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Math. Life is a rich tapestry of sloshing problems, grope groups, fields of reals, relations for mapping class group actions and twistor spaces. It is harmonic morphisms, high spots and compact groups. In life one negotiates certain symmetric spaces with weak repulsive singularity, and variational problems with a lack of coercivity. It welcomes outer automorphism groups and offers existence and uniqueness of positive periodic solutions. Groups act on trees, classes are slender, subgroups are optimal and there are strictly increasing fitting ideals. Not only are there renewal systems and exponential attractors but there is also extreme flatness and damped differentials.
Her son was there and he had some stories to tell. It makes for an exhausting exhibition because nothing is actually representative of her work entirely so there’s that much more to see. The watercolour I settled on gives me immense pleasure, I know it always will. The portraits are cluastraphobic, hugely departing from her landscapes, but for all that they are stunning: it's all about Them. The attitude is there, but it's not all about attitude, never a descent into pastiche. Many are readily called to mind. Funny, I wouldn’t know the son again if I fell over him.
‘Yes, I loved the look of it but is it the RIGHT place. We can’t change it once we are there, you know.’
‘Well, yeah, I suppose.’
‘Uh, huh. …yup.’
‘Who was that?’
‘No kidding, already? Let me know what it’s like.’
‘ha ha ha ha ha’
‘ha ha ha ha’
‘really, though, did he?’
‘No, you never told me, I’d remember that certainly’
‘Yeah, why not just print out handbills and post it through everyone’s letterbox. Can you believe it?’
‘Look what are we doing here?’
So I've done the deed. Quit, packed it in, slung me own hook. It's weird springing it on people who really have no idea, and it made me feel bad. I've worked in places where I've been shouted at, stepped on, stepped over, undervalued, unloved, unappreciated, insulted, antagonised and just plain pissed off. But never, never have I been made bored stupid. It's mind numbing, but luckily it’s poorly paid so we ain't missing much. My girl is fed up with the childminder’s kids, my man hates the running around he has to do. The cleaner makes more than me.
Membership of the Society was not recorded in the biographies of the members. It is unlikely that a further trawl through the surviving papers of members will turn up any further trace of the Society. Google, that hallmark of personal, professional and social validation, raises nothing. In correspondence to the secretary of the society it was suggested that a failure of the Society would be a noble failure. Curriculum Vitae do not allow for such as failure, noble or otherwise, and many of the members had what amounted to a good amount of professional success to shore up any wounds.
‘Heresy’ carries extraordinary weight. Conjuring up images of enclaves of religious stalwarts, fully prepared to fight or burn for their beliefs. There is also a significant amount of power in the notion of heresy; that there is an extreme faith at work, a courage of convictions that demands a certain amount of respect. The heretics of our imagination are available to persecution and punishment not for the beliefs they held per se, but for their unwillingness to submit to the orthodox view, to authority. Though it is an altogether far less physically violent affair in contemporary history, medieval connotations persist.
The ‘thrill’ of heresy can be considered as relating to a negotiation of terms and the creation of a new social contract. It is important to note that the heretic is very much a social creature. One cannot operate as a lone or rogue heretic, for where an individual refuses to submit to prevailing beliefs, their ideas might merely be classed as immoral, eccentric or scandalous. Society is generally strong enough and cohesive enough to be peppered with individuals with divergent views. Heresy exists where there is a broad consensus of opinion supporting the rejection of deviation from orthodox views.
On the one hand this high level of essentially voluntary activity suggests an especially social individual. On the other hand spreading oneself thinly leaves little time for convivial engagement and the development of personal relationships. Indeed he was described by his wife as a most ‘unsocial socialist’, by others as aloof and disconnected. What is noteworthy is the variety of organised activity available to the likes of him. And that is not to suggest that he exhausted the options available to him, were he more physically inclined he could easily have added any number of athletic associations to his schedule.
Actually the wedding freaks me out, I hate parties. I’ll smile politely and try and mask the nervous twitch I get in my lip, then I’ll start thinking of Elvis and the twitch will go double-time. What I do for my man. If it were up to me it’d be Vegas, baby. But I've done the low-key wedding once, now it’s the big one. But I will feel hugely responsible if anyone has a bad time. Jesus, as if I didn’t have enough anxiety just getting myself through this shindig. Anyway the wedding is small potatoes, how about the marriage?
Not too close, dear. Back, back a bit. Yes, that’s it. Oh, no, now it’s too high. No, no you’ve come down too much. And over, no left. Okay, wait, stand back, would you a minute? Hmm, what do you think? Really? Oh, I wouldn’t say that at all. Okay, let’s move it to the right, then. Let’s see it. No, no, totally wrong, I knew it. Try moving it down then. Yes, yes. Stand back again. Okay, let’s look at it from the doorway. Nope, not working at all. Take it down, let’s try the other one now, okay?
The smile is beatific. So how could one not enquire into its cause. Apparently this is how it works: he IS still a monogamous person because he was absolutely convinced the marriage was over before he took up with the other one. Really. He will not, cannot, be shifted from this point. Absolution is truly marvellous thing, he’s positively glowing. There was no adultery, no sin, nothing. In a moment of clarity he is delivered. Has delivered himself. Anyone who takes the time to understand all this will see it is the case. Self-absolution. Self-absorbsion. Whatever, seems to suit him.
