweet I could hear paper being drawn out of a pocket. digs.” My yellow eyes lanced the couple from their sallow “Babe, ever since we first met, life has been so completely sockets. I could practically taste the plain rice. I just hoped dope. It’s the little things. I love the way your whole body the young master didn’t come home before I could seal the blushes a terrible red after we spend a weekend at the deal. beach. Your kisses are practically rife with tenderness.

“Ok, but this place better be good, we deserve it,” the How did I get so lucky? Was it the rubbing stone that leader of the couple said as they pounded through with their strange man in the Old Quarter sold me? Anyways, can aggressive boots. The subordinate didn’t say anything and you be my forever till the end type of thang?” meekly ran through the entrance.

Something like a ‘yes’ subordinate-ly murmured in the room. I really hoped I wasn’t marrying off the boy. The I adjusted my rented realtor tux, “Welcome! This is the International Online Ministries would surely revoke my foyer, got a nice quality of light here. No! No! Please don’t licence. step on the throw rug! It’s got a chic town motif for kids, and the young master wouldn’t like any aggressive boot The organ chimed, rice was thrown, love’s golden warmth stains on it.” gently brushed my leg. The deed had been done. I waited “I (finger poke) thought (finger poke) you (nothing) said a few more hours before opening my eyes, but when I did, what’s his is ours,” the dominant one sneered.

I was face-to-face with P.S. Hastings. Tears were falling down his face, and he was speaking to a figure on my left My stomach knotted over the difficult situ. “Yes, yes… I that I couldn’t see, “My life (sniffle), I now see I’ve think that is totally ‘hip’ the way you're thumbing through wasted my years. Spirit! Make this apparition go away!” his young reader’s edition of Portnoy’s Complaint, The young master slowly disappeared, and I was left especially after you licked those fingers partially clean from alone in the room. that Go-Gurt you helped yourself to.” My plan was working. I could tell through subtle body language signs Well, that’s me done. I was lost in a jungle of my own that the dominant one was close to signing. Eyes dilated, isolation, with metaphorical monkeys swinging about, mouth drooling, and Go-Gurt-encrusted hands shaking me mocking me. “You wretched soul, you haven’t developed violently to and fro, accompanied by various commanderly since childhood”, they were howling. My three best dress downs about making me draft a good deal. All the friends left just as soon as they came into my life, and I signs. Now to close, “If you would just sign your initials hadn’t even got any riceout of them. As I was leaving the here and here on this Etch A Sketch, what’s his is yours. house, I noticed a head exactly like Master Hastings’, yet Just make sure no one shakes it afterwards.” five decades older, poking out the second-story window.

“You there, what day is it?” the onlooker said.

The door flew open, and a voice thundered, “What’s ‘his’ is “Why, it’s St. Riceman’s Day, Sir”, I responded in a mine, and by ‘his’ I mean me”. The young master rolled cockney accent. through the door on his recumbent bike in his horseplay “Well then, there’s still time! Quick, go down to the attire.I shut my eyes from fright. “You there, what’s going nearest slop shop and buy the biggest bowl of 3 on?” rice they have!”

“The biggest sir?”

“The biggest, now post haste! And once you have it, bring it back here, and we’ll have the whole village over. We’ll play guess games like ‘Yes or No’ and ‘What am I Thinking?’ till the early hours!” The stranger showered me with a painful barrage of 10 pence coins.

I ambled as fast as I could to the nearest rice shop. The shoppie was helpful enough and gave commendable service. However, once I had the bowl of rice, I was faced with a conundrum. I really wanted the whole bowl. So, I did what any reasonable person would do and blew off my social obligations. I instead meandered to the riverfront. As I sat on the banks, all the pains of my confusing existence that normally whizzed through my body calmed into a comforting bulbous mass down the top of my spine. The stream emitted pleasantly vicious sounds, and the setting sun filtered a tranquil presence through the matrix of riverside branches, but the shadows were no less pleasing.

