The Lemon Press – Issue 38

Yes, this is The Lemon Press, how may I direct your call?

Editors’ Introduction

Contents

It has only been five weeks since our last issue came out and may have been thrust into your hands by a tired, agonisingly old, student at Freshers’ Fair. Or perhaps you picked up a copy from the unmarked student media bins. In any case, this is the sequel to that rag, and like all other sequels is of a higher quality.

Trapped within these pages are, breathe it in — not too much, the ink is remarkably cheap — the scent of fresh satire. A new generation of writers and contributors to the Great Lemon, bringing their original takes as well as hackneyed opinions on all sorts of matters.

Campus News & Politics Lifestyle Science & Tech Arts Features Sports Poetry & Horoscopes

It has been a surprising five weeks. Much has occurred on campus. Interesting requests by lesser student media publications have stirred up much controversy, and our writers have happily added to the pot before revving up a 150cc satirefuelled engine to give it a good whizz. Freshers have got to know, love, and despise one another, older undergraduates are getting back in the swing of things, and postgraduates are making the most of the free wine and cake in their purgatory before finally being forced into the harsh world outside. As you sit in your bunker, prepping for the second flood armageddon, read through our comprehensive guides to campus politicos, laundry, and the ten types of student.

The Lemon Press Staff

Editors: Henry Dyer and Myles Dunnett

Deputy Editors: Will Rowan and Hal Bowden Sub Editor: Lucy Purkis Charters Print Editor Emeritus: Dr. G. Bramoli (requiescat in pace)

Campus Editors: Alfie Gerzimbke and Charlie Cayzer News & Politics Editors: Michael Peel and Chris Small Lifestyle Editor: Jake Firestone Science & Tech Editor: Thomas Lansdale Arts Editors: Ottaline Wallace and Maia Bates Features Editors: Perkin Amalaraj and Allegra Mullan Sports Editors: Tom Willett and Alex Andrews

In the wider world, journalism has been under a rather more significant threat, the pyroclastic flow that is American politics continues with no sign of letting up, and Brexit is still boring everyone in its glacial pace. At The Lemon Press, we are priviliged to have our writers bring you exclusive stories of general falsehood to help put your mind at rest on how terrible everything is.

Illustrators: Lucy Purkis Charters, Holly Palmer, and Oli Maddison

President: Harry Clay Treasurer: Cole Smith Secretary: Marvin Drury

Read through to our lifestyle section, which offers crucial seasonal tips and disturbing culinary opinions. In these five weeks, the weather has changed. In the science section, peruse our detailed explanation of these phenomena, as well as a truly unique take on the Apollo 1 fire.

Featuring in The Lemon Press for a one-off return is Gaming Hell, alongside Rev'd Clay’s latest address and ScuzzFeed.

Thrillingly, this magazine has managed to generate an entire page of sports coverage, helping you to exchange small talk in the pub or perhaps find a new interest. Turn over to see what the stars have in store for you, and then read the poetry of potential future Poet Laureates.

Before signing off, the editors would like to encourage readers in this cold period to ‘Send Foods’. The winter hits foodbanks particularly hard and donations are always welcome: see york.foodbank.org.uk for more.

Henry Dyer and Myles Dunnett

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night!

pp 3‐13 pp 14‐17 pp 18‐19 pp 19‐22 pp 23‐24 pp 25‐27 pp 28 pp 29‐30

Vice-President: Lucy Finnighan Social Secretary: Nick Meadowcroft-Lunn

Ordinary Members: Giles Beattie

Contributors: Ashvini Rae, Brighouse, Weatherby, James Fawthrop, Tom Davies, Jack Harvey, Gregory Waddell, and Thomas Crawford

Contact the editors at: thelemonpresseditor@gmail.com Contact the society at: lemonpress@yusu.org Please note: This is a satirical magazine. Quotations and facts likely to be inaccurate. Produced 1st November 2018.

YUSU have requested we include the following: The Lemon Press recognises the severity of the recent issue of the backpage of York Vision which outlined ‘Send Nudes’. The written form of satire does not intend to trivialise the matter. We believe that satire is a form of commentary on this issue. We would never encourage people to send The Lemon Press any ‘nudes’.

Contents

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York Vision: York's Most Removed Student Newspaper™

Neutral Citation Number: [2018] ISSUE266 (Admin)

Case No.: YV/266/2018

IN THE YUSU HIGH COURT OF JUSTICE PRESIDENT’S BENCH DIVISION DIVISIONAL COURT

YUSU Courts of Justice James, York, YO10 5DD

Monday 22 October 2018

Before:

THE PRESIDENT OF THE YUSU HIGH COURT (THE RT HON LORD JAMES DURCAN OF HESLINGTON) and THE HON MR JUSTICE FINN JUDGE

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Between:

Appellant

University of York Students’ Union

­ and ­

Respondent

York Vision

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

The Entire Student Body QC (instructed by YuSue) for the Appellant

Mr Michael Hugo Slan­Der QC and Ms Tianshi Li Bel QC (instructed by York Vision Ltd.) for the Respondent

Hearing date: 22 and 23 October 2018

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Judgement Approved by the court

for handing down 3

Campus

Let's get down to business.

wanted: sbu editures. urgont!

The President of the YUSU High Court, Lord James Durcan of Heslington:

YUSU v York Vision

Introduction

1. On Friday 19 October 2018 York Vision published a highly problematic edition: aside from numerous breaches of the media charter, instances of poor journalistic standards, and sub­par editing, the edition featured the words ‘Send Nudes’ on the back cover, with an offer to rate people’s nudes in a future edition. An investigation was subsequently launched.

Resignation of Duties

2. I, Lord James Durcan of Heslington, being of unsound mind and body, and having no firm opinions on this, or any other matter, hereby relinquish my role to the sound jurisprudence of Mr Justice Finn Judge.

Mr Justice Finn Judge:

Introduction

3. Cool, so: hello mates, it’s me. I’ve got a lot of experience with student media, and as an editor, and as a sabb, and as a judge, and also as an editor, so I’m perfectly placed to make the judgement in this case. I have not, however, ever taken a nude, though I do of course know everything about the issue at hand, as you might expect. Speaking of issues, did you get a chance to check out the issues of Nouse that my fantastic team edited?

4. So Vision bungled this one pretty badly, yeah, but I do want to point out that Nouse had absolutely nothing to do with this. I also wasn't asked if they could do this, which is kind of insulting, given that I'm the Activities Officer. I don't just focus my talents on RAG and volunteering though: I'm really keen to ensure that York's great student media get the credit that they deserve – especially Nouse.

The Law

5. When it comes to this sort of thing, we've got to be sensible. I know a lot about the law, and I once met a lawyer, so I’m very well placed to sort this issue out. I’ve heard everyone bang on about the risks that the ‘Send Nudes’ thing posed: revenge porn, underage material, blackmail, data protection, all sorts. And whilst I agree that these are all serious implications, what people are forgetting is that the most serious implication is that it might have made Nouse look bad, and we just can’t have that.

6. When I became a judge, I knew that the innate sense of right and wrong that I learned as Nouse journalist would guide me in sound decision­making, and imbue my grandiloquent monologues with legitimacy of York's finest publication.

The Judgement of the High Court

7. Righty then, time for the judgement: taking into account the evidence presented by both the counsels for the Appellant and the counsels for the Respondent, I hereby disregard all of that nonsense, and rule in favour of YUSU. I sentence York Vision to be withdrawn from campus, and for the entirety of what remains of Vision to be fed into the Finn Judge patented woodchipper. York Vision will, however, be given a great deal of cash so that they might become as good as Nouse was under my editorship. YUSU will pay costs, and probably pass the buck on all this bothersome business. Did I just say that? What I meant to say was: proper procedures will be followed, naturally.

Conclusion

8. Right, off to Courtyard for some of their delicious nachos — who’s coming with me? Has anyone seen my leather jacket anywhere? Thanks guys, you’re the best. Well, second best, because you’re not me.

Myles Dunnett

We're not far off 2000 likes.

Campus

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Rejected Film Pitches: 101 Damnations

York Vision Editors Extract the Positive from Various Reviews of Their Latest Edition Following some slightly negative reviews of their latest edition, the York Vision team has been working hard to extract the positive from the various reviews that have rolled in. Though the editors insist the quotations are an accurate representation of the original sentiments, citing their support of high-quality journalism as evidence, some suspect that some of the quotations may have been lightly edited. Judge for yourselves: ‘The YUSU sabbatical team... and... York Vision... is... in keeping with the journalistic standards of York student media... and commitment to creating an inclusive environment for our students. The request for students to “send nudes”... is completely... appropriate... and we... endorse... Vision. York Vision... practices for the future.’

– Sabb Statement on York Vision’s 19th October Edition ‘I cannot believe that you have completely and utterly... produced... such an... edition.’

– University Management, by email ‘You... brought shame on yourselves... by ever... severely doubting your basic competence. You guys are... not... total shitheads.’

– Anonymous email ‘Don’t... listen to... morons... it was not a... total bloody disaster.’

– Unnamed YUSU Staff Member ‘I really... didn’t... hate the back cover more than anything else on this whole planet of earth.’

– Jim Von Kubric, former Editor of York Vision ‘I loved it.’

– Pol Pot

Send Prudes An outrage against decency has been committed at this, the University of York. I, Oliver William Huntington-Whitehead, am calling upon all those who, like me, are frightfully prudish about this sort of dashed thing. I shan’t bother you unnecessarily by relating to you the nature of the vile act that has been committed, but I can assure you: it was debased, debauched and weally wather waunchy - sorry - really rather raunchy.

I related some of the less immoral particulars of the event to my valet; in response, poor old Cyril turned a devilish shade of green, and fell to the floor in a swoon. Old bean went and died then and there on the spot. I think Cyril’s soul, on learning of an indecency so great, left his body, deciding that it could no longer happily inhabit this earth. So shocked and appalled was my old nanny, on learning of the moral vacuum that could occasion such an outrage, that she vowed never again to look a youth in the eye, and subsequently killed all of the children in her care: the Bentincks were most upset, for they found that their entire brood had been done away with, and what’s worse, they had paid the nanny for the whole month and she had only been in their employ for a week and a half. For my part, I was so appalled by the degenerate circumstances I found myself exposed to that I went quite mad, and lost my mind entirely – I have only just recovered the full use of my wits and faculties, though I fear that some longer period of convalescence will be necessary before I venture to travel back outside again.

I therefore ask all of those who are like me - and those that have the means and time to do so - to come to York, and join me in my fight to restore ethical order and moral values to this institution, and in doing so, reclaim this university, and eventually, this land too, in the name of righteous prudishness, and moral indignation. Long Live the Queen.

As mailed to Myles Cameron Hugo Charles de Barry Cavendish‐Dunnett

Myles Dunnett

Man Opposes Vision Backpage on Grounds They Are Now Receiving More Nudes Than He Is It seems like just about everyone has an opinion on this Vision debacle now, doesn’t it? Well, luckily for you, The Lemon Press is committed to cutting through the swathes of lukewarm takes and bringing you only the most informed opinions on the matter. In this vein, we spoke to Ollie Walker, a 3rd year Social and Political Sciences student and self-proclaimed ‘equalist’ whose main feminist credentials include not only having a mother but also, at one stage, a girlfriend.

‘I just think it’s beyond inappropriate for Vision to solicit nudes through their newspaper,’ he told us. ‘It's like this one girl in my Gender and Political Theory seminar said, porn isn’t inherently anti-feminist. And I stand by this. I am a proud ally of women and I support their fundamental right to send nudes.’

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Campus

‘But do you know what is anti-feminist?’ he continued.

‘Soliciting nudes through the back page of a newspaper. Where’s the effort, Vision? Where’s the commitment? Writing “send nudes” on the back page isn’t just lazy journalism, it’s bad etiquette.

‘Call me old fashioned, but I think it’s wrong to put pressure on girls to send nudes. Real men empower women by sending them nudes first. Or maybe chivalry really is dead... So if Vision wants nudes then they should do what the rest of us do: snap a pic, send it to every girl in your contacts and then sit back and wait patiently for your well-deserved nudes. Remember, you're a nice guy. You've earned this.’

Ash MRA

Please justify our existences by liking our page.

First Man is good but not so sure on the twist ending.

Student Hacks Support Letter Challenging York Vision’s ‘Dangerous Journalism’ An open letter, written and signed by numerous figures within the campus elite (ahem), has condemned the campus newspaper York Vision for its ‘dangerous journalism’.

Penned in response to York Vision’s most recent print edition, which is accused of abandoning all of the principles that student journalists at York hold dear, the letter has proven popular among leading student journalists and top members of prominent student societies, many of whom have enthusiastically given comments to the press.

‘How dare the York Vision team try and let students new to journalism write for a print edition,’ an angry Joseph Satin, Editor of Nouse, told the press. ‘Any good journalist at York knows that only members of your editorial team write for print editions. Ordinary members can’t write for toffee, let alone any old student.’

‘I’m disgusted,’ remarked Oscar RollsRoyce, former Editor of Nouse (for one edition). ‘I’m so annoyed that the York Vision team are all emotionally supporting each other. How dare they?

I’m tempted to write a second letter to them, just to make it clear: journalism in York is about back-stabbing, not backslapping.’

‘York Vision really messed up,’ insisted Izzy ‘Thank-God-She’s-Not-A-NouseEditor-Any’ Moore. ‘They really went a bit over the line. I can’t believe they’d make York’s student media seem so workingcrass. They should have been a bit more serious, reserved, sophisticated, austere; instead they made us all look a bit poor. I dislike the poor, don’t you?’

Asked to describe her initial thoughts on reading York Vision, Moore commented: ‘Fuck.’

The contents of the open letter have been

subject to much discussion across campus. The signatories remain proud of their commitment to its beliefs. ‘I think everyone saw that York Vision’s last edition put the worst of York’s student journalism on show,’ said Chagrin Blowhard, the new high priest at the Jim Fudge Temple of Journalism.

‘As someone who has only just finished his first year of being a student journalist at York, it makes perfect sense to me to sign a letter asking a student newspaper to be shut down by YUSU. It’s not like anyone new to York this year wanted to get involved, anyway.’

