Last night I was out and about (ok, I was coming home from the pub); it was a crystal clear night, and the stars were out. looking due east, about 45 degrees from the horizon, I saw a point of light. It was bright – too bright to be a star, I reckon. I think it was a planet, but the question is, which?

The closest to earth are venus and mars, so it was one of these two. Using my weird form of logic, I think it was the latter: the sun had just set in the west, and I was looking east. Thus I was looking towards the outer solar system, so I must have been looking at mars. Of course, this is probably totally wrong – maybe it was just a bit of dirt on my glasses – but nothing quite so captures the human imagination than the thought of glimpsing another world.

yesterday I received the following. It made me smile, and I’m still smiling this morning.

[quote=”Michael Palinurl:www.palinstravels.co.uk”]Feet Beginning To Itch Again. A new message from Michael.

Rumours are already out concerning a new travel series. Although we’re in only preparatory stages of early preparation which, if successful, could lead to full-time preparations for the preparation of a series, I’d hate to think you have to rely on the Daily Express for news of my travel plans, so here goes.

The BBC are very keen to do another series. The crew, though ageing rapidly (some of them are almost as old as me) are very keen to do another series, and my only reservation was the that the success of Himalaya made it a hard act to follow, and there’s no point doing another series unless your heart is really in it. Whatever they say, it’s mind first and body second on these big projects.

We’ve come up with the possible – and I repeat possible as no definite decisions have been taken yet – idea of a journey through the New Europe. Those countries to the east that are part of our continent and yet about which we know very little. If our early researches prove fruitful we’d aim to set off on the road again sometime next year and to produce a book and a series for the Autumn of 2007. Watch this space !

Recently I had plans to travel with Basil Pao to China and Tibet, purely as a holiday and to accompany Bas who is taking photographs in preparation for his upcoming book on China. Those who might have read the account of my trip in the Times travel section on October 15th will know that some bronchial curse laid me low before leaving. I did get to see the Great Wall for the first time, and the Forbidden City and the grasslands of Manchuria – oh and the giant pandas at Chengdu but was prevented from revisiting the magnificent Tibetan plateau on the orders of a Beijing doctor. Tibet, dusty and 4,500 metres above sea level, is probably the worst place in the world to recover from a persistent cough. A bit like going to Barbados to recover from sunburn.

So I returned home and, apart from a great 4-day visit to user-friendly Barcelona, I’ve remained happily home-bound, editing the first volume of my diaries for publication next autumn. With luck I shall be in the middle of a Slovakian forest when they’re published, and out of range of any lawsuits !

One final thing. The problems of those affected by the Pakistan earthquake are actually increasing as winter makes movement from the remote mountain areas almost impossible. Help is still needed and yet the response has been far less than that for the tsunami. These are great, tough people who would not ask for charity, but many of whom will die without it. So, if like me, you feel a bond between yourself and the people of the Pakistan Himalaya, give now and, if you’ve already given, give again.

[/quote]

It’s getting ridiculous! Would you believe I just spent £1.50 on a cheeseburger. A mangy cheeseburger at that, devoid of relish, lettuce or ketchup. Here at MMU students eat at the canteen using pre-paid ‘meal cards’, upon which they get around £30 a week. However, this figure hasn’t gone up, but the prices have, meaning we all eat less. Now, food in the wes isn’t bad: I grew up with mum’s food, so I know what good food should taste like. Wes food isn’t the best, but nor is it the dire pulp we were dished up at hebden green. Having said that, it’s not worth the prices they are currently charging. I am therefore not a happy cripple, nor is most of the student body (although they aren’t cripples). The pizzeria around the corner is probably profiting from this though.

along with a dangerous experiment involving chair spinning, I was sent the following by mum, who incidently sined herself off as M, furthering my suspicion that dad’s a double-o agent.