Warm air gently blew beneath my shirt every so often, and the cicadas gave a constant hum. On the other bank, there was a row of telephone poles blanketed in kudzu. As the streaks of sunset blended into the milky grey of summer’s dusk, this cascade of vines silhouetted into a range of peaks. I gazed at these outlines until they blended into the night sky before attempting my first bite of rice. When I raised the first scoopful to my quivering lips, I heard a ruffle behind me.

A gaggle of youths were passing. They stopped when they saw me and whispered amongst themselves before one turned and said, “Hey, you know if there’s a party tonight?” They burst into laughter and continued their night. I could tell from further cackles in the distance that they periodically referenced the moment that had just happened. The mosaic of the calm riverfront ruptured and rearranged itself into a confused mass.

My stomach tightened into its final knot. My brain got really hot.

Louis Prendergast

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Ellen Parker & Fee Robinson Should I Go Analogue?

Those of you who are extremely/chronically/terminally online, Wikipedia (also online) uses all three terms, may have seen calls for you to ‘go analogue’: Delete social media. Buy an MP3 player. Maybe even ditch the iphone and buy a dumb phone, ideally a flip phone, for analogue aesthetic purposes. It's undoubtedly an attractive idea; with platforms running algorithms designed to suck your time more than provide entertainment, tools to simply minimise the time you spend on them seem an increasingly feeble way to fight back. Might going cold turkey, going analogue, be the only way to win back your time and attention? I, for one, am sure I could get a lot more work done if I wasn’t pulled to finish the New York Times spelling bee every morning. But as someone who grew up online, I don’t want to lose the connection social media provides to my generation and to my friends that my smartphone and social media provide. The ease of keeping up with old friends through their Instagram feeds, the convenience of notifications and a full QWERTY keyboard to reply every time my mum texts me. Is throwing away my phone and embracing the analogue lifestyle really practical, or necessary?

Many would say yes. The subreddit r/digital minimalism has almost 150 thousand weekly visitors, all sick, as I am, of the modern digital landscape, and looking to others for advice and validation on their decision to reduce or outright quit their screen use. I have even come across a user aiming to quit music altogether, an extreme which, as a fan of experiencing joy in my life, I do not plan to go to. But besides that, and the obvious irony of all of this taking place on one of the largest online forums, there is something inspiring about scrolling through users’ analogue setups, in their willingness to not just increase the inconvenience of life, but to embrace and find meaning in that inconvenience.

I know that part of this is simple nostalgia. Life in the 90s and 2000s, when the internet was confined to the computer room at home, was certainly far from serene, and I’m sure in twenty years time we will yearn for the early years of

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AI. Whether the news is in your pocket, on the TV or being jumbled up and fed to you via Google’s AI overview, the world is overwhelming. As much as we might try, we are fundamentally incapable of giving equal amounts of care and attention to every newsworthy event in the world, smartphones or not. I do wonder if what the early days of the internet had which we don’t, other than the stress of checking your friends’ Myspace top eight, was the ability to step away. To physically leave the space where you could access and read about every horrible thing in the world, and every person and corporation who wanted your attention, and go and touch grass, which crucially, was not just outside, but was where the internet was not.

But is it really practical for a student in 2026 to leave the computer room? As someone who refuses to do their readings unless they’re available on line, the answer is decidedly no. I expect the majority of us have the same answer. Whether it's doing your readings online, having access to every song ever made at the tap of a button, or finding a date within a few swipes, we all have our pet conveniences that we can’t imagine willingly giving up in the name of modern enlightenment.

What I am beginning to embrace is the slow pullback from these conveniences. While I am not expecting to give up streaming in the near future, I am embracing carrying around my messy notebook and a deck of cards at all times, in the hopes that they will help to divert me from my screens. As much as it makes me feel a little like the guy who uses the aforementioned flipphone who corners you at a party to tell you he uses a fliphone, specifically the Nokia 3210, and that you really should too, I do appreciate having the option to distance myself.

