On top of my Hackgrass reveal antics on our last morning in office, it seems we held some sort of bogus committee meeting later in the afternoon. More a symposium than a mere meeting, by the looks of it.
It looks as though I completed the minutes that December, ahead of our January 1986 appearance at the UGM I shouldn’t wonder, so I’ll publish the typed version at that date. The hand-written version that follows must have been part-written on the day and then concluded later.
Experts at handwriting analysis forensics might be able to work out exactly what went on. John White – I suggest you might choose not to apply for this role, if your attempt at the Hackgrass cypher is anything to go by.
Most of my fellow committee members didn’t know that I was Hackgrass. Indeed the only person on the committee who did know was Pete Wild, as the only people still at Keele who did know my identity were my remaining former Barnes L54 flatmates (hence Pete), Petra Wilson and Annalisa de Mercur.
For the last day of our office as sabbaticals, I wrote a final Hackgrass one-pager and revealed myself to the lovely Pat Borsky in the print room. (As Hackgrass, I mean; please retain some decorum and concentrate, dear reader). Pat agreed to print the one-pager as a publicity circular (pub. circ.) special and the rest is history.
The one-pager caused more than a bit of a stir that day in students’ union circles. I thought best to lie low in my office.
Soon enough, John White plonked himself in my office with pub. circ. and a copy of the February Concourse, saying that he wanted to break the code.
I said that I didn’t much care who Hackgrass was and that I wanted to finish off some work, as I was still very busy.
John laboured with the puzzle for some time in my office, concocting some highly convoluted theories such as:
a=1…z=26, reverse the number series and rework the letters
Once I got irritated enough, I suggested to John that whoever Hackgrass was, he or she probably wasn’t that sophisticated a cipher-wright, so John might be better off trying something really simple like the initial letters of the words in the sentence.
About 10 seconds later, I received an unrepeatable (indeed forgettable) stream of invective from John. I have forgiven him for the invective and I believe he has forgiven me for keeping my identity as Hackgrass a secret during our sabbatical year.
The Concourse team seemingly wanted its own gossip column to replace the now marginal/retiring Hackgrass, so came up with this Obiter Dicta column. Not sure who was behind it, but I’d guess that Krista Cowman (new editor) had a hand in it herself, possibly Quentin Rubens (the outgoing editor).
Something tells me that Ali Dabbs was involved. Partly the style, partly the strangely positive reference to his physique.
It soon dawned on me that it was both impractical and inappropriate to be H. Ackgrass while a sabbatical on the Union Committee. But I kept it going through that first term and I think even wrote one more column early in the second term, which was brutally butchered by the editor. I probably have both the original and butchered versions to post in the fullness of time.
The Hackgrass column as published in December 1984
Despite the embarrassment of the Ringroad performance when supporting Lenny Henry in late November, my diary notes that we did a couple more performances that term. Get straight back on the bike after falling off and all that. It was probably part of the deal for having our Lenny Henry support show pruned.
And on the subject of pruning comedy, the headline picture is the entirety of the Hackgrass column as published in that December issue – much shorter than the piece submitted.
“Uncle” Quentin
This was to be Quentin Rubens’s last swipe at Hackgrass with the editor’s pen, as this was his last Concourse issue.
To be fair on Quentin, I think I had more or less completely run out of gas with Hackgrass by then. It was one thing to snipe pseudonymically at the committee from the side lines, but as sabbatical hidden in plain sight, it made no sense. In an attempt to disguise myself still and to “up the ante” some of the stuff I threw into that piece were both visceral and unfunny. Whereas some of my earlier griping about being pruned was fair, I think Quentin actually helped me to dodge bullets when he edited that column.
There are one or two not so bad jokes in there.
Actually I think the funniest stuff from that Concourse was in the letters. Annalisa de Mercur, who had done a two page spread on the miner’s strike (see below) wrote a coded letter which she now thinks was something to do with mushrooms (non-psycho-active ones)…
Cryptic to say the least
…while Richard “Wally” Hall, in his epistle, slagged off H Ackgrass for being the sort of person who snipes at those who speak at UGMs while not participating himself. Clearly he, like most folk, still hadn’t guessed who I was.
Lacking awareness of all kinds
Here are the extracts from my diary:
Saturday, 1 December 1984 – Shopped and did some work today. Went over to Kate’s [Kate, now Susan Fricker] for dinner – stayed late
Sunday, 2 December 1984 – Rose quite late – did some work in afternoon. Performed Ringroad in evening – went to Petra’s [Petra Wilson] briefly after.
Monday, 3 December 1984 – worked hard today – stock report came through [still losses, although at least the new bar managers had some ideas on what to do about it] – meetings. Early night.
Tuesday 4 December 1984 = Lots of committees etc – very busy in office. Went to Annalisa’s birthday party. Petra came over later.
