It’s Hilary term and alongside occasional snow and the return of Ahmed’s, all the E&M kids have managed to bag themselves a ten week corporate internship. KPMG, EY, P&G, PwC  – if you know the lingo, then you know the lingo. If not, the names of all these companies seem to resemble a line from that terrible Tinie Tempah song, which finishes ‘see what’s hiding in my CK briefs.’ In reality, it is pretty terrifying for those of us who once thought we might be able to scrape through Oxford dividing our week evenly between half-complete essays and the queue outside Bridge.

I am trying though, and aside from desperately leafing through the JCR’s 2011 copy of The Times Top 100 undergraduate employers, I created a CV.

I did this until late last night and had a revelation. The CV is God. Hear me out… The CV is God and a God who does not rank compassion particularly highly on his list of virtues.

No longer do the pious trek to Church on a Sunday, repeat the Lord’s prayer and put a few coins in the confession box. Nowadays, the devout must show their reverence to a different Almighty: the curriculum vitae and bane of my life. A new type of devotion is required for this new deity. The holy must volunteer for JCR Committee positions, do work experience and cultivate a lame interest like mountain-climbing or journalism. Today, charity work is completed not in an attempt to do good in service of a Christian God. Instead, that ten week scheme in Zambia, you signed up for, is exclusively to fill the blanks of one’s CV.

If the CV is a looming, omnipotent God, forcing his subjects to perform inane tasks, then JCR Treasurers are His most devoted monks. Surely, no-one in their right mind signs up to be an unpaid accountant for the college? I would prefer to bite my own arms off. Maybe, there is some power kick to be had in controlling several hundred thousand pounds (I’m not talking about St Hugh’s Treasurer). Or maybe it is the promise of being able to perfect your Microsoft Excel skills. No, I don’t think so. I can only explain the JCR Treasurer phenomenon as a monastic dedication to the CV. I am picturing them now, congregated in black robes with shaved heads, chanting Latin psalms, swinging incense and doing quick maths. They are a monastic order solely dedicated to the CV. Celibacy, it seems, is one of their founding principles.

If religion is the opium of the masses, E&M students are so eyeball deep they would put Pete Doherty to shame. They are the strictest disciples of the CV. Yet, judging by Saturday’s Bully night, Stingray, a more appropriate metaphor for the religious trance they are under would be coke. With lectures on how to really lick ass at Goldman, or how to pulverise someone with a handshake, their zeal and devotion to their CV is enough to make one reach for the sick bucket.

Well then, you may well ask, if the CV is a God what does hell look like? Hell came last night, in the form of trying to fill two pages of Microsoft Word, using double space, bold font and a description of what exactly LAMDA Grade seven entails. I have seen Tinder Bios that stand a better chance of getting work experience. But, at the moment I am fine with my atheism; I have not got a twelve week internship at Preston’s Aldi and don’t feel the need to sign up for a JCR committee position. I have resisted conversion and the sticky reach of the Internship Office with its never ending emails. God forbid the day that they start their own text-a-toastie.

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