‘Read York Vision and you’ll see such negativity, such crassness... you wouldn’t think that student journalism can be a force of positive change, or that it can bring people together and make friendships that last for life. How could Vision’s fuckwits make York’s journalists look so heartless?’ said Magnum Dong, a proud Lemon Press contributor.

‘That’s why we wrote that the Vision team display “journalism of an unbelievably low standard,” and that their “editorial team is incompetent to the highest degree” – to show the rest of campus that, contrary to what you read in York Vision, student media at York is a friendly, supportive, welcoming community.’

Former members of York Vision’s team were also keen to add their condemnation. ‘Can you imagine, darling – can you imagine – someone producing an edition of a printed journal of such poor quality and taste?’ Old Mother Hubbard told reporters from the mouth of her cave. ‘While I simply cannot speak from experience, if I had been responsible for something so awful, darling, I would surely want my own newspaper to be shut down so I’d never be associated with it in future.’

‘I’m so disappointed by York Vision these days,’ said Jonny Long, another ex-Editorin-Chief of the newspaper. ‘I think the alumni ought to support them more. They

We are but humble vassals to the algorithm.

really don’t get much support from the guys who used to be part of the team. Oh, sorry, got to go – Hamzah wants me to look at more of his horseshit.’

Even the independent press, unaffected

by YUSU regulations, joined in the Visionbashing. ‘«After reading their article’s, I think they should be de-ratified,»’ commented Violet Daniels, Editor of The Yorker. ‘„Their writer’s need to learn a few thing’s. For one thing, they need to improve their grammar and spelling skill’s. I could offer them tip’s?‘’ While members of the York Vision team are in hiding, other students are keen to hold their feet to the fire. ‘For such astonishingly poor journalism, they simply have to be de-ratified,’ wrote Jan the Bore in the latest edition of Nouse. ‘I know I wrote a few editions ago that it’s important to have two printed newspapers on campus, and I know that what we could do is offer the Vision team help, support, training, and encouragement rather than make their team members’ lives utter hell, and I know that insisting they be de-ratified not only contradicts my earlier position but also means that independent folks like The Yorker will become the new alternative to Nouse... but York Vision should be de-ratified.’

‘We support the idea of giving students opportunities to try new things, develop their skills and perhaps discover things that they might end up pursuing as careers,’ one individual, keeping his identity hidden with a paper bag over his head, told us from the Sabbatical Office.

‘That’s why we think York Vision should be destroyed – in order to give students those opportunities. The other media, say, perhaps, ooh, I dunno, Nouse would have more chance to offer those opportunities to students.’

If you’re not part of the ‘YUSU bubble’ (© James Durcan 2018), one student’s tartlyput conclusion is an apt summary: ‘this is all the fault of dicks.’

Brighouse

Campus

6

Human flesh doesn't taste as good as everyone says it does.

Were The Floods Pre‐Emptive Divine Retribution for Vision’s Sinful Publication?

Many of you are aware of the two scandals which rocked campus recently. On Tuesday 16th October, in a dramatic turn of events, the University flooded, only for campus’ ‘most awarded student newspaper’ to ask the student body for pictures of, well, their bodies, a few days later.

‘What links these two unexpected and disturbing events?’, I hear you ask. Recent evidence has come to light proving that the floods of last Tuesday were in fact a case of ‘pre-emptive divine retribution’, an uncommon, but not unheard of, occurrence, where God schedules a case of divine punishment a few days earlier than planned. To be fair on Him, there is a lot happening at the moment — you could hardly expect Him to be perfect 24/6.

Indeed, before we even knew what the floods were punishment for, there were already rumours that they had a divine origin. To quote our esteemed editor and fervent churchgoer Henry Dyer (whilst on the critically acclaimed URY radio show ‘The News Cruise’ on 16th October): ‘I believe the floods are a sign from God.’ It is well known that floods are the general heavenly response to events of extreme debauchery, and it therefore follows that last week’s natural disaster was no exception.

We can only hope (and pray) that the editorial team concerned has had their *ahem* VISION cleared by recent events and shall repent like the sinners they are.

Lucy Purkis Charters

YUSU Feedback Form

Dear Student, Please complete this form by selecting the choice (delete as appropriate) that best represents your feelings so we can better understand and appreciate how fantastically we are doing.

1. I am: ecstatic/thrilled/pleased/happy/fully satisfied with YUSU as a students’ union.

2. Freshers was: mind blowing/awesome/amazing/really cool/pretty rad.

3. You are representing my interests: to the tee/to perfection/To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf/to a sufficiently brilliant standard.

4. My favourite sabbatical officer is: all of them/each of them individually/I simply couldn’t pick between their gorgeous faces/all of them.

5. YUSU Senior Management is: infallible/god-like/genius/super smart/solid and capable, experienced and dependable.

6. My overall experience with YUSU has been: awe-inspiring/joyous/stimulating/really grand.

Myles Dunnett 7

Campus

Testimonials from Issue 37 ‘Issue 37 was, frankly, the most debased, debauched, and immoral work of collective insanity that has ever had the misfortune of finding its way across my desk. I cannot stress how offensive, inappropriate, and upsetting I found the content to be over my time at the university. Let The Lemon Press forever stand for a total lack of class and decency. Apart from that, I thought it was pretty good, on the whole.’

– Koen Lamberts, former Vice-Chancellor of York, current ViceLord at the University of Sheffield ‘I really don’t like having opinions. I think that the ideal sabb should have as few opinions as possible. My job is to hear the students’ opinions. I am very keen to hear all the opinions of all the students. Having said that, I have been forced into the uncomfortable position of having a very strong and intense opinion on Issue 37: I slightly... disliked it. Oh gosh. I need a lie down.’

– Unnamed YUSU sabb ‘Myles Dunnett is the handsomest man in comedy.’

– Myles Dunnett ‘My uncle says you got a screw loose.’

[Oh yeah? Your uncle molests collies - Eds.] – Caddyshack, 1980 ‘I loved the part where you slag off YUSU; I was like: “you’re so right”.’

– Another unnamed YUSU staff member ‘Who hurt you?’

– Unattributed Myles Dunnett

Breaking News Exclusive to All Student Media Outlets

Commercial company operating in free market capitalist framework makes decision designed to net them higher profits in line with contract they have with procurement office.

Consumers forced to pay more for the same service at a rate above inflation. YUSU to blame?

Henry Dyer

Student Sound Off Free Yorkshire. We do more than Wales and Scotland and even if it's not practical it's interesting.

Fuck Catalonia.

Harry Clay, Rotherham Oik

Cutting-edge commentary and hot takes...

Where's my Stetson?

YUSU in Trouble After Journalists ask Russians to ‘Send Nukes’

President Refuses to Voice Opinions on Major Policy Issues

Elected officials at the Students’ Union found themselves dealing with potential thermonuclear war last week after international delegates received requests from members of ratified student media to ‘send nukes.’

Attempts to elucidate opinions on major issues from the President have remained unsuccessful, according to a spokesperson from an investigative body.

Hauled from his usual spot under Jim Fudge’s desk, James Durcan has been subjected to a series of increasingly tough questions, first about campus politics, then about the IRA, communism, and women’s rights, in a desperate attempt to extract opinions from the YUSU President.

Following a meeting in Moscow with Vladimir Putin, in which he apologised for the unusual request being made to the Russian military, YUSU President James Durcan maintained a calm demeanour in the face of global outrage.

‘The other Sabbs and I wish to disassociate ourselves from the crass and ridiculous remarks made by some of our Union members,’ the President told journalists gathered outside the Kremlin. ‘In due course, I will be visiting other world leaders in order to apologise for the embarrassing, ill-thought-out ideas of our so-called journalists.’

However, Durcan is yet to offer a concrete opinion on anything, repeatedly telling interrogators that he could only offer them his name, his rank, and his commitment to going out there and listening to students’ views.

Even torture has not broken the President’s commitment to keeping his thoughts to himself. ‘I can’t believe it,’ the chief investigator, Terrence Wenlock, remarked. ‘He’s the most resistant interviewee we’ve ever had. Most people will condemn the Holodomor in a heartbeat, but this guy... he wouldn’t tell us if he thought that students were getting a raw deal from the University even after we broke both his pinky toes.’

Asked if the regime’s reputation for shadowy bureaucratic control, unaccountable officials, and authoritarian restrictions on free speech and free media made him feel uncomfortable, Durcan told the press that he was confident that Putin remained indifferent to what goes on at YUSU. While the YUSU President accompanied Putin to the casino, Twitter users pointed out the potential dangers of a student newspaper being in possession of nuclear weaponry.

Asked whether he could still feel his limbs, Durcan replied, ‘That’s for students to decide.’

The Patriarchy Society

Weatherby

‘Astounding!’ wrote the user @JoeSatin99. ‘Really think the @YorkUnion should host a talk on whether students should have #nukes. Bet it would be a great event featuring a great host – would be a blast, right?’

Thanks to the YUSU love of diversity of thought, the Patriarchy Society is the latest addition to their long list of societies and it is looking for new members!

‘The failing @yorkvision are just begging for views, but their ratings will NEVER RECOVER after such a crazy request! Still, @yorknouse aren’t much better. Did you read their last edition?

Editor’s note sent me to sleep. Whole paper so bad! SO BORING! #GladBentleysOut’ wrote @realDonaldTrump.

Weatherby

Why not join the fight against consent classes in the smoky back rooms where all the real power is? We all know the consent classes' impact on sexual assault is as real as the Patriarchy Society; so, you know you wouldn’t be wasting your time! Plus, it looks great on your CV! (Although, obviously, your gender is more important!)

Pull the other one.

Meetings are at 16:00 every Manday (which is every day) in the Man Building (which is every building) please come along and let’s leave the world in the same state we found it!

Thomas Lansdale

Durcan Shows Tremendous Leadership During YUSU Crisis

Weatherby

Festive Outrage: Societies Ditch T‐Shirts for Pumpkins

Idiotic students across the country are getting into the season by ditching t-shirts and sharpies for pumpkins and carving kits.

Secretly hoping to attract further media coverage, several societies are preparing socials where they will traipse around local bars, carve needlessly offensive slogans into each other's pumpkins, get hideously drunk, and piss into the pumpkins.

Alex Hockey-Tory, a college rugby player and football enthusiast, said: 'We're going to do all that, and then as a charitable act, we'll smash the pumpkins over the heads of the local homeless! Something to eat, even if it is cold piss-drenched pumpkin, hurray, aren't we kind fellows!'

Henry Dyer

... @thelemonpress. Follow us (online)!

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Look what I am doing to this onion bhaji, YUSU. I am eating the onion bhaji. And why? Because I am the one who makes the bhaji go away.

Hes West Two Weeks After the Happening, a Survivor’s Tale

Girl Comes Back from Gap Year, Claims She is Brand New Person

It began with the floods. Those terrible, terrible floods. We lost many good car parks/Vanbrugh freshers that day (I’ll leave it up to you to decide which is more important). With the floods we lost all water, and more importantly, the student bars (because of YUSU’s bar unification campaign we lost them all at the same time). Some even say that all lectures were cancelled, not that I noticed (unless you are one of my lecturers, in which case I definitely noticed that lectures were cancelled). The first weeks were hard, and only the toughest survived.

Gap years are often an integral part of the university experience, and we at The Lemon Press managed to grab an interview with one girl, aged 21, who had recently arrived back at York from a year of travelling the globe, and claimed she ‘had, like, a totally different world view.’

And now we are here. The only accepted form of currency are illicit copies of York Vision. I traded away my last one yesterday for half a fried goose leg. I fear the end is near. And if you, yes you, my dear reader wonder why I have not simply gone to Hes East, you can fuck right off. Well, wat-er shame.

Chris Small

‘York is like, so closed off. If you really want to live, you need to do a Gap Yah. Like, if people want to grow like I have, they need to do this. I don’t get why no one just goes travelling all the time. Doesn’t everyone have like £5000 from their parents to spare?’

We shall be keeping her name anonymous at her request, which doesn’t really make sense as she had been posting about her trip every single day on every social media platform available.

Asbestos Accused of Having Derwent

According to her friends, she has been linking every daily activity to her travels: ‘Oh yeah, she’s definitely a new woman.

She threw out all of our utensils and now only uses bamboo stuff, though we’re not sure that’s exactly what they do in China.

Yesterday she made us a dish that she said had opened up her third eye in India. It was chicken korma.’

Rumours have circulated about the health of Asbestos, who has reportedly been seen with signs of Derwent. The rumours started late on Saturday, when she checked herself into Unity Health, who naturally told her that she would have to wait for four months to see a GP. It was reported that she had a sense of insecure masculinity, as well as an inability to talk to anyone about anything other than her drinking or drug habits. On Wednesday her condition seemed to have worsened, when she was heard chanting ‘if you're not Asbestos, you're a cunt’ in the middle of D-Bar. When she realised that everyone around her felt uncomfortable, and she was simply ‘being a dick’, according to an unnamed friend who is close to Asbestos, she simply groaned and complained about how boring the other carcinogens were. The carcinogen community has had mixed reactions to the news of Asbestos.

We even managed to grab a statement from the girl’s mother, to see if the claims were true: ‘Oh no,’ her mother said, ‘she’s always been a twat.’

Lucy Finnighan

GCHQ Analyst Watching You Not Pay Attention in Seminars

Deep inside the heart of GCHQ, Colin sucks on a Werther's Original and enters the backdoor of one of the millions of webcam feeds. Today, he's watching you. Yes, you. Laptop open, webcam and microphone silently observing. Colin is relieved that it's not another muffled stream of someone in the throes of pleasure.

Some have suggested that she should be sectioned for fear of the disease spreading. Others have been more lenient on her. IC Engine Exhaust Fumes said: ‘It’s not her fault that she caught this horrible, horrible disease. Kindness does so much good to a carcinogen.’

Perkin Amalaraj

22 Acres Renamed to 90,000 Square Metres in Blow for Western ‘Imperialism’ In a win for the pro-metric lobby, 22 Acres has been ‘updated for the 21st century’. Now you can enjoy the playing fields, secure in the knowledge that it isn’t being held back by those imperial luddites which form the metrification opposition.

Will Rowan

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Campus

Colin watches as your eyes flit from the seminar leader to the pretty person opposite, and then to your screen. On a second monitor, Colin watches as you scroll through another BuzzFeed listicle on the Kardashians. When you stop at point 24 of 39, he notes it down. You switch windows to your notes - blank. He watches your eyes - blank. You're no threat, he concludes. You're nothing, really. Just another tired student not paying attention.

