December 15, 2003
December 12, 2003
December 3, 2003
December 2, 2003
Whimsy
I love leaving the UL near 5:00 - it’s almost like leaving a real place of
work, only better. Everyone shuffles to the locker room, weary and
stiff-limbed, private worlds of pain reflected in their eyes like their
counterparts in the real world, but then the differences; the agonies of
not knowing whether one has done oneself full justice on a paper on Italian
heroic poetry of the renaissance or fluid dynamics or the wing structure of
the butterfly are writ large on thirty, forty faces, the mounds of esoteric
scholarhsip jammed hurriedly into bag or case to be pored over in warmth
and privacy, coat and scarf are donned as armour against the chill, biting
Siberian winds, no-one speaking, just eager to get home and put a day of
note-taking, transcribing and hunting down the final piece of conclusive
evidence only to discover that MacIntyre on virtue ethics has already been
checked out by some bastard undergraduate writing some irrelevant guff for
paper 8(b). Truly, the marvellous, terrible spectacle of human life is here
in microcosm, a diorama of the majesty of existence viewed up close with
awe and trembling.
Ant