”

A Russian couple was walking down the street in Moscow one night, when the man felt a drop hit his nose. “I think it’s raining”, he said to his wife. “No, that felt more like snow to me”, she replied. “No, I’m sure it was just rain, he said”. Well, as these things go, they were about to have a major argument about whether it was raining or snowing. Just then they saw a minor communist party official walking toward them. “Let’s not fight about it”, the man said, “Let’s ask Comrade Rudolph whether it’s officially raining or snowing”. As the official approached, the man said, “Tell us, Comrade Rudolph, is it officially raining or snowing?”. “It’s raining, of course”, he replied, and walked on. But the woman insisted: “I know that felt like snow!”, to which the man quietly replied: ”Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear”!

I just tried the ouch disability sex thing, to be found here. This is what it said about me.

[quote=”ouch”]You have some clue and are approaching the whole shagging game with enthusiasm, but you need to increase your sexual knowledge as well as your confidence in your shagability. Try reading the Kama Sutra, soak up the essence of it and don’t get too hung up about the fact that you might end up in hospital if you attempt some of the sexual positions depicted.[/quote] ha! chance would be a fine thing!

Its been a long day. It was going well until four, when my last seminar finished. I have my lessons in Crewe on Monday, and get a taxi to Crewe in the morning and the mmu bus back to alsager. However, the public transport busses are currently on strike, so the university busses have their work cut out ferrying students between campuses. And guess who was forgotten in this hubbub?

We – that is, myself and Esther – must have waited half an hour in the cold. I was starting to shiver, so we went back to the canteen, where est said I should have a warm drink. We waited until five, when we ‘phoned Bill. Quite what I would have done without bill tonight I do not know: he was there in twenty minutes, saying that he’d asked the kitchen to save me some dinner and was lamb Rogan josh ok? It was, and by six I was tucking into it with a huge slab of crusty, fresh, delicious bread. I could really hug bill – never was I so pleased to see his jeep!

To all those who proclaim childhood reading dead, I would say click this link. Rowling has re-invigorated kids literature, forging a phenomenon which appeals to children and adults alike. It was being discussed around our dinner table this weekend. At whatever level it is read upon, potter is a great, great story – not literary greatness, in a classical sense, but in the sense that it has characters and themes we can all relate to. Sadly, there are no cripples though.

As usual, I’m home again for the weekend. Muucch to their frustration, mum and dad can’t get rid of me. (i’m joking guys). For once, my brothers are here too, so the place is full of nonsequeteurs and rainman quotes, which have merged to random cries of ‘definitely not a hundred dollars.’ yes, I kknow, ‘what?!’

anyway, I love this house – I was born here – but it just did a strange thing to me. I was about to cclimb the stairs, and noticed the thermostat on the wall. I could read it clearly: 21 degrees celsius. ‘odd’, I thought, ‘I remember that was higher up the wall, well out of my reach.’ Thats the problem about growing up in a house you love – the sword cuts two ways: it’s how you remember, but you cannot recapture the time you had.

Nevertheless, piano music is oncce again being played throughoutt the house; mum is in the kitchen,; luke is being luke, dad is…soomewhere about. Time to go join them

I’ve had a busy day. On Tuesday my friends reminded me I had an essay due In December, so I thought I might as well start it. The word limit’s 2k, and, after getting 400 of them down yesterday, I have 1787 words. The remaining 200 I’ll get down later or, more likely, tomorrow morning.

I was in the library after lunch. I needed material to quote from. I noticed the row of PHD thesis they keep there, and decided to ask to see one. This was not a random whim – I wanted to see how easy it was to look at a PHD thesis: there has been some debate over the thesis of Kent Hovind – an extremely vocal creationist. He has proclaimed himself doctor, but when one fellow investigated, this thesis was very hard to get hold of. link.

Anyway, without hesitating, the librarian got a leather-bound thesis off the shelf. It had a slip saying it wasn’t to be taken from the library, but otherwise it war free to peruse. What is ‘Dr. Dino’ hiding.

my chair has needed a wash for a while. much to dad’s chagrin, I take it onto the football pitch – how else do I speak to bil when he’s coaching the team? It thus got verry muddy, especially it’s undercarrage.

I told my p.a we needed to clean it sometime this week. I do not think she relished the idea, although I thought it might be fun. either way, we were provaricating about itt.