He switches to another feed.

You open another window and absentmindedly download a copy of The Anarchist Cookbook, before adding a few more words to your manifesto. 42 minutes later, as North Yorkshire Police carry you away, an email goes out from the University, and Colin is fired.

Henry Dyer

Secure hypertext based satire...

‘Jamie Oliver is a patronising, talentless, hack.’ – Ancient saying

The 10 Types of Student You’ll Meet on Your Course When you first get here, campus can seem like an alien planet - and a scary step up from sixth form or college. Full of unfamiliar faces, new ideas, and strange customs, you might feel like university life is just too weird for you. But don’t panic, The Lemon Press is here to help!

Here’s a comprehensive guide to every type of student you’ll meet on your course.

1. The Nerd The Nerd is that guy who’s always hunched over their laptop screen, no matter what’s going on around them.

Lecture? Check. Dinner time? Double check. At pre-drinks before a night out?

There he is, in the corner of the room, writing a paper on the social status of plumbers in Roman Britain.

2. The Artist You can tell who the artist is immediately, as she rushes into her seminar 10 minutes late, wearing tie-dyed dungarees and a Rupi Kaur T-Shirt, apologising to the tutor. Apparently she slept through her alarm, after staying up all night smearing coffee grounds into a canvas and sketching toads.

3. The Party Animal This one might be harder to spot: the Party Animal will never be in classes before 1PM, and won’t show up at all on a Wednesday. On the bright side, they’re pretty easy to get along with, as whenever they start to annoy you, you can drive them off by brandishing an alcohol-free beer and chanting ‘Flares! Flares! Flares!’.

4. The Egg Layer Everyone meets an Egg Layer at some point in their degree. You can spot this type of student by looking out for someone with a snappy dress sense, great hair, and the large Egg they’re constantly perched atop of. Be sure to never mention The Egg – quite a few Egg Layers are selfconscious about their Eggs, and it’s never a good idea to enrage an Egg Layer.

... thelemonpress.co.uk

P.S. If an Egg Layer suddenly starts speaking ancient Hebrew, get out of there! It’s about to hatch, and unless you want an Egg Curse you’d better scram!

5. Thurgood Marshall You’ll probably spot the late Thurgood Marshall sitting across from you in a lecture every now and then. Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to have him in one of your seminar groups! I’m sure there’s a lot any student could learn from the influential U.S. Supreme Court Justice, so keep an eye out for him to pop up!

6. The Freaky Friday Have you ever noticed the girl sitting next to you keeps humming along to 80s hits, or making dated pop culture references?

Does she seem wise beyond her years and have trouble understanding slang? If so, you’ve probably found yourself a mum body-swapped with her daughter - a Freaky Friday. Don’t bring it up! The Freaky Friday is trying to keep it ‘on the down-low, dude’, as she might say, and more often than not the whole experience will teach her a valuable life lesson about her relationship with her daughter.

7. The Abstract Concept Every now and then you’ll strike up a conversation with some sort of gaseous cloud or extra-dimensional being of pure and radiant light. Perhaps you will experience a sudden tingle of excitement, or a relentless onslaught of dread, or an unstoppable urge to urinate. You’ve met The Abstract Concept! They probably won’t be particularly talkative, seeing as they are non-sentient personifications of human emotions and societal constructs, but you never know. I met Alternative Perspective once, and xe seemed to have a lot of good points I hadn’t considered before. However, they’re not all that insightful. I once tried to talk to the nebulous avatar of Bad Jokes, but xe was full of hot air.

8. Yourself You see him in the corridor between classes from time to time. The first time he doesn’t spot you, but he does the

second. Then he is gone, swept away by the vast tides of the crowd. You turn to look back but he is gone. You remember in the evening, and feel unnerved. A horrible feeling in your chest tells you somehow that he is thinking about you too. You try to brush it off – sure, you tell yourself, he looked similar to me, but that happens – and then you remember. He had the same mole as you, above his lip.

Was he even real? Did you imagine him?

What if… what if you’re not real? You gasp suddenly, and take your shirt off.

You look down at the birthmark on your chest, the one you’ve had for as long as you can remember. From a certain angle, doesn’t it almost look like a barcode? You fall into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

9. The Eldritch Horror You’ll spot this guy straight away. He’s the impossibly large, scaly behemoth that somehow fits in the lecture theatre, who speaks in the tongue of a thousand screams, and whose every breath is thunder. His horns curve for a thousand miles and his tentacles encircle the world.

He is Qu’Orgoth the Primordial, the Unknowable Godhead of our pitiful reality and his million eyes are the blinding light at the end of the tunnel.

And yet, somehow he always turns up 5 minutes late.

10. The Slacker Has he done the reading? No. Will he ask to copy your notes? Yup. Did he listen back to the lecture he missed? Of course not. The Slacker is more bothered about the new Black Ops than he is about actually passing his degree, and anything he writes for class turns out to be an incoherent, rambling mess. Also, he’s a tabloid writer.

Alfie Gerzimbke

Thurgood Marshall

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YUSU Sabbs express first ever opinion... we report on the subsequent tribunal on pg 163!

Revealed: Flood Warning Raised After Senior Uni Bosses Left Heslington Hall and Saw Lake The deployment of the Major Incident Response Team (MIRT) by senior figures at the University of York occurred after one member accidentally escaped Heslington Hall and came across the lake on Hes West, sources have told The Lemon Press.

Members of the University's executive are typically kept in the secure facility of Heslington Hall, where their every want and need are carefully catered to and met.

Steps taken to ensure their safety have been so extreme that in the past, the vice-

chancellor would travel from Heslington Hall to Hes East by limo.

A security breach led to Jo Bangun-HorsBurgh escaping her confinement zone and coming across the lake near Derwent.

Coincidentally, on the other side of Hes West, a large puddle formed in a car park.

Fearing the apocalypse was nigh, she then rushed back and deployed the MIRT - the rights of which have been sold to Disney and a film is coming to the Marvel Cinematic Universe in 2024.

Senior figures at Heslington Hall are understood to still be in a state of panic.

Saul Tendler, Deputy Vice-Chancellor, has ripped the wood panelling from the walls of the manor house in an attempt to build an ark, while John Robinson, Pro-ViceChancellor for teaching, is playing The Doors and popping pills. Emergency supplies of Moet & Chandon have been opened along with the special emergency expenses forms to ensure continuity of government at the highest level of the University.

Henry Dyer

A Diary of Mr James Fawthrop Esq., Fresher, on his Experience of: Laundry I have recently had the misfortune of having to use the laundry system at the University of York. I tried without it, but there are only so many times you can wear the same socks without your feet dropping off. Well, this misfortune of which I speak, I write of whilst waiting for laundry that was supposed to finish not half an hour ago.

Not an hour ago I was merry and chirpy and at one with the world. I watched the lark o’ the wing and sighed a gentle, melancholy, sigh; the world was at peace.

Then I logged onto circuit.co.uk and emerged from my room five minutes later swearing and frothing at the mouth. I saw a line of cars and they were all painted black. The birds’ mocking chuckle became obnoxious and selfish. Darkness seeped through my blood dripping slowly into my heart. The little lady bird I had marvelled at and held tenderly in the cusp of my

hand not five minutes ago was crushed beneath a vengeful thumb. This is Laundry.

Firstly they take you on a god awful website then take you along to PayPal, who promptly ask you for all your personal details, your past loves, and darkest secrets, along with bank details and numbers; they promise to only pass them onto third parties for commercial purposes but you just know you’ll receive a magazine through the post about latex clothing. It’s all quite legal I’m sure, there’s a bit in the fine print about selling your soul to Mephistopheles, but even Faustus got more out of the deal than a clean pair of boxers. It takes about an hour to fill in the details, you make one quite innocent mistake then are taken back to the beginning.

This time you’re rattled and your fingers nervously mistype, so you start again. By

this time a red mist is beginning to descend. This only makes it worse, as you miss out the address box altogether.

Practically in tears you meticulously work your way through. By some miracle, just when you’ve given up on everything and are looking for a piece of paper to jot your will on, it goes through, and you have put £15 on your little bit of plastic.

Anyway, I ambled off to the laundry room only to walk back a minute after for my washing powder. I always seem to do that.

Then I realised how much it cost.

Next week, I will be choosing between a clean shirt or a bite of food on the plate. I suppose to keep up appearances, I shall have to choose the former. I shall pay my laundry card and find a nice quiet ditch, with not too much mud or rubbish, in which to curl up and starve — naked and alone — until my clothes have dried.

James Fawthrop

Great Opening Film Lines ﴾If They Were Set at the University of York﴿ Rebecca (1940, Alfred Hitchcock): Last night, I dreamt I went to Eric Milner A again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron poles leading to the doorway, and for a while I could not enter, for the Vanbrugh porters had not given me keycard access.

Fight Club (1999, David Fincher): People are always asking me if I know James Durcan.

Manhattan (1979, Woody Allen): Chapter One. He adored York. He idolized it all out of proportion. Eh uh, no, make that he, he romanticised it all out of proportion. Better.

Apocalypse Now (1979, Francis Ford Coppola): Alcuin! Shit! I'm still only in Alcuin. Every time I think I'm gonna wake up back in the jungle...

GoodFellas (1990, Martin Scorsese): As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a journalist. To me, being a journalist was better than being President of the Students' Union.

Henry Dyer 11

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‘There was only banter.’

Dyer's Guide to Campus's Politicos

Man is a political animal, said Aristotle.

Well, like many things that smug Greek prick said, he's wrong. Some men (they're nearly always men) are political demons, sent to this earth, or at least this campus, to share their insufferable (and unoriginal) takes. Meet some of the figures you'd best avoid:

political question? Patrick's right there with six full case studies on why you are wrong, and the obvious solution is nationalisation/privatisation/taxation/a return to the imperial system. Half pub bore and half Economist subscriber, Patrick's downtime is spent listening to the Chatham House podcast, which he'll use as the basis of his strongly held and evidentially based foreign policy views (until the podcast suggests an alternative view).

Neoliberal Nathaniel: Despite being called a neoliberal, Nate actually prefers to think of himself as a libertarian. Civil rights and total freedom, and the market will do the rest. Statehood is a myth, Nietzsche said so, and that's why the UK is a literal police state where if you even think about looking at a minority, it's the gulags for you (which is where Marxists belong, he tells you). Ardently believes that Christopher Hitchens, ironically, was the second coming of Christ. While he believes in total freedom and choice, he doesn't think you should be allowed to choose not to listen to his Considered and Valuable facts (they're not opinions).

Policy Wonk Patrick: Sorry, what's that?

You've stated your emotive opinion on a

Imperialist Ian: Won't normally speak to you unless you're from the 'Commonwealth', which Ian always says with physical scare quotes and a face of risible disgust. Ian insists on referring to Peking, Bombay, and the 13 Colonies. A corpulent figure whose body is undergoing its own aggressive territorial expansion, he's seen on nights out in a pith helmet glaring at people with Scottish accents. Ian knows a concerning amount about the Indian Mutiny, and all six verses of God Save the Queen (he wrote two himself). Ian owns six copies of Peter Hitchens's 'The Abolition of Britain'

Student Delighted to Vomit Over Grade II Listed Structure

and two copies of Oswald Mosley's 'The Greater Britain'.

Socialist Samantha: 'Antha (Sammy is so gauche) read about Marx in her AS Sociology textbook and thought it sounded like quite a good idea for those poor fellows she passes in Kensington (but she'll say she's from North Kensington, quite near Grenfell, you know). With no intentions of ever becoming aware of quite how much tax she has to pay (£0, thanks to Bermuda), as that's the accountant's job, she's more than happy to argue for a 40% tax increase across the board. More money for the state, wealth redistribution, and then everyone can have a double G&T on Thursday with lunch! Doesn't like conservatives because Daddy's one, and signed up to the UYLC mailing list but doesn't really feel like campaigning, or even getting on the electoral roll for that matter. Certain that Ed Miliband will beat Cameron in the next election.

Henry ‘Naturally, I Don't Know Anyone Like These People’ Dyer

Scammers ‐ They're After Your Money A message from the University, YUSU, and GSA by Pro-Vice-Chancellor John Robbing-You-Soon:

Juliet Spiggott walks out of the library, another successful one hour session of intense studying and Scammers make a living by tricking people out of their money. As a even more intense four hour session of submission to student, you are seen as an easy target because you are away from home YorFess complete. As she crosses the bridge, she thinks and may be new to managing money. In fact, as a student, you are clearly wistfully of the panini she had in the library cafe. naive enough to accept our fees.

Suddenly, as she starts to descend the spiral ramp, her stomach turns. The twelve shots of vodka with vodka mixer from last night have not agreed with the bread, chicken, and bacon at all. Bent double, staggering round the sculpture, it all comes out, flowing in a sickening stream across the Grade II listed structure.

It can be difficult to spot a scam as scammers often use social media/evision/University wide emails to identify personal details about you and your family so they seem more legitimate, frequently claiming such details will give you benefits such as 'Alumni Opportunities' or 'A Job'.

Anyone can be targeted so it is important you learn to recognise scams and protect yourself. Please click on this unsolicited random link to learn how Juliet finishes her involuntary expurgation. She is not to identify scams. unhappy with this state of affairs. Instead, she smiles, happy to have contributed something of worth to this If you think you or one of your friends has been targeted by scammers, cultural institution of the university. Yes, she thinks, as please collect your £1000 (ONE THOUSAND POUNDS STERLING) the wave flows past the security offices, this was a compensation and contact the Financial Management Services Bureau of better experience because it was Grade II listed. Thank the University of York as soon as possible by emailing you, Historic England. This is heritage at work. adrian.smith.federal.bank.of.nigeria@y0rk.ac.ok or telephoning 01904 32 Henry Dyer 3724.

Henry Dyer

... writers and illustrators, and it's only £5!

Campus

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‘Chicken cheese would be delicious’ – Editor.

James Fawthrop‘s A Brief History of Time Campus‘s Architecture

In a fit of madness, Nikolaus Pevsner and John Hutchison once wrote of a great stroke of genius when writing about The University of York, before gushing about the brilliance of Derwent College and the free architectural fancy of Central Hall. I am inclined to believe they must have bought some of those pills that the nice man under my window was selling.

