In het kader van "ils sont fou, les anglais"
Yesterday's Guardian featured a one-and-a-half page In Memoriam for an exceptional racing horse, plus a two-page 'centrefold' picture of the horse in question. Requiescat in Pace Best Mate, that was his name.

Furthermore
Yesterday I worked a bit on the student-teacher relation/networking field by joining the big men for dinner at a curry place, which was nice. Mind you, I wasn't the only student. It was esp. interesting to see academic politics at work; we had a speaker from Saint Andrew's in Scotland, and one of the visiting profs (a young man from Manchester Uni.) who followed us to the restaurant was quite obviously working on getting a job either there or at UCL by, indeed, networking: getting himself known amongst the elders who might later decide upon his appointment. And as the big men were too engaged in their own carribeanist conversations, he spoke frankly with us, the students, about this. As Foucault already argued (he was reading this week), power is everywhere, politics is everywhere, no escaping it!

on another note: in the five minutes it just took me to get home from uni it poured rain .... grumble ... grumble ... And there's noisy noises coming from the grave yard ever since hallow-e'en ...
BUT: next week's reading week: a holiday they instated here so all the stressed students get an opportunity to catch up the reading that throughout the semester goes at an incredible pace.