We were returning from the library this afternoon after going there to do some photocopying after lunch. When we noticed a couple of workmen washing off the university van outside the flat there is a small appliance shed where they store stuff like hoses. This gave us an idea, as I was in my chair at the time, I rode up to them and asked very politely if they wouldn’t mind washing the F55 down. They happily abliged and right now the chair is in the hall off the flat, drying off.

I was very amused yesterday to read of the proceedings in the dover trial. This is the trial over whether intelligent design is science, and thus should be taught

in schools, or mere creationism. I read of how Michael Behe took the stand for the defence, and how he was demolished. He himself disproved his own theory of irreducible complexity by showing it’s sheer preposterousness.

[quote=”http://www.stcynic.com/blog/archives/2005/10/behe_disproves_irreducible_com.phpurl:http://www.stcynic.com/blog/archives/2005/10/behe_disproves_irredu ” the core of Behe’s entire argument for ID is that irreducibly complex systems cannot evolve. Yet what does he admit under oath that his own study actually says? It says that IF you assume a population of bacteria on the entire earth that is 7 orders of magnitude less than the number of bacteria in a single ton of soil…and IF you assume that it undergoes only point mutations…and IF you rule out recombination, transposition, insertion/deletion, frame shift mutations and all of the other documented sources of mutation and genetic variation…and IF you assume that none of the intermediate steps would serve any function that might help them be preserved…THEN it would take 20,000 years (or 1/195,000th of the time bacteria have been on the earth) for a new complex trait requiring multiple interacting mutations – the very definition of an irreducibly complex system according to Behe – to develop and be fixed in a population.”[/quote]

*chuckle*

Might this week have signalled the beginning of the collapse of the bush administration? I doubt it, but the indictment of lewis libby is surely a sign of weakness. confirmation that they weren’t completely honest about the iraqi war.

Link.

well, what did we expect. where are the wmd for one thing? it’s just deeply worrying that the leader of the most powerful nation on earth is a buffoon, and that a large proportion of americans actually still believe what he says. this vitriolic ‘america against the world’ attitude the neocons have is scary, and its hard for me not to condemn them all as idiots.

however, the moment I do so, I become as them.

flaneurs are cool. they’re people after my own heart. they were men who, independently wealthy and seemingly having nothing better to do, strolled around cities in the early part of the nineteenth century, observing life, writing and ‘botanising on the asphalt’. Thats all they did. they strolled here and there, observing a culture. writers like walter benjamin haave suggested they symbolise the advent of modernity.

advent of absinth more like

smoking is due to be banned in pubs, it was announced today. i greeted thhis news with a big ‘hurrah’. hopefully i can now enjoy a pub meal without having to imbibe someone else’s 2nd hand smoke. link.

The final score today, incidentally, was alsager 3, loughborogh 4. after being down 4-0 at half time, i think this constitutes a moral victory for mmu alsager.

There is an old Goodsell family tradition, which probably descends from m mum’s side, of drinking tea in the afternoons. This usually occurs between three and four on Saturdays and Sundays, and is often accompanied by chocolate. Mum would call us down from playing in our rooms on Saturday afternoons, inaugurating a trice in our game of war of the rooms (no doubt mark and Luke remember this), ad we would have tea as the rain lashed against the window.

Well, this afternoon the skies opened. My lecture in Crewe was decidedly uninspiring – the promised Howard hawkes film not running due to technical problems and the football team, when last I heard at a damp, miserable pitch side, was loosing four nil. It belted it down. At one point, the thought of tea hit me: tea, that warm, sweet infusion that so typifies all that is good about England; tea, relic of that long dead empire; tea, the taste of sitting in the kitchen in Hampshire close, talking to mum. I drove from the pitch to the wes, and ordered a cuppa. I drank it while talking to mark, my neighbour, and Esther, and all he problems of a miserable day were lifted. There is nothing like chatting to friends over a good brew.

what is this bollox? the u.s senate has re-accused galloway of being in cahoots with hussain. now, I don’t have much time for george galloway myself, but just because he was very vocal against the war doesn’t mean he was bedfellows with hussain. To say this is a gross oversimplification of the facts, and another example of the childlike behaviour of the current u.s government.