The 1960s were a curious time: the USA and Russia were looking for a decent excuse to blow each other up (although this has hardly changed), my parents were born, and Monty Python and Kenneth Clark’s Civilisation were aired on TV. What times those were! But in the backdrop of this optimism and change were the cold, indifferent concrete monstrosities roaming through city centres and picturesque villages looking for as much beauty to gobble up as possible. Betjeman has such a strong look of pathos when observing this change that one rather feels the need just to hug him and reassure him that things will change; we will have postmodernism in a moment, just wait for that.

This exalted university campus, with its great lake (I’m told good for swimming?), its meandering paths beneath lolling willows and sprightly birches, its intricate layout of buildings and atriums and corridors (designed for both inconvenience and the joy of finishing a maze), and its covered

walkways perfectly designed for the vertical tropical rain storms we get hereabouts is one of the glistening and resplendent examples of that bygone age of heroic deeds performed by people dressed in dull grey suits or brown tweed dresses.

No doubt tired by the convenience of walking in a straight line or of having a logical building layout, or of making lecture rooms easy to find the architects released all their creative energies in creating a work that is, in retrospect, genius. How many people could combine the boring blocky buildings themselves (with their air of pure pragmatism) with the chaotic, asbestos ridden, reality for the people moving amongst them? Those buildings of old — where the room doors were numbered chronologically along a central axis, where floor plans were simple, where maps were plentiful and easy to follow, and where great lakes weren’t dumped in front of you when you are late for a lecture — were swept aside by this new creative energy.

I think I might have made my point, and now, in true academic spirit, I must balance the argument with some positives of this 1960’s architecture. At the same time that Vanbrugh and Derwent were being formed like some great grey boulders they were also planting trees and bringing in ducks and geese and the like. This addition is wonderful, in all

sincerity for once, and the autumnal colours that drift to my feet as I lay against the stout trunk of one of these man-made trees bring one out of the hustle and bustle of this world to a state of peace and quiet contemplation. Bravo!

Ducks and trees then, you may argue, are more than compensation for the labyrinth of the biology department, or the endless corridors of Vanbrugh. I admire those people that could design a whole university in one go, although I’ve never got my hands on a ruler before and, ironically, I’m far too practical to design anything like a modern university campus.

Consider Heslington East, newly sprung from the earth. A great glass and laminated wood jungle, miles away from anything of convenience other than those two staples, Unity Health and Nisa. It doesn’t matter that the brick roads are already falling apart or have sunk in the middle, it doesn’t matter that the desolate waste around it is reminiscent of a rubbish tip. What matters is that they have TVs. Of course, the only real downside to Hes East is that it feels clean and brand new, like a sofa out of its packaging. With time, it too shall be worn with the reassuring sick stains, and smears of tomato sauce, and footprints on the walls, and broken ovens and doors and peeling plaster and damp that characterise a university.

How to Do Your Reading: A PhD Student‘s Guide for Undergraduates

No-one likes to do their reading, it's just some guy’s opinion and we're all permanently locked in a kind of performative, academic pantomime anyway, in which the ability to project a picture of knowledge, intelligence and confidence in oneself is infinitely more valuable than any kind of genuine, critical engagement with the overwrought waffling of some dead old fuck who was buried in his horned rims. If God wanted you to read, eat, and sleep all in one day he would have put eyes inside your head so you could consume Descartes in your dreams and form Shakespeare passages out of your Cheerios. With that in mind, here is my guide on doing your reading: 1. Read the first page – Very important, so you know you’re definitely reading the right thing and not The Wind in the Willows again by mistake.

2. Read the last page – This is where they put something called ‘the conclusion’, which is a cheap fucking way of saying ‘this 13

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is where the author actually makes his point in a condensed and explicit way, and allows you to understand what they were on about without being Dr. Manhattan or some shit.’

3. Read the first page again – Remember, The Wind in the Willows has a talking badger in it. If there’s a talking badger in the first page, you might be reading The Wind in the Willows again by mistake.

4. Read any middle page – This will give you some conception of the general waffling argument the author was apparently getting paid by the word to make.

5. Look at Julius Caesar quotes on the internet – Julius Caesar was a very clever man who wrote a lot of books in the Middle Ages or something. He should have something to say on the seminar topic that you can wedge roughly into the discussion.

6. Read ‘The Wind in the Willows’ again – My favourite part is when the frog-man crashes his brum-brum car.

Tom ‘Yes That One’ Davies

Don't just comment on our posts...

‘I hate you.’ – Other editor.

Saudi Arabia Admits they Killed Journalist but are Sorry they Got the Wrong One The Saudi Foreign Minister Adel al-Jubeir told reporters that killing Khashoggi, a journalist critical of the regime, had been a ‘tremendous mistake’: ‘Yes we did indeed kill that journalist, but we are very sorry, because it was a mistake. Someone was clearly acting beyond their remit, and got a bit excited. We – that is, the crown prince and I – had ordered a completely different journalist to be murdered, and the death of Khashoggi was just a sad mishap.

What’s that? Do I know who did it? Well, it would have to have been someone very stupid – wouldn’t it Mehmet? Yes, a very, very stupid person indeed – don’t you agree Mehmet?’

After the press conference the Foreign Minister clipped one of his aides – presumably Mehmet – round the ear, and then shot him in the head in full view of assembled journalists.

Myles Dunnett

ELO to Fight PLO in Battle for Acronym Supremacy The Palestine Liberation Organisation is to go toe-to-toe with the Electric Light Orchestra in what fight promoters are calling an ABFTA (acronym battle for the ages).

In a Las Vegas bout to go on pay-per-view broadcast, the controversial group led by Jeff Lynne is to face off against Mahmoud Abbas's contentious organisation across several rounds.

The first round will require each side to play a cheesy pop rock song with classical arrangements. Abbas is believed to have set up a secret progressive rock training camp in the West Bank.

Sources within the camp report a serious error of miscommunication within the group has led to militants practicing their rock throwing. Lynne is understood to be working on his latest composition.

The second round will see both sides attempt to negotiate with Israel on the matter of settler communities in the West Bank without resorting to violence. An Israeli delegate is not expected to be present, but the fight organisers have argued that this will have little effect on the ability of each side.

The final round will see Lynne, 70, and Abbas, 82, in the ring, fighting until knockout. A special post-match show will see the ELO play their greatest hits to a ‘fireworks’ display by the PLO. Henry Dyer

Mohammad bin Salman to Hold Ouija Board Seance with Khashoggi's Spirit The up-and-coming publicly-acceptable face of the Saudi regime, Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman (MbS), is to hold a live televised Ouija board seance with the spirit of the ‘mysteriously dead and perhaps, shock, not alive’ journalist Jamal Khashoggi.

MbS plans to talk to Khashoggi to clarify that while he may no longer be on this mortal plane, he was certainly not brutally tortured before being executed in the Saudi embassy in Turkey, and that his unfortunate death was the result of a tragic slapstick-esque accident that saw Khashoggi move from misplaced rake to haphazard bone saw before tripping headfirst into a buzzsaw, meat grinder, and woodchipper.

The Crown Prince told reporters in a dark room with a single light bulb swinging from the ceiling and dried red paste on the walls that he had the ‘utmost confidence’ that the truth would come out in this ‘thorough investigation’, before suggesting that the Iranians, working with the Kurds, were to blame all along, or perhaps it was Richard III. The press briefing was then ended early as an advisor came in to ask the Crown Prince which Qatari school/military asset to strike next.

Henry Dyer

Guy Fawkes Had ‘Fist Fight’ With Beefeaters, King James Claims

Would-be terrorist Guy Fawkes has nearly died following a fist fight with Yeomen Warders in the Tower of London, the King has announced.

York-born Fawkes, 35, was visiting the Tower in an impromptu trip of the sights of London, when the alleged fist fight occurred.

Fawkes had previously been found in the cellars of Westminster Palace with a stockpile of gunpowder.

The King denied allegations of torture, saying that he ‘specifically forbade the use of red-hot pokers’, and evaded questions about the use of manacles or the rack, claiming they were part of enhanced interrogation techniques, and that ‘in any case, as we say, he simply had a fight with the Yeomen’.

He continued: ‘As part of our divine mercy, Fawkes will be tried to establish his guilt, fairly, and then executed, fairly, so as to put him out of his misery.’

In an edict, Pope Paul V said: ‘We find this explanation credible and it is an important first step in proceedings.’

Henry Dyer

Street Magician Makes my Wallet Disappear

Spectacular stunt! I wasn't even aware that I was in the presence of a performer until a police officer passed — at which point an elaborate routine began. If I had any money, I’d give it to them!

Will Rowan

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News & Politics

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‘Areeeeeeeee you serious?’ – Sir Philip Green(field) to Lord Hain

Young Conservative Hookup Advice Young conservatives working for Trump’s administration are apparently finding it hard to date in Washington D.C. and I am sure that young conservatives on this side of the pond are having trouble too. But, my fellow anti-feminists, never fear, because thanks to these few tips I am sure you will be guaranteed some of that sweet action in no time! Now, put on your johnnies, keep your hyper-rational anti-feminist arguments that disprove the wage gap to yourself, and let’s dive right in!

•Tip #1: betray all your principles! Yes, that’s right ‘comrades’ whip out your BLM and Che Guevara t-shirts and get ready to hit the town. Nothing says hunky heartthrob like the spreading ideas you know will not work. You can start practicing this at home by using some of these simple catchphrases such as: ‘real communism hasn’t been tried’ or ‘if you disagree with gender-neutral pronouns you are worse than Hitler’ or any sentence with the word ‘equity’ in it. (Don’t worry about picking up the tab after your date either, I am sure your date will be willing to share it!)

•Tip #2: join Trumpsingles.com (yes, this is a real thing). If you want to keep on roasting libtards AND get laid then Trumpsingles.com is the place for you! Make your love life great again by finding people just as lonely and ideologically obsessed as you are. Plus, if you are struggling for icebreakers, you can always just start a ‘lock her up’ chant and it is guaranteed to leave a good impression.

•Tip #3: do not mention what you just read for your PEP reading. I know you find it interesting, but literally, no one else does, you pompous twat.

•Tip #4: start dating older people! Everyone knows the elderly are the ones that keep the conservatives in and the French out so why not show some gratitude and make a pensioner’s night! Moreover, if you are lucky, they might be willing to share their soggy Werther’s Originals with you if you are willing to lick it out of their mouth. Yum! •Tip #5: Join the Liberal Democrats! They are basically Tories that get laid anyway.

Thomas Lansdale

Spelling Bee Contestant Dies After Being Swatted by Judge ‘Miss Hive, please move closer to the microphone — there's a slight buzz in the speakers.’ The volume of said buzz increased tenfold as Hive moved closer. ‘Punctiliousness. Strictly attentive to minute details of form in action or conduct. Punctiliousness.’ 'P-U-N…’ Thwak! Buzz stopped, mic dropped.

Will Rowan

Oli Maddison 15

News & Politics

Doctors Hate Him, It’s You in Five Years Time You've aged 20 years in the last 5. ‘Five Years Time’ used to be your favourite song until you realised you’d transformed from Noah to the whale. All that time spent lounging around and checking you still didn’t like dark chocolate has taken its toll — you’re now at the metaphorical toll bridge with a hefty price to pay. They test your reflexes with a hammer; the only thing that gets those legs up is an advert break.

Initially your heart rate doesn't register and the doctor doesn't seem all too surprised.

Suddenly it starts pounding away at the tempo of the Bee Gees’ hit, 104 BPM, each one is painful.

Will Rowan

World Braced for Shit US Midterms Takes

Worldwide governments are bracing for all the shit takes pundits and Twitter users are going to come up with in the wake of the US Midterms.

Separate amber warnings have already been issued for Republican commentators blaming House losses on ‘Dirty Dems’ attacks and excessive usage of the phrase ‘Blue Wave’ by all commentators. A red warning has been issued for extremely bad takes about Beto O’Rourke taking too much in donations, ignoring all other Democrat fundraising.

However, despite the early warning and preparations experts fear that not enough been done because the bad takes will (cont. for ever and ever) Chris Small

Get us viral this winter.

‘I wrote my dissertation on satire. It was not well reviewed.’ – An editor.

Brexit Negotiations Latest: Theresa May ‘On the Offensive’

Nostalgia Alert: World Leaders Announce Cold War 2

The Prime Minister has gone ‘on the offensive’ at the latest summit of European leaders held in Brussels this week, according to a parliamentary aide.

In a surprise move, leaders of the US and Russia held a joint conference on Monday, announcing a reboot of their classic geopolitical feud, the so-called Cold War (note to millennials: ask your parents!).

Speaking to Emmanuel Macron yesterday, Theresa May was overheard telling the French leader to prepare for ‘your worst pasting since Waterloo’ if he vetoes the Chequers deal, and later that ‘you should go back to your cheese shop.’ She was later seen handing out white cloths and thin wooden sticks to French emissaries before the European leaders’ evening dinner.

Over today’s breakfast, May was heard to tell the German Chancellor Angela Merkel to not be ‘such a sauerkraut’ and after the PM suggested that a more robust way of sorting out the EU negotiations would be ‘some sort of enabling law.’

‘The Prime Minister is going to give the Europeans what for,’ the PM’s trusted parliamentary advisor Sir Arthur Braincell told The Lemon Press’s European political correspondents China Clay and Muffin Drury-Lane. ‘We’ve prepped her with the best debating and negotiating knowledge we could muster.’

The PM’s strategy is to be as rude and demeaning as possible in order to demonstrate her political prowess. ‘It’s a don’t-messwith-the-Brits attitude’ her advisor assured our reporters. ‘We’re also flying in Niall Ferguson to give the Europeans a good talking-to about why they owe their peace, liberty, and safety to the Empire.’

Russian ambassador Sergei Kislyak broke the news to crowds outside the superpower’s embassy in Washington, promising a ‘bigger and more explosive’ follow-up to the first instalment in the series.

‘60s, 70s, and 80s kids all around the world have such fond memories of the first’, Kislyak said, ‘that we thought making Cold War 2: This Time It’s For Real was a no-brainer, really. If you enjoyed The Cuban Missile Crisis, the Berlin Wall, and the Hungarian Uprising, just wait until you experience the annexation of Ukraine, the “Finland Flashpoint”, and Arms Race 2: Reloaded.’