Well it’s cheap not to, that’s all.
But I don’t want to have it to keep, so why pay all that money?
Well, it just looks cheap, that’s why. Do you want people to think you are cheap?
No. But I also don’t want people to think I’m a sucker. Anyway, why do I care what anyone thinks. I’ll use it once, throw it away. Bish, bash, done.
Okay, but you might want to have one later. It’s a pity not to get it now.
I don’t even need it now. I’lll get it another day, when I need it.
August is too hot for cheese to be left like that, it will get sweaty and rubbery and no one would/should touch it. Clams casino is not for passing around, is it? Don't you scoop it out of the shell to eat it? Surely that can't happen standing up with a glass in one hand. For a third option, and always go with three (it's a magic number), how about mini brushetta with tapenade (2 different ones, sun-dried tomato and green or black olive). That keeps any vegetarians happy, it's light and very pretty to look at. What about sweets?
I liked the B52s because they sang catchy, funny tunes you could dance to. Their lyrics were great, playful and make fantastic pictures in your head when you listen. Lyrics that tell stories or that are very descriptive have marvellous appeal. Not Jethro Tull though or anything like that.
Now this is another kind of rain. Bright rain. Not sunny rain, no chance of a rainbow. Heavier now, and coming down at an angle. Now straight, big heavy drops. Drops big, heavy, like they’re filled with water.
They have a new album but I don’t think I want it.
Get Your Locks Off. Hair Today. Curl Up and Dye. Fresh Roots. Back to Your Roots. Snips. And Cut. Freestyle Hair Salon. Hair Razor. Sanguine Scissors. Soul Scissors. Hair Doctor. Deb ‘n’ Hair. Cuts in Comfort. Beyond The Fringe. Angel Hair. Crowning Glory. Time 2BU. D-zina Hair. Clipworld. Thatch. Hairport. British Hairways. Tangles. Dread Knot. Pure Barberism. Altered States. Crown Couture . Snippets. Nutcutters. Fringe Benefits. Hair I Am. Topknots. Clipso. Headnizm. Hair Candi. Headquarters. Tip Top. Millionhairs. Cutting Edge. All Tressed Up. Hi De Hilites. Chopping Block. Comb One Comb All. Shear Joy. Split Endz. Permutations. Cut and Run.
‘Yes…. Well I don’t know I’m really jammed at the moment, lots going on, tons really.’
‘Yeah, okay, I suppose I could do that much.’
‘Uh-huh. Oh, sure, well as I’m taking the kids anyway, sure I can help out.’
‘Oh, really? No one else, huh?’
‘Well will fifty be alright? I couldn’t manage any more than that.’
‘OK, eighty then. Sure’
‘Well, alright, if they are, put me down for that day, too.’
‘Okay, and will I get reimbursed for all that?’
‘No, no, no that’s fine. More than happy to.
Not at all, thank you for asking. Currently we (and that’s not including the manager’s own filing and storage currently located within her office) fill 7 4-drawer filing cabinets, and 9 3-drawer filing cabinets (which at present we estimate could be reduced by 3). These are in continual use and so truly need to be near at hand, truly. It is not likely that disposal of dead files will make much impact given the increase in submissions, and the ever-growing encroachment of papers for the new publication (even though these tend to make for slimmer files).
I hope this helps.
If I say ‘yes’ then it’s who knows how many consecutive nights of chatter and cheeks aching from smiling. Plus the whole weekend and the Monday. Too much pressure for a loner. Shy, not aloof. But aloof I would surely be (if not worse) if I do say ‘no’. Decisions, decisions. Shy, loner, enjoying one’s own company. What perversity derogates these qualities and esteems the continuous need for social engagement? ‘Yes, I’d love to.’ No, there is nothing to say! There isn’t even time to read the newpaper inbetween and stock up on fresh items to wheel out as conversation.
‘What, so you’re not going to do it any more? Done?’
This was incredible. How would you just stop? As much as it was a great idea, fantastic in theory, in practice how would you make it work? And after all that time, Jeez, what was all that about then?
He looked at her, awed. Brave, certainly it took guts, but then that assumes there was a plan. Otherwise it’s just spontaneous. No, no, can’t admire that. Got to have a plan.
His eyes narrowed, ‘Now what? What’re going to do now?’
‘We’ll see. I’m not worried.’
I would like to thank the anonymous referee for his careful reading of my work and the valuable suggestions he/she made. Based on these suggestions, I propose the following changes:
All signalled misprints and errors have been corrected.
Chapter 3 was made obsolete by the previous changes, and has been deleted.
In order to keep my work as short and self-contained as possible, as recommended by the referee, and to avoid introducing extraneous situations, I have deleted the whole of Chapter 4 onwards.
For clarity, and again as suggested by the referee, the first two chapters have also been deleted.
Hey now that’s a real nice one there. Real nice.
Yeah? Thanks. (head bends a little lower)
Where’d get that?