Ever since watching star trek as a child, I have dreamt of going into space. I honestly believe it is mankind’s destiny – if, indeed, such a thing exists – to explore the stars, as people once explored the oceans. James Cook once wrote in his log, that his mission was ‘To go further than any man had been before.’ That, I believe, is the raisin d’etre of humanity.

I think Richard Branson believes that too. He has joined forces with an American company to form virgin galactic, which will start launching suborbital passenger flights in 2007. these will take 6 or 7 people – enormously wealthy people, I might add – 100 kilometres up above the earth. From here, one can behold our home planet in her entirety. Just think, guys, what a view that would be!

Hut where will this end? Holidays on the moon? Bush is planning a manned mission to mars. Thence where? Perhaps soon, we will be able to fold space and travel faster than light. Then, surely, the real fun will begin.

Yesterday I was in stoke on car-related business, which gave me chance to go to the cinema, something which I should do more often. The film which struck me most was Roman Polanski’s Oliver, why should such an auteur do a kid’s movie?

The answer is that Oliver wasn’t a kid’s movie: parts of it were dark and brooding. There’s no overt violence, just suggested violence, which is worse. Jamie foreman made a fearsome bill Sykes – dark, brooding and more than a little psychotic. This is Charles Dickens’ tale as it was intended to be, stripped of the songs and dodgy cockney accents. Polanski again proves himself to be a master – there are some simply breathtaking shots in this film.

Speaking of which, has anyone noticed how so many forthcoming Hollywood movies are adaptations of British books? Yesterday I saw a trailer for The Loin, The Witch and the wardrobe, as well as goblet of fire. I really think we’re in for a treat with both of these films. The latter is a continuation of the potter series, which seems to be becoming darker and darker with every film; the former, I suspect, is Disney’s answer to The Lord of the Rings, (which was made by New line, an offshoot of Warner, who also make Potter). It was only a matter of time before the Disney corp. responded with something similar.

From what little I saw, they are very similar: the same grandiose mise-en-scene employed in Lotr is employed in TLTWATW. Both were filmed in new Zealand. The irony is, the authors of both books were good friends, and drank in the same Oxford pub. I only hope Adamson is as faithful to CS Lewis as Jackson was to Tolkien.

I honestly think life today rules. Life at university I mean. It’s how I imagine normality to be. I’m half considering becoming a poster child for university!

On Monday night my friend Steve invited me to his place, to watch movies and chat. Yesterday, bill drove me round after tea: we had decided to meet at The Woodlands, and we waited outside that pub for about five minutes until stev showed up to guide us to their place.

This was a typical student place – a mess, with posters everywhere. Sort of grimey. I went in, and had quite a good evening just talking and watching films. I selected ‘You only live twice’ from their collection – I have a soft spot for bond – and we watched that. Quite a cool film. Did you notice, when they try to turn bond Japanese, he looks a bit like a Vulcan?

We then watched ‘Dude where’s my car?’ I have seen it before, and it still strikes me as inane, but funny.

So, just a typical, student evening. My mates were really great, and I’m trying to think of ways of returning the favour,

this is reasonably welcome news. I think stem cell research is vital, but my one nagging concern was the issue of killing a life to save another (ok, an oversimplification there, but you get my meaning). now science has seemingly bypassed the problem. great stuff!

it has come to my attention how bad television has become these days. I might just be getting old, or more conservative (god forbid) but I’m starting to agree with John Humphries. He once argued that reality TV was innately bad for you, and TV was getting worse. Although his argument was flawed in some respects, he was correct on a few counts.

Last night I was watching TV with my parents and brothers. We were watching Pop Idol on ITV, as my mum likes it for some reason. Frankly, I was struck by how manipulative the programme is: its designed to achieve maximum conflict. That is to say, since viewers like to watch people argue, its edited to highlight the arguments and the friction between the judges. Thus, what can be shown in 30 minutes is extended to be shown in 120, packed with adverts, highlights, replays…

Humphries cites what he calls the ‘Blue planet defence’. That is to say, there are certain programmes – The life of Mammals, A history of Britain, Himalaya etc which one can argue make television worthwhile. But, due to their nature, these are few and far between. It is cheaper to throw together something like Big brother than forge a David Attenborough documentary series. While sir David is infinitely more interesting than a bunch of halfwits in a house, big brother will get more viewers because it appeals to the lowest common denominator.