Wow! Stranger Things, a Predator reboot, and now Cold War 2?

Looks like it’s time to stock up on neon signs and synth-pop CDs: 80s nostalgia is IN! Alfie Gerzimbke

Farage to Take Job at Gab as Head of Global Affairs Nigel Farage, the latest washed-up irrelevant former political leader to jump ship to the real seats of power in the 21st century, is to join Gab as head of global affairs.

Prior to the Salzburg conference, the British premier had told members of her Maidenhead constituency that she would ensure that Britain’s deal was something ‘at which Kipling would marvel.’

Gab, which places itself as an alternative to Twitter, is a microblogging social media platform that promotes itself as supporting free-speech. Critics claim it is a home to white supremacists and the far right.

Asked if the PM’s new strategy would get Britain closer to a deal, Sir Braincell shrugged, ‘Probably not, but at least we go down swinging.’

Jack Harvey

Farage, who places himself as an alternative to decency, is a micro-penis prick who promotes himself as supporting the common man. Critics claim he is an establishment man with chums in the far right.

Until September, Gab's logo was a frog, frequently compared to Pepe the Frog. Insiders tell The Lemon Press the logo will be returning, but this time will be based on Farage's amphibian face.

Farage commented on his appointment: 'I intend on having lots of global affairs. Hurrah for Brexit!'

Far right linked frog (cartoon)

Far right linked frog (photo)

For the sake of the NHS, make it a tweet.

He added to no-one in particular: 'Fuck off, gyp.'

Henry Dyer

News & Politics

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If you look carefully, one of these pages contains a coded hate crime.

Brexit Set to Provide Perfect Excuse for Unemployable Graduate No work experience? Poor grades? No fear, Brexit is here. Those graduates entering a post-Brexit job market can do so safe in the knowledge that there is an all-encompassing excuse begging to be used. Both leavers and remainers will finally come together as one — to shirk self-responsibility. Prepare for the excuses...

‘I would have got on the graduate scheme if I wasn’t spending all day fighting the noble fight: retweeting posts from #FBPE accounts. All I stopped was my career progression.’

‘Since the referendum campaign was announced, I’ve spent most of my waking seconds contemplating Britain’s exit from the European Union. It’s the classic ‘pick-two’ scenario; I chose sleep and fretting about impending socio-economic disruption over work. Brexit broke me.’

‘I managed to bag my dream job straight out of uni. The interview was a breeze, the working hours were perfect, and I was excited to start my first day. I was running late and needed to catch a bus, the only one on my route was an all too familiar shade of red — I couldn’t get on. After all the lies and deceit of the leave campaign, the bus proved too much. I couldn’t get on the bus nor could I accept such a great job — that would be so much as admitting that such things are possible post-Brexit.

That’s how Brexit ruined my career.’

So much to look forward to!

Will Rowan

Yemeni Time‐Capsule Just Another IED Students at Yemeni High accidentally unearthed an IED after an administrative error caused them to dig two metres to the right of where they had planted their capsule of yesteryear. Yemeni died.

Tim Cap‐Sool

Liam Fox Finishes Trade Negotiation with Permanent Secretary in Settlers of Catan, Despite Brexit A bottle of Finest Sparkling English wine was popped at the Department for International Trade building at Whitehall after Secretary of State for International Development, and disgraced former Defence Secretary, Liam Fox completed trade negotiations with his most senior civil servant in a tense game of Settlers of Catan.

In a statement to the press, Dr Fox said: 'With just under 150 days until Catan's exit from the European Union, this milestone trade agreement on a one-to-one basis of exchange of goods, specifically wood for livestock, has proved the department's capacity for working effectively to secure our post-Brexit commercial future. This negotiation with my closest civil servant has only taken four months to complete, a sign of the efficient working culture at the department.

'While it would be remiss of me to announce my future plans, my previous attempts at leadership bids and position at the Ministry of Defence make it apparent that I have no ability to act in a subtle manner. Therefore, as part of this government's plans to ensure a stable future for me(eples), I will be building an extra road leading to a port to use as a traffic lane in the event of a nodeal in the future.

'I have no intention of developing anything, aside from my own career. I wholeheartedly reject suggestions that my role in the Brexit process has been pointless to date, as I have two settlements, giving me two points.'

Dr Fox then rolled a seven and placed the robber on the bricks tile marked with a six which two of his settlements surrounded, before complaining about why there was so little new housing being built in the country.

Henry Dyer

Closing Down Sale Continues for Two Miserable Years 'Everything must go!’ Most stores don't take it literally, nor do they cling to life so resolutely. However, this store is special — it's the oldest store on the street, it’s been through two world wars and the early dominance of Amazon. The closing down sale signs are worn from years of being on display, flapping in the wind once every fortnight when a passer-by looks in vain for a public restroom. The shop sits with slouched shoulders, dejected, knowing that it doesn’t have long left.

It's a year later and all that remains are 500 post-it notes and 7 strips of blu-tack. The poster was sold for 10p, being worth its weight in paper. The tape that secured it to the window was used to gag the landlord who came to ‘close up shop’. They didn't realise that it can't close yet, it deserves a dignified end. First, everything must go!

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News & Politics

It's winter now and a few people have moved in, they don't pay rent but they provide a little heat — the radiators are long gone.

One of the post-it notes was used to create an inventory of the others so just six remain. A group of property developers tried to buy it for £50,000, they didn’t want to buy the rest of the inventory though so it was a deal doomed from the start. The day of closure is approaching, we can all feel it.

Spring broke but the will of the shops’ occupants didn’t. Heads in the sand, the debris from a neighbouring building site coated the floor in a fine grain. It was closure — not just of the shop but of a chapter, an era. It didn't die in a blaze of glory, just with a small bonfire made with the remaining carpet, rendering it uninhabitable.

Will Rowan

‘The medium is the message’ – McLuhan.

I hate it when jokes get dated. Please clap.

The Lemon Press Presents: My Favourite Piss, with Daniel J. Fünkelmeyer care. My career was over.

Peeing is one of those ubiquitous things in life, like taxes, death, and that strange urge to throw your mobile phone off of a bridge that you sometimes get. Today, I’d like to take the opportunity to tell you a bit about my favourite ever pee, and how it changed the course of my life, on a day that changed the course of history.

Suddenly: commotion. A plane had flown into one of the World Trade Centre buildings in New York. I ran to the nearest television set, and stood there, transfixed, for some time. By now my bladder had gone into spasm, and I was seconds away from wetting myself. Realising that I needed to find a lavatory urgently, I ran. Just as I did so, the police arrived, and the airport was closed, along with the toilets.

The year was 2001. I was driving along Interstate 95 on my way to Newark Liberty airport. The traffic was moving at a decent speed – 65 if I remember – and the sun was shining warmly on that cool September morning. I had a plane to catch, but was running a little late for my flight. I was booked on United Airlines F93, bound for San Francisco. I had to be in the Financial District by 5pm for a meeting with my boss – the meeting of my career. If it went well, I would be made the head of the Lehman Brothers account – an account that big would never ever be able to fail, and I would be made for life. By this point, I could feel a slight pressure starting to grow in my bladder, but knew that I could relieve myself after I’d got through security at the airport.

Sprinting from the airport, I found a dive bar a minute away. I ran in, ignoring the protesting bartender. Over the bar’s tannoy they were playing radio reports of the terrorist attack. I reached the toilet just in time, and quickly realised that I was about to enjoy the greatest pee of my life. Then, the incredible happened: United 93, the flight I was scheduled to be on, had just crashed near Shanksville. The two forms of relief combined to create the weirdest, most intense sensation of my life. I still remember the feeling every time I stick my tongue into an electrical socket.

Suddenly, I saw something that chilled me to my core: traffic.

But not just a little hold-up. No, this was something else. Miles and miles of taillights. Engines being turned off. Dads standing in the middle of the road with hands on their hips, reporting to their wives that they couldn’t see what the hold up was. Kids were playing soccer with a bottle of urine along the grass verge.

Rage had made me insensible, and I slammed on my brakes hard, coming to a full stop just inches from the bumper of the Jetta in front of me.

When I finally got home at 10.30 I found a voicemail waiting for me: my boss was dead. Three weeks later, I got his job in San Francisco.

And that is the story of the best piss I ever had.

Daniel J. Fünkelmeyer

Things That Make Me Feel Sad

1. When Netflix doesn’t autoplay.

2. When the Apollo 1 test fire happens in First Man. 3. When I see a dog with one leg.

4. When I get a cold.

5. When I get a dead fly in my wine.

6. When I am forced to strangle kittens.

7. When the blood of my victims splashes onto my coat.

8. When I run out of mayo.

9. When the severed heads in my fridge roll onto the floor.

10. When my Amazon order doesn’t come.

11. When my Amazon order comes while I am murdering one of my neighbours.

Myles Dunnett

Furious, I slammed my hand into the radio, trying to find a channel reporting on traffic news. After half an hour of hopefully waiting for the traffic to move, the travel report came on: the road was closed. We’d be there for hours. I made a snap decision. Abandoning my car, I ran to the other side of the highway, managed to get a car to slow down, and convinced the driver to take me to Newark airport for the $1000 in cash I had taken out for the journey. The elderly gentleman behind the wheel willingly accepted, glad to have some momentary company in his lonely life.

By now I needed to pee. Bad. I had drunk a lot of coffee with breakfast to wake me up, and I was starting to feel uncomfortable. The ten minute journey to the airport took 45 minutes – the driver was a 95 year old Vietnam vet who told me all about the war, and how he had fought valiantly for the Viet Cong – I finally arrived at the airport, and was parted from my cash by the elderly Vietnamese gentleman. But it was too late: the gate had closed. I had missed my flight.

Dejected, broken, I sat down on my suitcase in the middle of the terminal, and began to cry. My bladder was aching, but I didn’t

‘Our website is on Medium’ – Dyer.

3 Strange Ploughman’s Lunches 1. Crusty bread, apple, cheddar cheese, chorizo slices, cheese and onion crisps eaten with a fork, a pound of Boursin, a glass of vino, and an egg in this trying time.

2. 4 sausages, 6 rashers bacon (smoked), 2 fried eggs, 3 hash browns, mushrooms, beans, grilled tomato, white toast, butter, filter coffee, orange juice.

3. An actual ploughman, served warm. Horse not included.

Myles Dunnett

Lifestyle

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Khashaggoing once, Khashoggoing twice, Khashoggone.

New Fall Fashion Trends

•Blood Red clothing: Dark reds are always a great colour for fall, and match any skin tone. You can find these in any store, or you can DIY by simply using a knife!

•Dungarees: Pinafore dresses and dungarees are adorable items of clothing, and they’re very practical too! As they are fashion drawn from building site workers, you’ll really feel dressed for the part while you bury the body under the floor boards!

•Earth tones: Autumn is a time where nature bursts into colour, so why not match! You’ll feel one with the earth, and

it will allow you to blend into the background as police investigate the murder.

•Black: Black will always be in style, and during this time of year it’s perfect to give you that witchy vibe. As the kids say, you’ll look just like “the void” and it’s much better to represent the cool trendy void, rather than the void of guilt that is creeping through you like a cancer.

•Primer: As for autumnal beauty products, primer is a necessity. It will allow your makeup to keep looking perfect through the wind and rain, and the beads of sweat that are falling down your face as constant as a river.

•Nail polish: Nail polish makes your nails part of the outfit, and again, polish is great in a dark red, that will induce you into fits of madness, because it’s not his

blood on my hands, it can’t be, why must his soul still torment me?!?

•Beanies: Beanies are great for those bad hair days, and will help keep your hair in place and your head warm during those blustery days. Not to mention, you can pull them down over your ears; it will help block out the beating of his heart, stop this insistent beating I can’t take it anymore!!

•Riding Boots: Cute brown riding boots are always a DISSEMBLE NO MORE! I ADMIT THE DEED! TEAR UP THE PLANKS! HERE, HERE! IT IS THE BEATING OF HIS HIDEOUS HEART!!!

•Make sure to try pumpkin spice perfume!

Lucy Finnighan

Join Henry 'D at AS Biology' Dyer as he ponders serious questions about the food we eat.

Eggs should have dairy in them. Bear with me here, it makes sense. Of the animal products generally consumed in British cuisine, there's a good amount of dairy.

Cows, goats, sheep: all of these animals make nice milk, creams, cheese, and butter. Generally, these products are white. Now, not to be a food racist, but I like how similar coloured foods share properties. Potatoes, pasta, bread, sort of beige, lots of carbohydrates. Types of meat, vaguely pink, lots of protein.

Cheese, milk, butter, white-ish, lots of dairy.

So, I ask you, what's up with the humble egg, be it from a hen, quail, or ostrich?

Why don't the egg whites - and they are WHITE - have dairy? I suspect that Big Chicken is behind a conspiracy to artificially remove the dairy from eggs, and are waging a campaign to make people believe chickens have no relation to milk. 'But Henry', you say, 'Chickens don't produce milk!' You fools. Need I say anything more than... BUTTER CHICKEN? Yes, that's right, if Indian cuisine has found a way to make chicken butter, then they must have also discovered how to get milk from a chicken. I fervently believe the milk comes from eggs, and the egg white is what remains after the dairy

extraction process, with the 'yolk' being the leftover chemical residue from the dairy removal action. Besides, why else do we speak of ‘chicken breasts’, eh?

It’s that time of the year again, for cosy jumpers, boots, and fuzzy scarfs. If you want to get into autumnal fashion trends, but don’t know where to start, don’t worry! Here’s a list with multiple trends that are on the horizon:

Culinary Questions: Why Don't Eggs Have Dairy in Them?

Therefore, it is not a matter that eggs should have dairy in them, but that eggs DO have dairy in them, were it not for the dastardly Big Chicken coverup. I am happy to have broken this news to you.

Consider this case cracked (like an egg which has dairy).

Next time in Culinary Questions: why don't we eat pig cheese?

Henry Dyer

Clubbing a Seal in Seven Easy Steps Let me preface this article by stating, unequivocally, that clubbing a seal is a terrible, awful, callous thing to do.

But, sometimes, people do bad things.

