The Beard of Demosthenes

I have made a choice. As you all realise by now, I don't care for my current lifestyle at all and this discontent will be jarringly driven home next week when I present a paper and lecture based on my research. I really don't want to have to make a Poerpoint slide that says "During the day I played Minesweeper and read the Durham webpages. At night I drank Guiness and wept in the dark".

So that I won't have to lie, I have chosen to go crazy.

From here on out, it's spreadsheets, streamlines, powerpoints, timing cues, references, all the paraphenalia of someone who sacrifices their life for a career. In short, I need to live the life of the City Man for a while.

Do not expect my prescence on the intertron until August the 16th.

Peace.

---

Alternate formulation of this post

Deadlines!

Or anyone, really

I wanna go shopping with Randall Munroe.

It's That Time Of Year Again

Among my own kind

I am shortly to become a Johnie, and am excitied to learn that other old Oxonians and Cantabrians will be joining me in the MCR. Does that make me a racist?

(Also: the graduate tutor at John's is called Julian, so I am now unable to shake the image of Siddig El Fadil. Does that make me a dork?)