Information overload

Walking up and down Oxford Road, it’s hard not to notice the increasing proliferation of literature demanding your attention. Arriving in Manchester in early September, anyone foolish enough to stroll blindly past the Union of either of the universities is immediately ambushed by people trying their damndest to get rid of the stack of flyers they’ve been given.

Generally they’re all the same. “Come to our club you wacky, mental student! Drink our cheap drinks and grope a fresher!”. The “F*CK ME” stickers were a level above (or below?), but as with all these things they are, unfortunately, part and parcel of the whole university experience. Being able to get into your uni without being drowned in garish, horrible advertising just doesn’t seem feasible.

So this Autumnal onslaught sets the precedent for the academic year ahead, although flyering dies down in the winter months. This is mostly to do with there being less hardy folk willing to freeze their fleshy appendages off for the sake of a few quid and the opportunity to become one of the most hated of a sub-culture already universally reviled.

Spring is around the corner, so with (relatively) warmer temperatures and a bit more skin on show, the clubs are after their next pound of flesh. But what’s this? A new type of advertising has joined it… It was there all along, but suddenly political activism appears to be the new in-thing with billboards, signs, flyers, stickers and my personal favourite – posters stapled to trees.

Of course there are worthy causes plying their trade. Religions, protests against institutional wrongs, canvassing for upcoming elections, along with your ten-a-penny clubs (with drinks similarly priced).

My problem isn’t necessarily with the volume of advertising you encounter on Oxford Road – like I say, it’s to be expected in a half-mile as crammed with students as this. My query is how effective it all is? ‘Information overload’ springs to mind. There’s now so much stuff to look at as you wander around that it’s all just blurring into the background.

Just the other week I was attempting to track down a protest group to take some photos and I thought I’d found them when I noticed a small number of placards being trooped past the Royal Northern College of Music. When I got closer I realised that they were all advertising the same club night. A protest against a global crisis was being drowned out by an exploitative nightclub’s marketing department.

Is this a metaphor for student life in general? I’m beginning to think so.

Paul Capewell