Follow these seven easy steps to successfully club a seal:

Right, now that’s out of the way, let’s get down to business. Are you the sort of person that always has to do the opposite of what they’re told? The sort of person that thrives when they’re being rebellious? Does ‘no’ mean nothing to you, just like Brett Kav—[Absolutely not -Eds.] If so, then this is the guide for you.

Again: seal-clubbing is bad, really bad.

1. Find a club. Anything sturdy will do.

This part isn’t hard.

2. Locate a seal, or seals. A little more tricky, this. Will probably require significant travel.

3. Approach the seal carefully, club in hand. Be quiet, or you may startle them, and that would be unkind.

4. Begin clubbing. Very intuitive stuff

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Science & Tech

here.

5. Continue clubbing. As before.

6. Proceed until clubbing has become sufficient. This is entirely up to the clubber.

7. Leave, taking club with you. Don’t litter - think about the environment you animal.

There we are. I hope that helps.

Myles Dunnett

Find out about our meetings in our emails...

The Zodiac killer never read The Lemon Press. Coincidence?

Things Explained: The Weather ﴾#1﴿ It has come to my attention over the years that there are quite a lot of things in life that are confusing or bewildering and in need of a bit of explanation. In this article, I address that most curious of things commonly referred to as: the weather. Now, your average meteorologist or brainy science type would explain it in terms of gulfs and streams and cycles and what not, but I have had many years’ experience on this planet (nearly twenty all told) and I can tell you with pretty good certainty how the weather works. Let’s begin with the basics. In the beginning there was chaos, then somebody came along and separated the light from the dark. The light was called the sun and the darkness night, but what the moon is doing there and all those sparkly stars I have no idea, I suppose God must have forgotten to separate those bits of light. Feel a bit sorry for them really. Everything was going well, and the days were warm and pleasant and the nights cool and brief when suddenly it came to God’s attention that the poor British people were getting too sunburnt (some even going so far as to taking their shirts off), and so to protect the rest of the world from this ghastly sight he made the sun shy, and it hides behind the clouds.

Wow, isn’t that a neat segue into clouds? Speaking of clouds, they’re also part of weather and are those big puffy things in the sky that look like rabbits and dragons. Normally they cover the sky up completely and seal in our mortal struggle from the hope of the great heavens that hang o’erhead—calling us to run faster, climber higher, and reach out, so that we might one day touch the eternal.

That is, they did seal us in, until we invented the aeroplane. Take that, clouds. Sorry, got a bit distracted there. Clouds like Britain particularly and spend quite a lot of time here, which is why as a people we are so miserable and bitter.

Clouds give us rain (ooh isn’t that another neat segue?). Rain is pretty miserable. It does no end of good for crops and things but I find I can only ever enjoy it when I’m sitting in a café with a cup of tea and watching people outside in it. They rush by huddled in their coats. Someone’s forgot their coat and dashes by in a soaked t-shirt looking miserable. Suddenly a car drives by and drenches them in a 10ft high wave. Another shelters under an awning, until a gutter breaks and causes a couple of gallons of frigid water to drench them in one go. In circumstances such as this the rain can be entertaining and fun. I remember once stepping in a massive puddle and drenching my entire left leg, I heard a guffaw and looked round to see this old lady sitting in a cafe with her tea, laughing at me. Some people have no sympathy.

Wind. Now as far as I understand it, wind is caused by the wind turbines at sea off Scarborough. Wind is of all the weather the most fickle and spiteful creation. You cycle into York with a 40 knot headwind. Very well, you reason, at least I will have a tailwind on the way back. You get to the shop, go in, buy your peppers, onions, and six pack of cider and head out again. In these five minutes the wind has had a change of heart and is now blowing a strong easterly. You cycle off into this headwind. Cunningly, you cut off south down a side street but the wind has anticipated this and moved itself to a sou’ sou’ east. On a really bad day it will call in its pal rain and a steady drizzle will come down horizontally.

Hot and cold are the two temperatures weather uses. Hot exists in the south, residing near London and Kent and visiting Cornwall and Devonshire fairly often. In the North it is cold. In Scotland it is really cold. In Norway it is really very cold and at the North Pole has been described by those who know as, ‘bracing’, just like the water at Blackpool beach.

So that’s the weather really, it’s spiteful and mean and co-ordinated by fate in just such a way that it constantly annoys you and troubles you but offers just enough hope that you don’t give up on it altogether. Join me next time when I find something similarly obvious to explain. Really, you don’t need much of an education for this.

James Fawthrop

‘First Man’ Film Disproves Moon Landings When the trailer was first revealed, I had one thought, ‘truth at last’. Over the years, many have doubted that such an elaborate event could have been the product of Hollywood but here we are. A feature-length film of the moon landings has been released to the masses, finally settling the debate conspiracy theorists settled long ago.

Film critics have lauded the film, resulting in a rating of 81% on Metacritic, a ringing endorsement and signal that the moon landings could have been a blockbuster film — and a good one at that. It’s hard to imagine why they didn’t release it at the box office all those years ago!

Will Rowan

... email lemonpress@yusu.org to join the list.

Science & Tech

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‘GCHQ grant has nothing to do with new surveillance system.’ – YUSU intelligence officer.

An Analysis of the Apollo 1 Fire in the Context of the Modern Incel Movement In the January of 1967, during a routine exercise, three American astronauts were killed in a tragic fire. Ed White, Virgil ‘Gus’ Grissom, and the other one (Roger Chaffee, as if you cared), paid the ultimate sacrifice in pursuit of American superiority in space.

Their deaths ultimately paved the way for the NASA and the history of Space Travel as we know it. And yet, historical analysis has widely ignored, or perhaps simply missed the importance of the disaster that befell Apollo 1 to the concept of incelhood and the hallmarks that define the so called ‘incel movement’ as it exists today. In this essay, I hope to deconstruct the underlying traits that the Apollo 1 disaster possesses which align it perfectly with the black pill worldview of a group of hopeless and angry women hating virgins (or as we call them in my friendship group, a bunch of Roger Chaffees).

First, there are the astronauts themselves. Within them, it is clear that Chaffee is the incel, with his flapping dumbo ears and nonfire retardant skin. His wife was likely scared of his lack of sexual ability, and he was surely the laughing stock of the Gemini and Apollo training programmes. But what of White and Grissom? While a compelling argument could be made for the experienced, heroic Grissom being a perfect candidate for Chad, the manly man possessing qualities that only would be used in moon walking and women sexing, White is by no means a lame duck. With his strong jawline, association with future moon man and probable weirdo Neil Armstrong, and tall almost Olympian posture, White gives Grissom a run for his woman-sleeping-with capital.

Yet this base analysis would be to ignore the obvious. That the entire crew were incel in nature is of no doubt. Despite neither White nor Grissom succumbing to the inferno that consumed them in quite the same pussy-like manner that Chaffee probably did, it is undeniable that their deaths make them involuntarily celibate. Almost by definition, if your wee wee has burned off and you are dead, the likelihood of you having sexy sex in the near or even far future is extremely unlikely (and in the case of Chaffee, impossible). The issue becomes identifying the Chad of the burnt out cockpit. Being a cockpit first and foremost, a manly pit filled with instruments and designed to fill holes in the United States space program, makes the module itself a candidate for being the Chad of the Apollo 1 disaster. Minor elements at play could also become Chad or at least Chad-like in their nature. The electrical fault was a Chad indeed, and started a Chad fire that covered the whimpering snivelling Roger Chaffee in hot steaming gas and likely made him cum in his melting space suit.

Grissom and White would also have suffered.

It is here that I would like to also look at an angle of cuckoldry regarding the oxygen rich atmosphere of the command module. If we instead ascribe Roger Chaffee (and other crew members) as being a cuck, and the air around them necessary for breathing and also being a normal temperature as the wife, then the electrical fire is of course a bull. This bull enters the wife, and the cuck sits by in both humiliation and sexual gratification as the bull electrical fault absolutely destroys the wife oxygen rich atmosphere and Roger Chaffee probably enjoyed it in the few seconds he had before death took him, the bitch.

In conclusion, the tragic fire that took the lives of two people (and one bitch) that day in 1967 is simply one in a long range of spaceflight related disasters that can be studied under the banner of incel and incel related matters. Challenger (Incel school teacher, Chad cracked O ring), Columbia (Incel Israeli, Chad booster foam and potentially bull crack on wife wing), Soyuz 1 (Cuck Komarov, Bull reserve chute tearing into wife drogue chute) and of course Soyuz 11 (Incel Russians, Chad vacuum of outer space) are all perfectly applicable.

Next week, I shall be conducting an analysis of the 1958 Le Mans Disaster in the context of QAnon.

Gregory Waddell

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Science and Tech

When will Facebook release a new react?

It's pronounced SHAR­DOH­NEE YOU PLEEBS

An Inconvenient Thermostat, or: Climate Change EXPOSED All right, assholes, get ready for a truth bomb. You've read the 'liberal' 'media's' 'stories' about some shitfuck part of the Globalist United Nations (the ONLY gun I do not like) doing their usual whinge: 'Ooh, honestly, the planet's getting hotter', and 'Please, this is a serious problem with the lives of millions on the line'. Well, guess what? It's bullshit.

Those 'scientists' ramble on about some rubbish to do with a 1.5C change. Now, for one, Celsius is some European shit, so I don't even know how much that is, but I got the boys in the lab to run some numbers for me, and it's all going to be fine. Here's what happens:

1) I continue driving my Mustang like a real man and crank the thermostat at home 2) You shut the fuck up, shitface 3) The weather gets A BIT more interesting, you buy an umbrella, I close my sun roof, big deal 4) Global temperatures increase, it's warmer all round, and then - the thermostats go down. People burn less fuel, and ta-da, like magic (except it's real hard science), the planet gets cooler, and we all go down to the beach and have a nice time, drink some COOL beers and talk about girls and shit.

What's that those liberals are banging on about now? Coral? Oxygen production? It's fake news, I'm not buying it, if coral made oxygen then we'd see big air bubbles come up, wouldn't we? Liberal scammers at it again. Don't take the bait, folks.

Henry Dyer

Your Age in Games‐Console Years Dog years? Cat years? Forget about them, you can now calculate your age in gamesconsole years. A console generation lasts around seven years. Hence, your ‘console age’ is equal to your current age divided by ten. However, not all console generations are created equal; an original Xbox 360 has a half-life of three years. One year for that same console is equivalent to 20 years for you. Ponder that the next time you shout at your 90 human-year-old Wii. Will Rowan

Whistler’s Mother Released in Stunning 4K HDR

Tinhat Greg: Ancient Peruvians WERE Visited

by Aliens, and the 'Nazca' Lines Prove It

Finally, James Whistler’s artistic masterpiece has been released in 4K. This is the way it was meant to be viewed, beautifully capturing the broad brush strokes, the small ones, and even the particles of dirt embedded in the original. Prepare for a mother lode of detail.

Everyone mocked the great 2008 documentary, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, even going so far as to say it was a 'fictional film', and a bad one at that. Well, all you naysayers are going to look like right idiots now, because it's true. Not only does a fridge save you from a nuclear explosion, but aliens did visit the 'Nazca' people. What's my proof? The 'Nazca' lines, of course, are frequently suggested to be proof of either alien design or alien visitation.

In fact, the increase in dynamic range has brought to light several features that weren’t visible in the inferior original. The demonic red glow of her eyes contrasts sharply with the ethereal halo around her head, presumably representing the trials and tribulations of a life spent hanging from a nail on a wall.

Well, that's not quite right. But first, we need to go back to the 1800s. The century of the invention of the automobile, right?

WRONG. Aliens visited the ancient Peruvians centuries before that, and used their technological wizardry, crystal skulls, and saying 'how do you turn this on' repeatedly to give the people the motor vehicle, centuries before its apparent invention. And then? Well, naturally, they raced in the desert, they drifted, they left patterns, made their own courses. Nascar lines. It all adds up. Prove me wrong, sheeple.

Sony Entertainment were integral to the remastering of the piece, being just as shocked as us to find that Whistler’s mother had a Sony Walkman in her pocket all along. It just hadn’t been visible in the lower-resolution original!

Actually, there were several items in the 4K version which aren’t perceptible in the original. There’s the McDonald's Big Mac sitting just by the back chair leg, the Argos catalogue used as a footrest, and the Doc Marten boots resting atop it. Seeing the two side-by-side makes you question the abilities of Whistler himself, is being able to convey so much additional information so as to be imperceptible at the time an achievement or a failing? Perhaps the public just weren’t ready for it? Whistler was truly ahead of his time, and now Whistler’s Mother is too.

Will Rowan

Until they do, haha reacts only please.

Next time from Tinhat Greg: Great Contemporary Gurus, or, When I Met Shark Tooth Bill.

Henry Dyer

Science and Tech

22

Israel has a wonderful shoreline: book a beach holiday today!

My ‘The Apprentice’ Business Plan

The Swedish Chef Has Been on Racist and Sexist Tirade for 43 Years, Translators Reveal Beloved television cooking personality, the Swedish Chef, has been on a hate-filled tirade since his first appearance in 1975, translators have revealed.

Using new supercomputer powered linguistic analysis, researchers found the cook has been in a near constant state of oratory, breaking only to breathe and shout at himself in faux English.

Despite significant changes in society over the past four decades, the Chef continues to subscribe to a chauvinistic 1820s attitude towards various groups, and has lobbied for a ‘racially pure United Scandinavian Front’, notably in his film appearances. For legal reasons, The Lemon Press is unable to print any more of his remarks.

The researchers intend to analyse the speech patterns of Beaker next.

Not asked for comment, your uncle stated that ‘43 years is nothing’, and Rod Liddle looked wistful and said ‘I hope I can stretch this out that far. I probably can.’

Racist? (Disney) Henry Dyer

Let me start with a few statements of fact… I'm a big thinker. I have flashes of inspiration that are so tightly timetabled that it's like having a 50,000V taser strapped to my forehead. I mean business, I do business, what's my main weakness? That's none of your business. There's just one small, teeny-tiny problem. Yes, I have brilliant ideas. Yes, I believe the giant's shoulders beneath me are buckling under my business acumen. Yes, whenever I look someone in the eyes, I'm merely looking for my own reflection. My enviable qualities aside, I just need a £250,000 investment and Lord Sugar to bring my idea to life.

I propose a television show centred around finding the business leaders of tomorrow — I'm already leading today, give them a chance! The contestants will be split into two teams, competing against each other to complete a business challenge each week.

