Gay Nazi Sex Vicar in Schoolgirl Knickers Vice Disco Lawnmower Shock!
« French letterI have a competitor »

Campus insecurity

  Sun 9th June 2024

The bloke I mentioned in the last post, whom I consider to be my intellectual and social inferior -- I mean in the sense of lacking a social adroitness that I can put on when useful -- got the job. Perhaps he has talents he reveals exclusively in job interviews.

My dejection was exacerbated by a post-weekend chemical comedown. I wrote a carefully-worded email to my interviewers and to our HR person, asking them to make an exception from the standard company policy of not giving feedback to rejected candidates, given that this is the fourth time I've failed at the final hurdle.

A few days later I was told that I'd passed the first stage of the selection process for a job in Trina's home town, almost as if someone was feeling guilty about turning me down a couple of weeks ago.

I must now proceed to a test I've failed before, a sort of shape sorting exercise where you have to mark off a certain shape, plus every occurrence of the one at the beginning of each line. The deadline to take it is Wednesday; I've paid a tenner for some practice tests to try to get up to standard. Some of my inaccuracy comes from gripping the mouse too hard through nerves, causing a tremor in my hand.

As ever, I haven't thought this through. Where to live: I enjoy a priceless secure social tenancy here, and I'm not sure what the rules are about transferring it elsewhere, even if a flat were to become available at the right time. What to say to Mel: it's a three-hour train journey from here, so feasible, at the price of killing any spontaneity. And other difficult topics.


To Newcastle, to see our semi-adopted daughter's graduate art show.

A couple of days prior to our arrival, there had been a violent disruption on the campus as the police and "security" waded in to a protest against the actions of Israel in Gaza. The very "security" who were filmed manhandling protesters, now controlled access to the art department.

We were told that we would have to be escorted around the galleries by security guards, but the Head of School, having to negotiate access to his own department, persuaded them that he could accompany us instead. After a few minutes' of tense diplomacy, we were all allowed in. As soon as we were out of sight of the goons, the Head of School let us wander around unaccompanied. It felt sinister, the university's autonomy erased in a bullies' coup.


I had to change trains at Darlington, where a mock-up of the new concourse suggests that they are expecting to welcome a levitating man laughing at a passenger who's unknowingly shat his kecks.

4 comments »

4 comments

Comment from: 63mago [Visitor]

The head of school - seriously ?! The head honcho himself had to discuss with the security people about access to his own school ? Stark.

Darlington seems to be a magic place.

Sun 9th June 2024 @ 05:21 Reply to this comment
Comment from: [Member]

Yes. Shut out of the department he leads.He was very forebearing towards the security personnel, who were loving their few days of power. I thought the whole situation was outrageous.

And I didn’t realise Darlington was so uplifting!

Comment from: Scarlet [Visitor]

Thank you for the laugh out loud in response to your comments on the mock up of the new concourse!!!
Sx

Mon 10th June 2024 @ 04:31 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

How not to use CGI :)

Tue 18th June 2024 @ 04:51 Reply to this comment


Form is loading...

looby, n.; pl. loobies. A lout; an awkward, stupid, clownish person


M / 60 / Bristol, "the most beautiful, interesting and distinguished city in England" -- John Betjeman [1961, source eludes me].

"Looby is a left-wing intellectual who is obsessed with a) women's clothes and b) tits." -- Joy of Bex.

WLTM literate woman, 40-65. Must have nice tits, a PhD, and an mdma factory in the shed, although the first on its own will do in the short term.


There are plenty of bastards who drink moderately. Of course, I don't consider them to be people. They are not our comrades.
Sergei Korovin, quoted in Pavel Krusanov, The Blue Book of the Alcoholic

I am here to change my life. I am here to force myself to change my life.
Chinese man I met during Freshers Week at Lancaster University, 2008

The more democratised art becomes, the more we recognise in it our own mediocrity.
James Meek

Tell me, why is it that even when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a beautiful evening, or a conversation in agreeable company, it all seems no more than a hint of some infinite felicity existing apart somewhere, rather than actual happiness – such, I mean, as we ourselves can really possess?
Turgenev, Fathers and Sons

I hate the iPod; I hate the idea that music is such a personal thing that you can just stick some earplugs in your ears and have an experience with music. Music is a social phenomenon.
Jeremy Wagner

La vie poetique has its pleasures, and readings--ideally a long way from home--are one of them. I can pretend to be George Szirtes.
George Szirtes

Using words well is a social virtue. Use 'fortuitous' once more to mean 'fortunate' and you move an English word another step towards the dustbin. If your mistake took hold, no-one who valued clarity would be able to use the word again.
John Whale

One good thing about being a Marxist is that you don't have to pretend to like work.
Terry Eagleton, What Is A Novel?, Lancaster University, 1 Feb 2010

The working man is a fucking loser.
Mick, The Golden Lion, Lancaster, 21 Mar 2011

The Comfort of Strangers

23.1.16: Big clearout of the defunct and dormant and dull
16.1.19: Further pruning

If your comment box looks like this, I'm afraid I sometimes can't be bothered with all that palarver just to leave a comment.

63 mago
Another Angry Voice
the asshat lounge
Clutter From The Gutter
Crinklybee
Eryl Shields Ink
Exile on Pain Street
Fat Man On A Keyboard
gairnet provides: press of blll defunct, but retained for its quality
George Szirtes ditto
Infomaniac [NSFW]
The Joy of Bex
Laudator Temporis Acti
Leeds's Singing Organ-Grinder
The Most Difficult Thing Ever
Quillette
Strange Flowers
Trailer Park Refugee
Wonky Words

"Just sit still and listen" - woman to teenage girl at Elliott Carter weekend, London 2006

5:4
Bristol New Music
Desiring Progress Collection of links only
NewMusicBox
The Rambler
Resonance FM
Sequenza 21
Sound and Music
Talking Musicology defunct, but retained


  XML Feeds

Responsive CMS
 

©2024 by looby. Don't steal anything or you'll have a 9st arts graduate to deal with.

Contact | Help | b2evo skin by Asevo | b2evo