The year is 2030: Theresa May has lost her voice indefinitely and instead uses Alexa’s new mind-reading function to make political speeches, Labour is now 15 different parties all of which basically want the same thing but are too stubborn to admit it and Jacob Rees-Mogg has grown a little moustache and only goes by the title of ‘Fuhrer’. In Westminster, Article 50 has just been delayed for the thirty second time and Brexit negotiations have entered their 728th week.
Meanwhile, the sun beams on the Parkinson building. It’s lunch time and students enjoy sandwiches from the selection of delicatessens on University road, all of which are now controlled by the Bakery 164 protection racket. Someone suggests eating on 1×5 metre corridor that hasn’t been boarded up on the Parkinson steps. ‘When’s this supposed to be done by?’, one asks. ‘Apparently they’re making it wheelchair accessible,’ replies another. ‘Surely, surely if co-op can dismantle, paint and redecorate essentials in the space of a few days then the Uni can put a disabled ramp on some steps in at least a couple of months?’ Nobody answers, the boards are still up: they go to Terrace.
As Brexit and the building work on the steps outside Parkinson seem to be moments trapped in time, The Whip has taken a look at five other things that definitely won’t be done by the end of the next decade.
Game of Thrones:
I mean, obviously. They’d be foolish to let such a lucrative franchise come to its natural conclusion. Jon Snow has just come back to life for the sixth time, Joffrey is all grown-up with a wife and kids on the suburbs of Westeros and that little dwarf guy still can’t quite master an English accent. Even after 19 ten-hour seasons, no episode is as good as Ozymandias from Breaking Bad: shame.
Next door’s afters:
You asked the petulant little shits to turn the music down 11 years ago! That’s right, 11 years you’ve had to put up with their incessant fucking music and the occasional sound of a nos cracker. You even moved off Brudenell Road to a house on the Hessles but they fucking followed you and set up next door only louder. The cheek!
At first you were merely an undergrad – fresh faced and naïve. Then you were a master – older but still eager to learn. Then came the PhD, then the year in industry and finally the seven-year architecture conversion with a potential sandwich year in Heidelberg if things go your way. Can never be too qualified.
The queue to Royal Park:
The pub has benefitted from the new halls that have been built in the little bit of scrubland opposite. It’s now open 24/7 and as one person leaves another two join the back. You reached the front once, in 2027, but you’d forgotten your saver card and fuck paying full price for a Doom Bar. You’re still a student, after all.
The painting of the Forth Bridge:
Well, duh. That’s like its thing. Read a book why don’t you.