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Warning - contains concealed language
Whilst I seem to be blocked on getting the article finished - and have developed a worrying habit of staying up until 3am when the idea is to get early night - I have at least written tomorrow's lecture (and tidied up the other two for tomorrow yesterday). I have also put together a paper for Saturday - and I realise now that I have no idea how long a PowerPoint should be for a twenty minute paper. An hour-long lecture clocks in at about 18 screens, of varying words, but a) my timing is off right now and b) I often go off on one. Ten screens sounds too much - but I figure I'll be going fast. Or I can just use the screens as my notes and not show them.
It strikes me that I haven't looked at the schedule as to when I am delivering.
It also strikes me that I should have had the balls to call the paper Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits - but it would have been on my cv a long time. On the other hand, it would also have been on the annual research report.
And at some point soon I need to watch the rest of Solaris and all of the Soderbergh version, and ideally Stalker - again with a twenty minute presentation. That's a paper on ... 17th. And I need to also write one for about the 28th. Do I need to reread all of Dhalgren for then? I fear I do. For a twenty minute presentation. It would appear that a viewing of The Man Who Fell To Earth was premature in the list of priorities, as indeed was getting books on him out of the library.
Much amusement caused tonight by ITV in the south-east cutting to a commercial break about 28 minutes into extra time of some football match or other. Amusingly that was when the one goal of the match occurred. I presume someone has a P45 now.
Two potentially life-changing events next week - well, one of them may well not amount to anything after all, and I will pass over it for now, but as to the other:
Once more I am told about the stand-offishness of a creature, only to have them happily sit alongside or on me. What can I say? I am a pussy magnet. Some people have it, others, not.
Not the best of photos, but the light was low, as were the batteries, and probably on the cloudy setting - but more will follow, inevitably, come Monday.
Whilst I seem to be blocked on getting the article finished - and have developed a worrying habit of staying up until 3am when the idea is to get early night - I have at least written tomorrow's lecture (and tidied up the other two for tomorrow yesterday). I have also put together a paper for Saturday - and I realise now that I have no idea how long a PowerPoint should be for a twenty minute paper. An hour-long lecture clocks in at about 18 screens, of varying words, but a) my timing is off right now and b) I often go off on one. Ten screens sounds too much - but I figure I'll be going fast. Or I can just use the screens as my notes and not show them.
It strikes me that I haven't looked at the schedule as to when I am delivering.
It also strikes me that I should have had the balls to call the paper Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits - but it would have been on my cv a long time. On the other hand, it would also have been on the annual research report.
And at some point soon I need to watch the rest of Solaris and all of the Soderbergh version, and ideally Stalker - again with a twenty minute presentation. That's a paper on ... 17th. And I need to also write one for about the 28th. Do I need to reread all of Dhalgren for then? I fear I do. For a twenty minute presentation. It would appear that a viewing of The Man Who Fell To Earth was premature in the list of priorities, as indeed was getting books on him out of the library.
Much amusement caused tonight by ITV in the south-east cutting to a commercial break about 28 minutes into extra time of some football match or other. Amusingly that was when the one goal of the match occurred. I presume someone has a P45 now.
Two potentially life-changing events next week - well, one of them may well not amount to anything after all, and I will pass over it for now, but as to the other:
Once more I am told about the stand-offishness of a creature, only to have them happily sit alongside or on me. What can I say? I am a pussy magnet. Some people have it, others, not.
Not the best of photos, but the light was low, as were the batteries, and probably on the cloudy setting - but more will follow, inevitably, come Monday.
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