I’m not sure why. The British public seem to like watching this kind of pap, like being told what to think, who to like and who to hate. We will sit passively down to an episode of a soap opera without an inkling that what is going on before us is a melodrama designed to re-enforce the status quo. We sit down to feature films, barely aware of the complex socio-political mechanisms involved. The very mise-en-scene is designed to reinforce these messages, but I digress.

My point is we are better than this. We are better than being entertained by watching a few people sing discordantly. If you like singing, turn ff the TV and go to the bar, or indeed the Opera! By all means watch TV, but watch it critically. Watch documentaries, then hit the books. T.V can be so wonderful, as it has the potential to inspire, but its doing that less and less these days. Alas.

A most welcome piece of mail greeted me upon my arrival home tonight: the onevoice newsletter arrived. It was gratifying to see my article published in it. It always pleases me to see my writing published, as is the case with any writer, but what frankly pleased me more is that it reminded me why I wrote it in the first place: the feeling I had made a difference on the 1voice weekend.

My parents read it too. they now wholeheartedly approve of 11voice. Maverick that I try to be, its still nice to know I have mum and dad behind me on this.

Its great to be reminded of such things, in the depths off autumn: happy days. And I still remember beth’s smile.

http://www.1voice.info

This fascinating guardian article was sent to me by my big bro, Mark.. It’s a good read, on how religiosity may have a genetic basis. I suspected as much, to be honest, given that a. religious belief would increase a social group’s cohesion (as it had to in the early Massachusetts settlement of Salem) and b. I notice that religious parent often, but not always, have religious children, although this maybe due to environmental factors. my one niggle is that wilson rarely includes references.

all together now

[Chorus:]

That, that dude looks like a lady

That, that dude looks like a lady

That, that dude looks like a lady

That, that dude looks like a lady

Cruise into a bar on hte shore

Her picture graced the grime on the door

She’s a long lost love at first bite

Baby maybe you’re wrong but you know it’s all right

That’s right

That, that

That, that

Backstage we’re havin’ the time of our live until somebody say

Forgive me if I seem out of line

Then she whipped out her gun and tried to blow me away!

[Chorus]

Never judge a book by it’s cover or who you gonna love by your lover

Sayin’ love put me wise to her love in disguise

She had the body of a Venus, Lord imagine my surprise.

[Chorus]

So baby let me follow you down (let me take a peek dear)

Baby let me follow you down (do me, do me, do me all night)

Baby let me follow you down (turn the other cheek dear)

Baby let me follow you down (do me, do me, do me, do me)

Oo, what a funky lady

Oo, she like it, like it, like it, like that.

Oo he was a lady!

[Chorus]

Going o the barber is my least favourite activity. I need my head holding still, as for some reason every time I need to concentrate on holding my head still it wobbles even more. Dad has observed this when he tries to shave me, much to his chagrin. I therefore have to have someone physically hold my head. In the past, this has always been a family member, usually Luke or mum. Now I’m at university, time with my parents or brothers is limited, and, as my hair grew, it was becoming increasingly obvious that I was going to have to ask my p.a to take me to the barber.

Now, I have two totally ambivalent feelings about my hair. One says it would be cool to see what it is like long for a change, and maybe do something with it perhaps pigtails. It could not be worse than Luke’s current hair cut, which looks like the magnetic stripes on the sea bed. Another part of me says hair is a total waste off time, an not worth bothering with. This part insists I get it cut, and, as it coincided with the feelings of my parents, that’s what I did.

I must admit, I tried to take short a short cut last week by getting a friend (whose name I cannot divulge) to cut the fringe. This was a mistake, as, according to Luke, the results looked like Dwain Dibley. So, as we needed to take the car for petrol, after writing today we went too find a barber.

It was nearing the end of the day, and the barber’s shop was quiet. There was only one other gentleman to wait for, and a short flick through a men’s magazine later, it was my turn. Quite what he thought as I approached the chair I don’t know, but he seemed like a nice enough chap.