Their performance will be evaluated by a business leader who will ultimately invest in one of their business ideas, having whittled the candidates down to the final two. I believe Lord Sugar could be just the business leader I'm looking for. He won't need to run The Apprentice any longer if we go into business together!

Will Rowan Bonnie Tyler Still Holding Out for a Hero Don’t leave her waiting any longer! If you’re sure, can be with her soon, and are larger than life, then please help her out. She doesn't want to wait another 34 years!

Will Rowan

Johnny English: Saviour of Brexit?

Johnny English — not to be confused with Johnny Foreigner — is an embodiment of British Exceptionalism. Why don’t we utilise English’s unique skill set more often? Brexit negotiations are stalling, the future settlement looks more uncertain by the day.

If we hold all the cards then they're all jokers — Boris, David Davis, ‘come on’ Arlene Foster. Brexit Britain needs English.

‘I think I'd rather have my bottom impaled on a giant cactus than exchange pleasantries with that jumped-up Frenchman.’

That epithet was intended for Pascal Sauvage but could be easily repeated for the sake of Barnier and Macron — what could go wrong? Negotiations are blocked and English is Cillit Bang in human form, except his purview extends far beyond the bounds of the kitchen and bathroom.

It’s hard to think that just 15 years ago the country was in turmoil. The head of MI7, Agent One, had died in a submarine accident, and the rest of the agents were assassinated at his funeral. Johnny English rose to the challenge. Pascal Sauvage, an ardent europhile, tried to steal the Crown Jewels and claim Britain as his own. The underdog, English, acted with accustomed fortuitousness — stopping Sauvage through a series of tactical blunders. 2003 was a great year for British Intelligence.

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Sauvage wanted to turn Britain into the world’s largest prison, a move welcomed wholeheartedly by G4S shareholders. The idea itself wasn’t the problem, it was the fact that Sauvage suggested it. Now we can get started on building a prison wall around the entirety of the United Kingdom — a bold statement which says ‘Britain is open for business.’ The post-Brexit exchange rate will be 20 cigarettes for a tin of beans.

Once unshackled from whatever it is we’re shackled to — a door, Bough's jacket, some European city which I purposely mispronounce — we can be truly free. Free to have imaginary villains with scars in the shape of any banana: straight or curved. Free to rifle through the Archbishop of Canterbury's undergarments in search of tattoos. Free to have utmost faith that ultimately we will prevail.

However, if Brexit is to be a success, we can’t rely solely on English. Campbell, Lorna not Alistair, puts it simply, ‘What are you going to do, Johnny? Sit in this grotty flat feeling sorry for yourself, or are you gonna get out there and save your country?’

After some hesitation, English chose to save our country; We must come together as one and follow his lead. Rejoice in the greatest gift Britain has given the world: English, Johnny English.

Will ‘Perfidious Albion’ Rowan

Every time you RT, our phones buzz...

Paywall Jackson

The Apprentice Candidates That Didn't Make It

Special Investigation

You think the current crop of candidates should have been fed to the Gemma Collins: Stone Cold Atrocity cattle along with the maize and soybeans? You'll be shocked to find that It is tremendously easy to seem cruel when you criticise thousands of applicants were rejected; I’ve checked a few of the unlucky and mock someone relentlessly about every aspect of hopefuls out. their life. But when people impose themselves upon the Henry Bolton: Ex-UKIP leader, veteran of Bosworth field, and general public, that criticism becomes entirely valid. Step into the skeptic; Henry Bolton was last seen stuffing letterboxes with ‘Our ring, Gemma Collins, a reality star of some renown. Star Nation’ leaflets. He’s now hoping to secure funding for his new political of screen and screen, Collins has appeared in a wideparty from Lord Sugar. All ‘Our Nation’ needs is your money, your time, range of high brow entertainment, from ‘The Only Way is and your ideas for a better name. Upon hearing the news that he was Essex’ to ‘Celebrity Big Brother’ to ‘I’m a Celebrity [Nope.

–Eds.] Get Me Out of Here’. Collins even managed to be unsuccessful, Bolton issued a statement which read: the most annoying contestant on ‘Celebrity Masterchef’, ‘Last night The Apprentice national executive committee decided to a show notable for being headlined exclusively by embark upon a constitutional course to remove me from the process. I soporific dullards, overzealous nobodies, and infuriating will not be standing down from my role as Apprentice candidate. I wish Z-listers. to drain the swamp of candidates which do a disservice to the whole process. Over the coming weeks, I will be directing all my energies to To be clear, this is nothing to do with Collins’ appearance: it is purely and entirely because she is a further this goal.’ contender for the most irritating human being ever Scott Chegg: This Scotty has already been beamed up several times — birthed onto this sorry chunk of rock. Her ‘diva’ antics, far according to his therapist. Business experience includes running from endearing, are the product of an enormously 'probedaroundtheglobe.com', a site which documents all 47 countries bloated ego and an achingly empty cavern where her selfrespect and integrity should be. Of course, stupidity is that Scott has been physically assaulted by alleged extraterrestrials. excusable. Not everyone has access to a good education, Nick Clegg: Former Deputy Prime Minister, Clegg has been looking for a nor is everyone naturally suited to academic pursuits. But way to make it into big business. Unfortunately he didn’t pass the deliberate stupidity and wilful ignorance is not excusable. rigorous selection process — missing out on the £250,000 investment It is a crime against society. Gemma Collins is tearing and being forced to accept a second-choice job at Facebook. It’s British society apart, in an insidious mission to dumb rumoured that Clegg was intending to spend the whole investment on a down the populace. Collins’ act – and I do sincerely hope, reshoot of the fabled ‘I Really Like You’ music video, we will never know. for the sake of her near and dear, that it is an act – is that of a lazy, feckless, talentless, oxygen thief. Does this seem Nick Aragua: Nick thought he was applying for an apprenticeship at the harsh? I do hope so because I really want it to. local garage but somehow managed to apply to be on The Apprentice.

His application began, ‘Dave, it’s Nick. Still need that long wait you were Is Gemma Collins an actor pretending to be a human asking for?’ It only took a short wait before the rejection letter came in being? If so, she is the worst actor of all time. Is Gemma Collins performance art? If so, art is dead. Is Gemma the post.

Collins the recipient of a lobotomy-gone-ok? If so, that is Daryl Smalls: He was so good at GCSE maths that he took it five years in the final nail in the coffin of lobotomisation. a row. He writes all his essential notes on his hand — his name, his age, There is only one figure in modern British pop-culture and (in microscopic print) where he keeps his glasses. who is worse than Collins: that person is Tim Peake. But I Toby Larone: Life is a box of chocolates and Toby is the one who’s picked have neither the time nor the energy to speak of ‘ar last. He's like a Bounty in more ways than one, having had one placed on rocket lad. The question, then, is what to do with Ms his head after a costume worn in poor taste got him confused with a Collins. Should we imprison Ms Collins for life? Should regional warlord. To-by or not To-by was the question playing on we deport her to her home planet? Should we put her in everyone’s minds when the warlord was finally captured and the whole the ol’ chipper? Should we send both her and Timmy boy into space on a one-way mission to the sun? sorry saga came to an end.

Cynthia Herzegovina: Fought in the second Bosnian war after a hen trip Whatever we do with her, please don’t put it on the went too far off the beaten track. Her favourite saying is ‘a true friend goddamned television.

Myles Dunnett stabs you in the front, shoots you in the head, throws you off a cliff, uses

your teeth to make a bracelet, and does it all with a smile.’

Will Rowan

... and the world is that much closer to its end!

Arts

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Top Five Videogame Movies of the Year Games and movies go together about as well as Robert Durst and hot mics in bathroom stalls. Here are five of these such meetings that are better than you would think, but worse than you would hope.

1) 12 Years a Rockstar Intern Following the story of a young man who, after applying for work experience with a well-known and respected videogame publisher, is kidnapped by a pair of nefarious Scottish brothers and put to work on mundane and sometimes dangerous work making Red Dead Redemption 2. The harrowing scene where the man learns he will spend the rest of his life modelling the underside of a horses molar is heart-breaking, and his desperate yet ultimately pointless sexual affair with a fellow programmer is cut short in violent fashion when one of the hip-hop loving brothers takes a nine-iron and beats her to death yelling ‘JACK THOMPSON BUM POO YEEE HAW’. Compelling stuff.

2) Fortnite in Paris I’ll be honest, knowing more about the past of Woody Allen does paint this otherwise charming euro-comedy about an adult man courting an underage girl through a Battle Royale videogame as rather unappealing and a bit sick.

3) BlackKkOpsman Posing as a white gamer, a black non-gamer infiltrates the world of Call of Duty and gets to grips with the seamy and entirely racist underworld of online video gaming. Expect people from across the political spectrum to react strongly either for or against this prescient piece of social commentary. The scene where 60 people yell the n word over and over again over MLG footage of tomahawk kills really does make you think about who you are as a person. Leaving the theatre, despite having drank nothing during the showing, my teeth stung from all the sugary sugary Mountain Dew Code Red that coated my mouth inexplicably.

4) Biocock: Intimate An actual film, don’t look it up.

5) The Social Bowsette Work This daring coming of age story documentary follows a man possessed by will and driven by something perhaps deeper and altogether unknowable on a quest to gather and share all images of Bowsette, Booette and derivatives of these in search of 25

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enlightenment and inner peace. Watch as his normal existence is shattered by the ability to turn Bowser into a beautiful, one could almost say perfect female. In fact, not even just female, just perfection. And then you apply that same principle to King Boo, and my god. Just wow. What a vision of absolute brilliance.

Anyway his name is entirely unimportant and there is no way you can figure out who I am so just leave me alone with my Bowsette. Thank goodness I can remain in anonymity forevermore.

Definitely Not Greg Waddell

Fallout 76: Hands On with the Beta I started it up, and it crashed like Aryton Senna. Then I rebooted

by PS4, deleted all those screenshots of the muscle girl Sakura from Danganronpa I had taken, and it got past the menu. I started the game ready to explore and it crashed like Grace Kelly.

It crashed one more time like James Dean, and then I was on my way.

The game, much like the bad guy from the first Men in Black movie, is very buggy and it probably shouldn’t be. I started firing at a flying type creature, then the game crashed like Princess Diana, and like Diana it crashed hard.

I decided to kill some time waiting for my PS4 to recover by going for a drive when, like PSA Flight 182, I crashed into my neighbours garage. My neighbour was fine about this, however he is diabetic and was suffering from the effects of hypoglycaemia, causing him to crash like the 1958 Manchester Football Team. I rushed him to hospital, and while in the waiting room two televisions were playing two separate movies simultaneously. On one, the 2005 Paul Haggis movie Crash. On the other, the 1996 David Cronenberg film Crash. I began to feel a little uneasy, like the flight crew of American Airlines flight 587, and I quickly took my attention away by reading the JG Ballard novel Crash.

Returning home, I (like Roland Ratzenburger) crashed onto my bed and began to play more Fallout 76. It worked, for a short time, before remembering what it was and crashing much like the 2008 stock market: 7/10

Our alumni are everywhere.

I know drugs.

An Address from Reverend Clay: Dear minions...

A new day begins, a new wintery hell marks the season, and at long last, The Lemon Press returns. Maybe these things are connected?

Maybe we'll never know. Recently, I addressed you all, to update you on my life, and how far our cause of revolutionary satire is reaching. Naturally, with our successes ever expanding I was feeling pretty chuffed, as they say in France, and treated myself to a glass of the old Dalmore '62. Unfortunately, this went from glass, to bottle and then to barrel, and although this proves to you that I too am succumb to mortal pleasures, that evening ended in a rather nasty ditch. As a matter of fact, many of my nights since moving to Cyprus have ended in a variety of ditches, but that's as maybe. It was in this particularly cold muddy hell that I had time to reflect.

Seeing how far we have come as reminded me that I also have a past, and so in this moment of weakness, I tell to you now, the story of my life.

My mother was a simple woman. She had spent her whole childhood a simple bakers boy at Andertons’ on Hesketh Drive, and was never allowed near the other children. After a youth of verbal abuse from her father, and poor fiscal planning from her mother, she ran away to chase her dreams, and became the grand champion of crown green bowls in all of Doncaster. It was at one of these games that she met my father. Although not a player himself, he had been able to work into this level of high society by polishing bowls for all the other players. Across a crowded green, my father went to polish my mothers jack as her hand went to retrieve it.

Seeing her hand desecrated so, she raised her eyes and saw my father. It was love at first sight.

They quickly moved in together, and were quick to start their own family. Born on the high moon of March, my mother gave birth to me in St. Brillards, Rotherham. I was at the time, the youngest of 7, but it took very little time for the family to keep growing, and before long, 34 of us were living in a 2 up, 2 down, 2 across shed in north Scunthorpe. During this time, my father began to grow distant. The loving man he once was turned to iron, steel and tightarsestone. Instead of giving a loving kiss and a shilling as we left for school, he'd take it in turns to kick, beat and steal from all of us. As I turned 18, my mother was becoming ill, and my father was worse than ever, so to save her last few years from being of pain and suffering, me and my siblings rose up against him. The feud was so bloody, many local historians still note the Battle of 24 Connaught Drive as the last fought on English soil. He took down many of us, but in the end, the old man fell down, and I was the one to give the final, decisive blow.

While my psychiatrist insists that this is where an egotistical thirst for power came from, I believe this moment was perhaps one of the most formative in my life. Naturally, this made me the man of the house. Quickly I established a new rule, freedom for all was the order of the day, and I was head chef. My mother however, was still ill, and departed this mortal earth on August 12th. A small part of my heart went with her.

A ruler without purpose, a leader without troops. I had nothing more to work for now my dearest mother had departed, and fell into a deep pit of sorrow and misery. Boozers, public houses, night clubs, I wasn't allowed into them all, and so turned to the only known cure at the time for such deep pain. Poetry. Looking back on my days of addiction, I can see how much it only made it worse, but at the time, a line of Byron, a stanza of Owen, it was all good. It only took a tiny crumb from any old sonnet to get my heart going, but it wasn't getting me anywhere. There's only so deep anyone can get before they have to reside themselves to a life of pain, and having suffered enough, I pulled myself out of the pit of despair with some lighter works. Looking down one morning at the scraps of literature I had in my pockets, I noticed that I was moving in one direction, and all of a sudden, my life had purpose. Satire! It was all satire, that's what was helping me out of the misery!

