Church bells

I am, honestly, sorry to anyone who's been faithfully checking this silly blog in the hopes I've written something new. My supervisors have said the U word - "upgrade" - and so I'm working full tilt on proving myself a viable academic.

But tonight I'm sitting up in the departmental work room, and I can see the west face of the Minster all lit up through the window. A few minutes ago, the bells tolled the hours.

England is a frustrating, silly place sometimes. But I love it here and when I leave, I'll miss the church bells.


P.S. No luck at SSHRC this year.

The Miracles of Thomas Becket

I think this one takes the cake. (Sadly, I have only a summary, since I can't afford the requisite trip to Canterbury just now.)

Between the coffin lid and the roof of the tomb was a space of about a foot, and once a poor fat madman somehow squeezed himself through and lay down on the coffin. The monks thought they would have to smash the whole thing to remove him, but miraculously he squeezed himself out.

You Must Be This Thin [--] To Touch The Relics.

No Fat Madmen Allowed.

Only People 10 Stone Or Less May Cross This Line.

Please Do Not Put Yourself Into The Tomb.

If You Fall In/Down, Please Be Advised That Help Cannot Be Provided. Sincerely, Mgmt.

Be Advised: If You Damage The Tomb And St Becket Repairs It Miraculously, You Will Be Charged 1d. For Inappropriate Use of Saintly Powers.

Irony's Edge

It is one of the great ironies of academic life that the work you think is fantastic will be poorly received, and the work you think is dull and unimaginative will be seized upon as interesting and worthy of note. Every student on the planet remembers the essays they thought was a sure A+ being returned covered in red ink, or the half-assed piece of shit they tossed off 4 hours before the deadline coming back with WOW!!! scrawled across the top. It's as frustrating as anything, but in the end, at least it's predictable.