‘take it to half it’s length’ I said, not daring to have it cut any shorter simply through fear of blood. My p.a translated and we were off.

I tried keeping my head still myself at first, but without anything to lodge it against, it was flappier than corn in a gale. I had to ask my p.a to hold it still, something I’d been trying to avoid. I’m not sure too why – like being shaved, it’s different when a family member does it as apposed to a personal assistant. Its rather intimate, as well as an admission of ones limits I suppose.

Anyway, the whole process only took a few minutes, and I paid the guy his requested fiver, and we were en route back home, stippling to get twenty quid of unleaded on the way before having dinner in the Wes. Thus I’m taking small steps towards total independence, and it feels good!

It is very unlikely that he reads my blog, but I need to apologise to mr beckham for my closing remark on my last entry. I was angry at him for getting sent off on Saturday. However, today I heard that one of the beckham’s sons has been having seizures. Although this does not excuse his behaviour, I believe it makes it a little more understandable – a father’s love is a father’s love.

I love cricket, genuinely and with a passion, but I’m not too interested in the current series of the world vs Australia. While I find the sport beautiful, and there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend an afternoon watching it, but I don’t really like the present series. Firstly, its on sky, which I don’t like, and secondly, I have nobody to root for. I’m not Australian, so I cant support them, but the only reason I’d want to support thee rest of the world is because I’d want the Australians to loose – I have no allegiance to the opposing team. I have some Australian friends, and ok, although I was teasing james yesterday by miming Warne’s dropped Pieterson catch, its all in good fun. I kind of like Australians, and do not wish them another defeat. Thus, while I keep one eye on this series, I’m not too fussed about it. I’m looking forward to the tour of the subcontinent, though.

And no fool get sent off n cricket, either, eh, mr bechkham?

this blog entry wonn’t be long. my pc keeps cccrashing. I’m home for the weekend, and my home pc is rather old. itt crashed 6 or 7 times, before I gave up and went to bed to waatch tv. then, ten minutes later, the stupid thing spontaneously loads up. thought I’d beteer do soomething now it’ss running. I just ope itt doesnt keep me up all night.

this story of the fight between an aligator and a python just begs to be posted, if just for the following line ‘The Burmese python tried to swallow its fearsome rival whole but then exploded’ I’ll be laughing for days

There’s a boycott at the bar tonight, so I’m having a night in. as I noted last week, there’s a dispute between the union and the university hierarchy over where the proceeds go. I forgot, so I rolled to the bar to find it empty. The disco was being set up, but there were none off the cheers from the footballers (AAA ZUM A ZUM A ZUM etc) nor the steady stream of scantily clad girls. I waited about half an hour, then remembered Grey’s prophecy of a boycott. Hence I set my sites on a night behind my p.c, chatting to friends, streaming radio 4. showing some solidality with my fellow students beats brandies any day.

As a person with Cypriot relatives, I was kind of brought up thinking that the Turks were bogeymen. My grandfather, I think it fair to say, was very anti-Turk. Despite this, even I can see the obvious logic in welcoming turkey into the EU. Not to do so would make Europe seem like some kind of Christian club, which would only further enrage the Muslim extremists, as it would appear turkey was being denied access to wealth on the basis of religion. This would, furthermore, reduce the whole European project to a talking shop, and it would be increasingly ignored by the other world players – china, India, the u.s. Europe can only survive if its diverse but coherent; not to let turkey join would be pure folly.

I read this earlier. I cant find a full online version, but basically these fundies think penguins would be good models for human society. penguins? They’re insane! I laughed until I almost wept

Cultural elevation is a organisation run by my mate Rob. Every now and then, they organise bashes in the college bar: there was one last night, which I went to having become a member last week. Rob’s vision is an eclectic mix of arts, but at the moment it seems to have a focus on urban art forms like rap and break dance. Thus I saw quite an impressive dance off last night, with the audience standing in a circle, the DJ having selected something with a strong beat, as four or five guys danced in a most extraordinary fashion. That ruled!

However, I am unsure about the ‘elevation’ bit. It raises some interesting questions. It seems to imply a value judgement – to what state does this organisation want to elevate culture to? surely this is subjective. In what way does culture need elevating. What, indeed, is culture?