Wednesday, 5 December 1984 – busy day with lots of meetings etc. John Boy [John White] came over for dinner in evening.
Thursday, 6 December 1984 – Busy day – solicitors in morning – committees – very busy afternoon. Went to KRA and Lindsay Ball. Petra came over later.
Friday, 7 December 1984 – Up early. Worked before UC in morning – very busy afternoon. Went down to London in Eve.
I have written up that weekend in London separately – it was an absolute corker and well worth a read if you like London, theatre and/or the 1980s.
Saturday, 8 December 1984 – Got up late – had late lunch – bummed around all day. Went to Royal Court to see The Pope’s Wedding – on to Mayflower after.
Sunday, 9 December 1984 – Got up quite late. Went into West End – had meal in Swiss Centre – came back to Keele – Petra came over.
Monday, 10 December 1984 – very busy day in office etc. Last UGM of term in the evening – went well.
Tuesday, 11 December 1984 – Very busy day today – work and meetings (Residential Services etc). In evening rehearsed Ringroad till late.
For the completists and/or deep readers amongst you, below are scans of Annalisa’s extraordinary piece about her visit to see the Silverdale Miners – for those of you who remember Annalisa and remember what Silverdale miners looked like, I can imagine Annalisa standing on a stepladder in order to interview those guys face-to-face:
If you are brave enough, you can also read the unexpurgated version of that H Ackgrass column. I apologise unequivocally, with the hindsight of age and better comedic judgment, for the visceral rubbish that got edited out.
This current piece shows H Ackgrass’s third column, which was published in May 1984. Somewhat irritatingly, I have the carbon copy of this one, which was more or less reproduced in full, but not the second, pruned one. I set out my grievance in excruciating detail at the start of this third column. Quentin chose to publish the grievance in full.
Here it is, firstly in its published form, from Page 11 of Concourse May 1984, then in its unexpurgated (not that it was much expurgated) carbon copy form.
If by any chance some readers want to know what Steve Cleary had to say in complaint about my second column, here is a copy of the letter as published in the same edition of Concourse:
Amongst my Keele papers I also have the original of Steve Cleary’s letter to Concourse. I cannot fathom how that came into my possession. Either Steve placed a copy in the “Ha” pigeon hole for Hackgrass to pick up or possibly genial Uncle Quentin gave it to me as a souvenir once I outed myself as Hackgrass in the summer of 1985. Steve might know…and Steve might, by now, have forgiven me.
The extract from Concourse that follows contains the second published column. Unfortunately, I either failed to keep or mislaid my carbon copy of the submission. That second column was cruelly edited, as my whinge in the third column (May 1984) attests.
Unless I find the carbon copy misplaced amongst other papers (vaguely possible but unlikely 40+ years hence) we shall never know the detail of the scurrilous scribbles that were edited out, nor shall we discover which good jokes were cruelly pinched and inserted into other people’s articles in that March 1984 edition of Concourse. Naughty Uncle Quentin (Quentin Reubens, then editor of Concourse).
Anyway, here is the column that did get published on Page Seven of the March 1984 Concourse.
1983/84 was my finals year. I was Chair of Constitutional Committee that year (somewhat press-ganged into running I might add), so I was strangely on the inside of the students’ union politics without really being part of its core.
I thought it would be fun to have an anonymous gossip column, so came up with the idea of H Ackgrass, or “Hackgrass”. Many myths about that column spread in the years following about the column’s antiquity, but I know I made the name up myself. There had been others, such as Molesworth, in earlier years, but this name was new, as was the somewhat visceral nature of the humour. I know the name was subsequently re-used by others. I am flattered.
I knew the Concourse (and Union Committee) lot would want to know who H Ackgrass was and I thought I’d be a prime suspect. Thus I was rather harsh on myself, in this first column and subsequently, in order to try and divert attention. This approach pretty much worked.
I had a spare old portable typewriter, so battered about that I didn’t really use it any more; it was very obvious in its idiosyncratic type, so I thought that using it would add to the mystery and might put people off my scent, as long as I kept the offending machine hidden. Indeed, I know at least one Concourse person sneaked into my flat at one time to check out my (regular) typewriter, only to conclude that Hackgrass couldn’t be me.
Quentin Rubens, the Concourse editor at the time, hardly edited anything out of that first piece. I thought he would tone it down a lot; there were certainly a couple of edgy lines I expected would go. Surprisingly, Quentin did edit out one descriptive phrase I made about myself, “arch lefty”. I don’t know whether that reflected his feelings about my politics or his own sense of what is an insulting term. In later pieces, he got the redline pen out a lot more. Deservedly so in several cases.
Anyway, here is the very first column, both in published form and then its original submission form. My submission copies are clearly photocopies but I know they were originally carbons. I must have made photocopies just before I left Keele and disposed of the carbons.