I asked whether going analogue is really practical, or even necessary. As for practically, the answer is decidedly no. With the integration of the internet into every corner of life, I don’t expect to ever be able to ditch my technology (or revert the pseudo-analogue of the flip phone). But is it necessary? With the encroaching of tech corporations and social media into our lives and brains, perhaps it is.

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cH B O O K AT

With the many demands of Oxford life, it is no wonder that reading for pleasure often falls pretty low on the list of priorities for many of us. But reading for pleasure has a number of benefits; it helps to reduce stress, improves critical thinking and self esteem, not to mention being one of the only forms of entertainment that isn’t full of ads.

At the beginning of term, the Linacre Library sent out a survey about reading habits, and found that many of us do want to read more in our spare time, but that we often don’t have the time, inspiration or motivation to get started. With this in mind, I have put together a list of my favourite books on the next page, to (hopefully) help fulfil all of your reading needs! The Library has also started running a book club which meets termly to help students meet their reading goals.

Linacre Book Chat is currently reading The Rest of Our Lives by Ben Markovits, the story of Tom Layward, an unsatisfied professor taking a cross country roadtrip to revisit his past.

Book Chat will meet for discussion on Wednesday the 25th of March in the Small Common Room.

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favourites

PENANCE

Eliza Clark

I have never found a better way to describe this book than as ‘fictionalised true crime journalism’. Written in the style of a disgraced journalist trying to claw back his readership, penance explores our obsession with murder and the ethics of how we engage in it. My favourite book of all time!

IDOL Rin Usami BURNING

My top recommendation for books you can finish in a day. Idol, burning follows Akari, a girl obsessed with a pop star, as her mental health and relationships spiral. A strong character study and dissection of fandom culture. [Check content warnings before reading!]

THE TATAMI GALAXY Tomihiko Morimi

THEY CAN’T KILL US UNTIL THEY KILL US

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Hanif Abdurraqib

One for my non fiction readers! Hanif Abdurraqib combines thoughtful sociocultural critique with autobiographical elements to produce a fantastic collection of essays.

Thoughtful, devestating and perfect for people who think too hard about music.

GIDEON THE NINTH Tamsyn Muir

If the idea of lesbian necromancers in space interests you, this is one to pick up. Equal parts funny, action packed and gutwrenching, this book (and it’s sequels!) had me up until the early hours of the morning, desperate to see what would happen next.

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While writing these recommendations, I realised this book is not as short as I thought it was, but this is an easy one to pick up and put down as and when you want to. Explore four timelines, dictated by the protagonist’s freshman club choices, and 5 watch him search for a fulfilling campus life.

ORANGES ARE NOT THE ONLY FRUIT Jeanette

Winterson This book made me cry on a bus.

Winterson’s semiautobiographical novel follows the life and complex self discovery of a girl living under a passionnately religious mother. There is a reason it is still being recommended forty years on.

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ShOr t reads

easyR eaD s SORCERY OF THORNS Margaret Rogerson

A very fun and (mostly) lighthearted young adult fantasty read following Elizabeth, a teen librarian, as she goes on a quest to find the perpetrator of an act of sabotage, and uncovers a long-running conspiracy on the way.

Perfect for new fantasty readers!

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I’M GLAD MY 8 MUM DIED Jennette McCurdy

If all of the hype around this book hasn’t already convinced you to read it, let me try. Jennette McCurdy recounts her experience with fame, from age six to adulthood, with dark humour and transparency. [Huge trigger warning for eating disorders.]

THE HUNGER GAMES Suzanne Collins A staple of my early teen years which holds up increadibly well to this date! There is never a bad time to reread The Hunger Games, or read it for the first time if you somehow missed out on this cultural phenomenon.

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A Letter to my Side Lover sadly we cannot be together Sandra hey

I hope you realize that I’m just an infatuation and not the love of your life That what makes you like me is not what is deep within but my mere appearance That the feeling l give you is a rush of your hormones, and not the beating of your heart That I’m just a trophy to be attained and not a treasure to be kept.

