January 14, 2009
Protean
No, the colouring is not significant.
WT3, like its immediate predecessor, is styled on a per-entry basis. I expect there to be a range of looks as we proceed -- though probably not that much change in layout -- and definitely no kind of system. Rest assured, this place will be grey again soon with just as little meaning.
Despite the generally dismal global prospects to which I alluded in the previous post, life locally is not bad at all. 2009 may be a bag of shite for nearly everyone, but by all but the most panderous standards I am sitting pretty. True, some actual results would be nice. And some sexual gratification. And less-white hair and a body of chiselled perfection. But these are trivial complaints in the grand scheme of things, and what sort of churl would I be to carp so?
Of course, whereas conflict builds character and the uniqueness of familial unhappiness drives great literature, contentment and adequacy do not make for a good blog. Should I therefore seek out misery and anguish to have something to write about on these pages?
Um. Possibly.
But in the meantime, let me drop a few breadcrumbs for my future desperate and impassioned self, as reminders of the useless bourgeois existence in which he once temporarily wallowed. Markers of this time and place.
Old beau Matthew is back in town, bravely attempting escape from the inertia of long years of rural recuperation. He seems to be doing OK so far; fingers crossed. I'm statisticking this week, a CoMPLEX course whose start was delayed by fog at Heathrow. Nice to see HF return; now we just need Stairs to scrape an entry in the few remaining days before his "one entry per year" target gets met. At home, gripped by some undiagnosed New Year fever, we have done a purge of the wardrobes and chest of drawers to produce a terrifying quantity of jumble that now waits accusingly for transport to the charity shop. My transfer report is still not finished, but instead of working on its Discussion & Future Work, here I am blogging ephemera, which must in some way mean that WT actually is back -- and now that I am over this post, I still won't do anything in that direction, but instead polish off the last of Ben Goldacre's hugely entertaining and dismally depressing Bad Science.
Don't let the bedbugs bite.
Posted by matt at January 14, 2009 10:50 PM