I love all art. I love film (naturally) music and visuals and so on. I have nothing against a society where people are allowed and encouraged to express themselves. Such an idea is wonderful, but the name just sits uncomfortably in my belly. To be honest it whiffs slightly of evangelist language.

this.mov file was brought to my attention last night. apart from being funny as hell, it’s quite the most brilliant piece of editing i’ve seen. go look.

On Tuesday in my first writing workshop we were introduced to postmodernism. The central concept is, as far as I can gather, that there are no absolutes, since the postmodernists reject the ‘grand narratives’ i.e., religion, science. These are social constructs, transmitted via language which can never be objective since it inherently is imbued with the speakers biases. Thus, what we perceive as real is entirely subjective.

This kind of makes sense to me, but I have problems with it. It seems incompatible with science at first glance, until one remembers that science offers us no absolute truths, only theories which must be tested and may one day be superseded. Even time is relative. Yet science is the search for the truth – or as near as we can get to it. Is it, or is it not,, attainable. Uncertainty says god plays dice, but particle physics is based on maths, which is constant. One plus one must always make two, so postmodernism and science contradict. Do they, or don’t they?

What is fast becoming certain is that I’ll have fun exploring this issue.

According to grey, last night may have been the last disco for a while. The student’s uunion has fallen out with the chaps who put the event on – the latter are too greedy. They make a killing on the bar and the door: must be about 750 ppl attend, each charged 2 quid. None of that money, however, goes backinto the venu, so greys organising something else.

With this in mind, I took my opportunity to dress up. Out camethe bunnygirl outfit. It was, however, blowing a gale out there, and the last time I went outside in winter in a leotard and tights I cought cold. I had learned my lesson, and put my jumper and joggers back on over my outfit so I could disrobe at the bar, hopefully with help from a pretty girl. Me clever!

This plan worked well. I took my manual chair – I never take my electric to the bar: recipe for broken f55 and a seriously peeved dad. I went to join the football social, having the security guy take my clothes off as the party got started, before the main lights went off. I behave myself more when I’m iin those clothes, and try to keep them clean, so I stay sober, which I did.

What else can I say? I didn’t get cold, and one of the footballers redressed me and took m home. Quite a cool night.

I just noticed i can no longer play rock paper scissors on weebles stuff.com. college wont let me download macromedia flash, which is rather tiresome, but not the end of the world.

talking of cartoons, cripcomic was launched yesterday. thusfar, tthere is only one strip, but its interesting stuff. Inasmuch as it subverts the status quo bu having a disabledd person as its main dramatis personae, it can be seen as postmodern. It uses the languag of our subclture (if such a thing exists), and thus can be seen as a statement of pride in dusability. hehehe…academic language rules!

Maybe itts the writer in me, oor the philologist, but it’s surprising how just reading a simple turn of phrase can cheer me up. This morning, I was doing my rounds on the blogs of my friends – luke b’s, Kate’s etc. I came across one which uses some words which have now sadly fallen out of use.

Spiffing’…’good egg’ what wholesome expressions. My friend Will at macc college used to use them. They seem homely, old school.. English, like cricket, or punting. I find the fact that they’re still in use somewhere kind of comforting, especially in today’s world of coarse language and vulgarity. I often hang out with Sports students, where every second word is a vulgarity, and we all know how much swearing there is in film. Of course, I have nothing against swearing, but it seems the old phrases like Good Egg are dying out. The fact that they’re still being used by some people, without sarcasm, is kind of satisfying to me.

I cant explain why.

Today, my uncle, aunt cousin and his Girlfriend, Saran, were here for lunch. Although they visit way too rarely, I’m fond of them. We were talking about religion, and my concern with creationism, and Uncle Aki told us about the time when some mormons visited my bappou. They were showing bappou any yeaya a slideshow, when suddenly bappou said, quietly and slowly, ‘I think this is a heresy.’

You might not understand why this amuses me unless you knew buppou: this quiet, gentle man, who was deeply religious, suddenly saying such a thing. I can’t explain.

If theres one thing about my anthems which troubles me, its that it would have hurt my grandfather.

heres more on yesterdays entry