I hope you realize I’m just an infatuation Before you shatter your relationship and close off all real portals of love Before you publish me around your friends and introduce me to your family Before the day of the wedding, For l fear at the altar before the "l dos" when you finally then realize… you will become a runaway groom.

I hope you realize I’m not the love of your life For love itself depicts me For yes you like me but love itself depicts "us" together For yes you say you would die for my kisses and hugs, but you would never catch a grenade for me For there is a thin line between like and love, and I’m afraid l fall just behind the "love " one.

I hope you realize that I’m just an infatuation A mere mist passing by A stone that shines in the sunlight but not a diamond that shines throughout.

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I hope you realize that I’m just your Marilyn Monroe and not Princess Diana Mine is tale of lust and not a love story.

I'm just a stop along the way and not your destination That in your moments of greatest need l dare not cross your mind But in your moments of want, I’m a flashing green light.

I hope you realize that I’m just an infatuation, and not the love of your life....sooner than later Before l shatter your precious heart in pieces.

18.10.2019

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Student

Cynthia Ezinne Ohaeri Makes History as the First Nigerian at the University of Oxford Smith School of Enterprise and the Environment, Awarded Top100 Africa Future Leader

by Cynthia Ezinne Ohaeri

Cynthia Ezinne Ohaeri graduated Valedictorian with a First-Class Honours degree in Physics and Astronomy from the University of Nigeria Nsukka, winning prestigious awards. With over six years of professional experience across global aviation and multinational energy industries, she has held impactful roles spanning petroleum engineering, solar project management, carbon efficiency modelling, and air traffic management.

She is a recipient of the MasterCard Foundation and AfOx Linacre (Norman & Ivy Lloyd) Scholarships, reading for a postgraduate degree in Sustainability, Enterprise and the Environment at the University of Oxford. Cynthia made history as the first Nigerian at the Oxford Smith School of Enterprise and the Environment, and is a member of Linacre College.

In 2025, she was named a Top100 Africa Future Leader, in recognition of her academic excellence and social impact. She is further deepening her leadership and expanding her impact by increasing access to EduTech opportunities for youths from disadvantaged communities through her work in STEM and Climate Sustainability education. For her, lofty dreams have become a reality. Cynthia is the Founder and Societal Impact Director of ‘Nigerian Girl In STEM’, a non-profit foundation championing youth empowerment, access to education and STEM opportunities for girls from underserved communities. She is also Co-Founder and Project Manager at ‘Hello Dreams’, where she leads the development of Edu-Tech AI tools and advances sustainability solutions for corporate and individual clients. She actively champions climate education, speaks on global platforms and volunteers as a researcher. Her publications on curbing gas flaring and decarbonizing aviation using hydrogen explore novel scientific innovations.

Her interdisciplinary research at the University of Oxford combines her passion for policy, climate finance, economics, and environmental innovation, preparing her for long-term impact in global sustainability transitions. Cynthia’s work spans sustainable finance, energy policy, decarbonization, and enterprise innovation, positioning her to influence inclusive and contextsensitive sustainability solutions globally.

A firm believer in the currency of expressed excellence, she is committed to contributing her ingenuity globally through her work at Oxford. By connecting global innovation with local realities, she aims to champion the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals, lead innovation in STEM, promote global energy access and security, and drive sustainable finance and economic development through data, artificial intelligence, and predictive modelling.

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Success

EASIER

HARDER

ACROSS 2. Nine Sided Shape 5. Vampire Horror 2026 Oscars Nominee 7. Linacre's Signature Shot 10. People Who Shouldn't Drink 11. Legal ______ / Bar ______ 12. Linacre's Strongest Women DOWN 1. Unbothered Frenchman 2. A Set of Signs or Symbols 3. Bye Bye Bye Group 4. XXX 6. Rower's Rendezvous 8. Popular Oxford Tavern 9. Popular Craft for Kids in 2016

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something to say?

Submissions should be 3002000 words and include the author’s name and a title Submit to lines@linacre.ox.ac.uk

if you want to say it we want to hear it!