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I have my first trial tomorrow so wish me luck. Kelly and Richard’s party coincides quite nicely with this event. Win or lose, I will have a bracing drink waiting for me at home. On a vaguely related note, here is a picture of the justices of the Canadian Supreme Court. Does it soften the blow if the judge who convicts you is dressed like Santa Claus?
This is the best piece of literary criticism I have read in a long while (admittedly I don’t read much of the stuff). It’s worth persisting with the entire article as I think it diagnoses a real and worrying trend in literature and criticism. I know this was written a while back but it’s just as pertinent now.
Thoughts, loyal readers?
For some reason people at my office regularly use the word bailiwick. I find this very odd. It is not a common word. Furthermore, they don’t use it in any legal sense. Rather, they say things like, “well that assignment isn’t really my bailiwick.” Bizarre! Firstly, there are any number of words that are far more common that one could use in that context (purview, jurisdiction, responsibility, etc..). Next, these are not people who are prone to flowery or baroque language. It would be much more normal if they said “That’s not my assignment” or “I don’t know anything about that.” Lastly, we aren’t English bailiffs from the 15th century. This is clearly some sort of etymological virus that’s spreading throughout the firm and I intent to stop it. It sounds silly.
I have already alerted some of you to the fact that a beloved, albeit recent, Richmond institution is under attack. The Belmont Butchery, purveyors of fine meats, once sported an impressively minimalist website. It was a single page that listed their hours and tantalized visitors with a picture of the marbled shank of some delicious creature. I visited the website many times even though the site didn’t grow beyond that one page. I pondered the juxtaposition of the spartan layout with the pictured cut of richly marbled, prized meat. On my last visit, however, I was confronted with the following graphic as well as the notice that the site had been hacked by “CrOwnzer.”
Applying the skills gleaned from reading countless Sherlock Holmes stories, I immediately deduced that the hacker is a lovelorn, teenage, Pakistani girl. How, you ask? Elementary, my dear Internets.
Why do the terrorists always strike the places we hold most dear?
N.B. – I do not think all Pakistanis are terrorists. I respect many things about the nation of Pakistan most notably its ability to churn out an endless supply of quality fast bowlers despite being riddled with corruption and having next to no infrastructure.
