The subject emerged from his room shortly after nine, showered, and left Wadham College through the back gate. He walked along Saville Road to Jowett Walk, turned left onto St. Cross Road, and then turned right onto Manor Road – approaching the Social Sciences Building from the south. After greeting some fellow students, he chose a station near the middle of the information technology room, where he remained for the duration of the two-hour workshop. He was not attentive, spending the time completing the bulk of the first assignment rather than following the printed instructions. He also spent time responding to emails and reading blog entries. When the class ended, he walked northward along St. Cross road, accompanied by two colleagues, and passed through the University Parks before separating from them and walking southward down Parks Road to Wadham College. At no point was contact with the subject lost.
Skip to content
climate change activist and science communicator; event photographer; amateur mapmaker — advocate for a stable global climate, reduced nuclear weapon risks, and safe human-AI interaction
“The liar at any rate recognizes that recreation, not instruction, is the aim of conversation, and is a far more civilized being than the blockhead who loudly expresses his disbelief in a story which is told simply for the amusement of the company.”
Oscar Wilde
if you can expidite yourself from your studies and get to London, I suggest an afternoon at the Theatre..go see The Producers. The Dancing girls with trays of Bratwurst in Swastika formation are surprisingly entertaining. :)
funnyface2
@LC
I will certainly keep it in mind. I would rather see something theatric, but a bit smaller scale. Something along the lines of Arcadia at the Freddy Wood last year, or Portia My Love.
I am listening to “Icicle” now. It is quite eery.
(Aside to SW: I really should have tried talking to Anna Cummer after the show.)
Somewhere in the world there was a young woman with such splendid understanding that she’d see him entire, like a poem or story, and find his words so valuable after all that when he confessed his apprehensions she would explain why they were in fact the very things that made him precious to her . . . and to Western Civilization!