Realising this, I knew what I had to do. Moving away from my past, I headed north, and dear minions, this is where our stories become mutual. I was not the founder of The Lemon Press, nor was I close to the roots of its history, but with hard work, determination, and nobody else running for the gig, I became its president and leader, and this is where we are now.

Yours always, Lord Great Chamberlain, Earl Marshal Governor-General, Dr. Reverend Clay KG KT OM GCVO ONZ GBE AK QSO GCL CC CMM PC CD ADC(P) BA(Phil, 2:2)

They're always watching.

As drawn by Holly Palmer

Features

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Looking forward to the film Peterloo. Not for the right reasons, mind you.

Cynthia Claudette-Bonaparte Senior Rebel Instigator and Meticulous Muffin Investigator, ScuzzFeed UK

Top 3 Beer Hall Putsches

3. Koen Lamberts Ousted From UoY Yes. It finally happened. With the combined strength of disgruntled pensionless lecturers and chairs swivelling at full force, over the summer Koen Lamberts was forced out of Heslington Hall and made a rapid retreat further south. It was a glorious day for everyone involved, until they remembered that he was simply going to be replaced with another chair swivelling, pension disputing husk of a person. Gains points for finally getting rid of him, loses points for him not running far away enough.

Points: -16,000/16,000 2. The Munich Putsch Genius plan from Hitler and Co. of relying on threatening important figures in the state government, and then leaving them alone overnight in order to safely betray him. Other brilliant parts of the plan include only carrying out the Putsch after support for the German government began increasing again. Loses points for the Nazism, gains points for Goring being shot in the leg.

Points: -8/11 1. The Gunpowder Plot Ok, fine, I know this one is tenuous, but with all the bars and drunk MPs, I think I can get away with calling the houses of parliament a beer hall. Technically the first of many attempts of reforming the House of Lords, and as about as successful as all the others.

Gains points for the subsequent fireworks displays, loses points for the Papism.

Points: 5/11 Lucy Purkis Charters and Chris Small

If Celebrity Couples were a Pizza, This is Which Pizza They'd Be Ariana and Pete: Ham and Pineapple Some people love it, others hate it. It may seem like a good combination at first, but ultimately it is and always will be terrible.

Kanye and Kim: Calzone It’s still a pizza, but it has had some work done. End of.

Jay-Z and Beyonce: American Hot A classic everybody loves but with that spice that really can hot up. Let’s not talk about that one time with Becky with the good hair.

Chrissy Teigen and John Legend: Florentine A beautiful pairing, but you would never go for it. Like ever.

Sharon and Ozzy Osbourne: Margarita Timeless. A classic. A family favourite. You know everything about them and they know everything about you. Sharon and Ozzy in our hearts forever and always.

Maia Bates and Ottie Wallace

Cursed Oven Denies Claims It Is Used As Arbitrary Space Filler, Alleges Tiny Horses Conspiring To Besmirch Its Good Name SCUZZFEED HQ — Representatives for the Cursed Oven have alleged the hand of the Tiny Horse Union is behind a ‘smear campaign’ designed to ruin the reputation of the Oven. This follows claims that the Cursed Oven is nothing more than an image used by editors to hastily fill space on a page when there is not enough content. They claim to have evidence of their cursed nature and s– [The anonymous author of this article has been fired. — Eds.] 27

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Satire amidst the sadness...

Tiny horses reference.

Formula One Pundit Hoping for Horrific Crash

that having electric motors in F1 cars promotes development in this vital field, he commented that he ‘couldn't really give a toss about climate change’.

‘The sport’s just too safe these days, it's boring’, complains a top pundit who shall remain nameless. ‘Let's be honest, all the crowd really want is a gutwrenching, high speed accident that leaves the driver in bloody pieces or at least trapped in the burning skeleton of his car.’

Many blame new ‘health and safety’ regulations for the lack of crash related excitement.

New regulations include: mandatory four wheels for every car taking part in the race, a steering wheel that can turn both ways rather than just left, and the worst one of all, drivers must wear helmets.

He added: ‘The public would much rather see shards of carbon fibre spinning into the helpless crowd than think about what the hell aerodynamics and fuel efficiency even mean’.

The shift from red-blooded petrol guzzling engines to pathetic electric motors has also put a spanner in the works for many F1 fans. Our anonymous pundit had this to say on the matter:

Our strictly anonymous source tells us that he struggles to stay awake for the whole 60 laps of the races these days: ‘I've had to start watching Transformers during the races just to get my fix of metal on metal action!’ Our source also complains that he doesn't get to solemnly commentate over heartbreaking scenes of destruction as much anymore, which he really misses, mostly as it’s what gets his voice out there on YouTube.

‘It’s like watching bloody Scalextric, they buzz around the track like annoying bees. I reminisce about the days when the sound of the engines would leave you with long term hearing damage.’

When questioned on the fact

When we asked for his final thoughts, our source remarked that he has had to resort to making sub-par puns to keep the races interesting, saying it was: ‘frankly exhausting’.

Tom Willett

If Your College Was a Sport, What Would It Be? Derwent: Darts Perpetually pissed but still in command of their fine motor skills, mostly used for picking flakes of asbestos out of their toothbrushes as opposed to darts. A full year of catered English breakfasts also goes a way towards the Phil ‘The Power’ Taylor style physique.

Langwith: Cross country Think this one is fairly self explanatory…

Alcuin: Lacrosse Much like lacrosse, nobody is quite sure what Alcuin is.

Constantine: Equestrian Let's be honest, If Wills and Kate were going to meet anywhere in York, it would be in the disturbingly clean blocks of Constantine. And what do the royals like? HORSES. Especially dancing ones.

Wentworth: Walking Football Seeing as the age demographic of Wentworth seems to be largely over 50, that would put them right in the range of a lovely bit of walking football. Just like regular football, but without any of that pesky running that makes hobbling down to Biology in the mornings a task of Odyssean proportion.

Halifax: Football Football is the game of the people, Halifax is the college of the people. But much like when playing football, a lot of people in Halifax are only really here for a kickaround down the park. They can't be bothered with shin pads or first class degrees! They’re just out for a good time.

Vanbrugh: Quidditch They all think they would be in Gryffindor but let's be real, you’re a bunch of Hufflepuffs.

James: Swimming James is very near the lake, which looks pretty on the open days but has the unfortunate consequence of regularly flooded rooms. An Olympic level front crawl is then necessary to collect your toast from the kitchen.

Goodricke: Chess If you can't do it sitting down in The Glasshouse, it’s a no.

Tom Willett

Roy Hodgson for PM!

Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘Why are you spouting off about some senile old bag of a football manager when we have a bubbling geyser of talent within the Conservative party! There's a multitude of young hot shots waiting patiently in the wings to assume the role when Theresa Bae decides to follow her lifelong dream of becoming a Geography teacher.’

Well, I'll admit that at first glance, Roy may seem like an odd choice for the role. This is a man that — despite managing over 16 clubs — is best remembered for looking strangely like an owl.

These are not ordinary times, however, and with Brexit negotiations starting to resemble the streets of Liverpool after a

... make YOUR timeline a better place today!

particular messy Merseyside derby, we need a man that understands that it’s a game of two halves.

‘But what about Gareth Southgate,’ I hear you cry. The lithe, chiselled, and dapper sweet prince of the nation. Does he speak Swedish? Does he have the assured air of an elder statesmen?

Will he be able to swan into Brussels and give Jean-Claude Juncker a stern halftime talking to? No. Roy is uniquely placed to lead our nation in this tumultuous time and while we’re at it, let’s whack him on the new fifty pound note.

Tom ‘We Have Other Sports Writers Too’ Willett

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What’s worse ­ picking up the tab after your date, or picking up The Tab after your date?

Horoscopes with Lucid Lucy Capricorn: Jan 20 - Feb 16 So apparently there’s a new star sign, Ophiuchus, and let me just say, I hate it.

Aquarius: Feb 16 – March 11 It’s completely thrown off the whole chart and all the dates.

Thanks, now I’ve gotta do all the research to have the dates correct. You think I chose to write the horoscopes because it was effort?

Pisces: March 11 – April 18 As for the readers, that means they’ve got to start checking what their new sign might be. Sure, it’ll be exciting at first, but that’s gonna get old real quick.

Aries: April 18 – May 13 Who even found out about the new star sign? NASA? What the fuck NASA? You couldn’t have found it sooner before I took this position?

Taurus: May 13 – June 21 Then I had to do some research into whatever the hell this sign is supposed to mean about someone. Its symbol is like a man holding a snake underneath him? What is that supposed to even represent?

Gemini: June 21 – July 20 Trying to make dick jokes, Ophiuchus?

Cancer: July 20 – Aug 10 Like okay, cancer may just be a literal crab, but that doesn’t mean we can just start picking and choosing bullshit symbols.

Leo: Aug 10 – Sept 16 And since 86% of peoples’ star signs have changed, does that mean that all the characteristics that define my sign don’t apply to me anymore? That all of the last horoscopes I’ve written are irrelevant because they don’t apply to the same people?

Virgo: Sept 16 – Oct 30 You’re telling me that horoscopes are meaningless now? Is that what you’re trying to say, Ophiuchus?

Libra: Oct 30 – Nov 23 And what kind of name is Ophiuchus anyway? Congratulations, you’ve given yourself a name no one’s gonna be able to fucking spell.

Scorpio: Nov 23 – Nov 29 Might as well have called yourself ‘Orangutan’ or some shit like that. Now I gotta get a dictionary every time I need to write your name. Thanks for bringing everyone nothing but problems.

Ophiuchus: Nov 29 – Dec 17 This is your fault bitch.

Sagittarius: Dec 17 – Jan 20 Fuck you Ophiuchus.

Lucy Finnighan

Dictionary Corner with Harold Clay: What Phrases Really Mean Do you remember when all the smart arses saw on QI that there were hidden phrases in eulogies and obituaries? You know the ones, like 'he never married' meaning the person was gay, or 'didn't take fools gladly' meaning they started fights in pubs. Well, today I want you to feel like you've got one over on them, with the complete guide to real euphemisms in obituaries.

Had a private burial - thrown in a mass grave Their departure left a mark on many - owed people money Never felt the need to settle down - Gypsy Found fulfilment in helping the local community - given two months community service Had a smile that could light up the room - could afford teeth whitening Served with the armed forces, receiving several decorations - managed to kill more indigenous people than his mates Had a strong love of animals - was arrested for performing an unusual act with a King Charles Spaniel Harry Clay

Send Us Your Lemons!

Unfortunately, The Lemon Press is out of ideas and we really do not care anymore. So, send us your lemons. Big lemons, small lemons, weirdly shaped lumpy lemons, whatever lemons you have. Or don't. Again, we are out of ideas and don't give a shit.

We may as well just send out a blank piece of paper at this point as this is nothing but stupid meaningless tabloid page-filler drivel. In fact, because we just asked for your nudes [Lemons, surely? - Eds.], I think we should just give up and never publish any papers again. That is the only way to save any shred of dignity this university and we may have left.

Thomas Lansdale Harry Clay 29

Horoscopes

Right that’s all for now. Final stop.

See you in 2019, fuckos!

Excerpt from Durcan II: This Royal Throne of James, This Sceptred Uni This royal throne of James, this sceptred uni, This dearth of majesty, these awful bars, This other Eden, Nisa-paradise, This fortress built by Morrell for himself Against infection from those in the north, This unhappy breed of geese, this little world, This precious stone set on a dirty lake Which serves it in the office of a well Or as a moat destructive to a house, Against the envy of less happier schools, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this uni, This nurse, this teeming womb of useless sabbs, Feared as they breed and famous for self-worth, Renownèd for non-deeds as far from home For non-denominational service and true bastardry As is the sepulchre in stubborn Heslington Of the world's ransom, blessèd YUSU’s son.

This land of such young souls, this dear, dear land, Dear for her ranking through league tables, Is now leased out - I die pronouncing it Like to a tenement on Tang Hall Lane.

York, bound in with the triumphant lake, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery fowl, is now bound in with shame, With inky blots and rotten tabloid bonds.

That uni that was wont to conquer others Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.

Myles Dunnett

The Craven Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door— Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow From my Vision surcease of sorrow—sorrow for what we abore— For the rare and radiant paper, who claims to have to most awards— Send us Nudes, for evermore.

Lucy Finnighan

All change. Take your rubbish with you.

An Ode to Hes West Callooh, Callay! What joy, hooray!

O poison’d lake and campus grey!

What care we for red-brick art, O’er concrete cubes? Nay, my heart, It gladdens over every goose, And every Asbestos-lined roof.

The architect, old legend holds, Who built St. Basil’s, in the cold Was blinded after by the king, Just to ensure no other thing The craftsman built would be so fine – His vaulted church would reign divine.

O Campus West, with thine beauty unmatched, O great muddy pond with spaceship attached, St. Basils’ is fine, but your splendour finer; Should we not blind all your designers?

Your grace stands alone, in all the North All other campuses are surely dwarfed!

Alfie Gerzimbke

Our NHS Our NHS, which art down the road, Hallowed be thy Name; Thy sick ones come; Their ill undone in earth, as it is in no other country: Give us this day our daily NHS lunch; And forgive us our misuses of A&E, as we forgive them that sit in the waiting room besides us; And lead us not into privatisation, But deliver us from Tories: Amen Thomas Crawford

Your Eyes Your eyes were blue, Like eyes that are blue, Your face was a face, Your body has arms, You exist.

(Winner of Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize) Lucy Finnighan

The College of Verona Never was there a tale of more woe, Than of Derwent, and her asbesto.....s Lucy Finnighan

A Word from an Editor Here endeth a tale of strife, For this here work I lay my life, And with these lines

I hereby state: Here ends issue thirty eight.

Myles Dunnett

Poetry

30

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The Lemon Press wants your pictures of crosses, crucifixes, paintings, and sculptures of the crucifixion of Christ. Our expert team of History of Art students will rate and review your images – bonus points if you include a rood screen!

We're not going to publish them or anything, we’re just feeling a bit bored and reckon it might be a nice way to pass the time. Submissions in to thelemonpresseditor@gmail.com. Do not send anything else please please please please please!