Oh. (only the eyes look up, then down again). I made it.
Didja now? What’re you, artist or something?
Suppose I am.
Go on. That’s art. It must be. I don’t see a lot of art but, sure, that’s what it is. Huh. An artist. Huh.
If you say so.(left foot strokes the ground)
Come on now don’t be modest. Art, that’s something. Yeah, that’s something awright. Whatdya going do, display it somewhere?
Oh, I don’t know it’s good enough.
The square is painted in four, no, more than that, many many shades of green. The now limited vantage point I enjoy a testimony to the progression of the year into spring. In summer I suppose the windows shall be open, expanding my vista with increased sensory perception. Touching, breathing, smelling, tasting the air. Will it be too noisy, too windy, even poison the lungs? The effects of the exterior on the interior sparks off anxiety. I am turning into a modern Mr Woodhouse, convinced the best place of all is indoors, the world best enjoyed at a comfortable distance.
Mark and Stephen waited with uneven levels of patience – Mark desperate for her to just grab the sticks already and come back up, Stephen concerned only with the present, picking up stones and dropping the best ones in the little pouch he always had tied around his waist. She looked back down at the ground, these two will be perfect, she thought, bending down. As she straightened up again Margaret saw stars in front of her eyes, felt the sharp pain in her forehead and reached up to feel the split in her skin, the blood warm on her fingers.
The gnawing set in and refused to be pushed aside. It began as a fleeting pang, flickering messages across the mind, trawling through the memory, calling up images. At first it was words on a page, typescripts, innocent enough. Don’t believe everything you read. Later pictures were called to mind, single frames, flashes. The flashes take on motion, and you put yourself in the frame, going through those motions. Hands engaged in the ritual cutting, tearing. Tongue stirs in the base of your mouth, lips part. The stirring from below intensifies and can no longer be ignored. Christ I’m starving.
The shoes must be fabulous. Let's face it demure worked for our mothers (well, my mother anyway) but you absolutely must go for something amazing, feminine, sexy. The shoes must also work with what's under the dress, my dear.
Honey, you are not retarded. Don't talk about yourself that way. Kim.
It's fruit cake that stands up (literally) to being stacked high. If they don't like it let them not eat cake. Surely there is a desert served after dinner anyway.
The men can’t wear flowers? How about a pink sash? Oh, the military are no fun.
Kim, why should your wonderful daughter talk like that?
Three, it’s a magic number. Beginning middle end. Father son holy ghost. Three strikes and you’re out. Three for a girl. Third time lucky. Ready steady go. Three two one blast off. And baby makes three. Reading righting rithmatic. Me myself and I. Three stooges. Three blind mice. Three’s a crowd. Tricycle. Triangle. Hip hip hooray. Three bears. Three pigs. Three little kittens. Tic tack toe. Past present future. Going going gone. Fiddle dee dee. Id ego superego. Three bags full. Three men in a tub. I saw three ships. Magi. Red white blue. Third on a match. Three wishes.
‘Now? Right now?’ he shrilled.
‘If not now, when? And don’t shrill, it’s not manly,’ she replied.
‘Halfway up a ladder, covered in paint is not the ideal time. Look, we’ve been through this before, and I’m sure we will go over it all again. Just not now, honey, please.’
She sighed, ‘Fine, but when it’s next door they’ll be all over you in a shot. And all the shrill in the world won’t help you then.’
Their eyes lock. He fights the urge to look away, aware she is one point up for the shrill dig. Paint drips onto his bare foot, he looks down. Two points now.
I’m a team player, a real go getter. I can work on my own initiative. I’m enthusiastic. I can get the job done, see it through. Make it right. I’m a fixer. I’m a leader. I’m a loner. I can follow orders. I can pioritise. I can pick up the slack. I can delegate. I am efficient. I’m great with time management. I lead from the front, shoot from the hip. I got rhythm. I’m your man, girl, I’ll be your everything. I’m keen. I’m laid back, upstanding, outstanding. I can take it on board, take it to the bridge.
‘You mean, “please don’t smoke while I’m breathing”, right?’
‘No, just like I said, “please don’t breathe while I’m smoking.” I want you to engrave it just like that.’ He spoke a little slowly, thinking it would help with this transaction.
‘Whatever, it’s your money,’ the boy shrugged.
Actually only his words shrugged, so uncommitted was the boy to the conversation, the transaction, the entire human exchange, that he couldn’t even bother to lift and lower his shoulders as was expected. In my day at least we knew how to shrug, the man thought, we knew the meaning of indifference.
Chocolate cake in freezer. Whipped cream and berries in centre. Chocolate ganache on top. Coffee cake in freezer. Look for egg-white frosting recipe, otherwise do the one from the recipe in the A Hendy book. Lemon cake, as it is, just icing sugar dusting. Already in freezer. Banana cake, same goes there, the icing sugar. In freezer. Make pistachio cake, think about the cinnamon middle bit. Consider a granny cake too – maybe do the cinnamon bit in that one and not in the pistachio at all. Chocolate cookies, batter made, bake tonight. Look for cookie filling recipe. Macaroons. Get coconut.
The Tip Jar