Huh. It was an excellent evening at the Roundhouse last night, but for some reason the rich food gave me particularly trippy dreams. I spent a fair portion of the night bounding around the bedroom in a somnambulistic state, trying to prevent the little pewter statue of the man on the horse from galloping around sinking gradually and inexorably through the floor. Somehow the sinking into the floor made him simultaneously end up coming slowly through the ceiling, so that he was in imminent danger of falling on my head. It was all very worrisome. I'm quite tired, the more so because we had another extremely enjoyable session of Fiasco! this afternoon, and ended up nuking Ithaqa the Windlord from orbit, more or less. All very strenuous.
Yesterday's "aargh academia" link was possibly, as
herne_kzn points out, unduly traumatic. The discussion of it on
Language Log tends to suggest that it's not an unrealistic representation, depressingly enough. By way of balancing out all this unrelieved gloom, have
Bohemian Rhapsody played on slide whistles. Which I initially typed "slide rules", which would have been a lot more surreal.
Finally, while I'm wayward puppying, my latest
Microfiction went up earlier this week, and I completely forgot to mention it. The theme was "Outsider". Now with added religious fundamentalism. And gargoyles. I think I may have unconsciously modelled the protagonist on a pre-DR Chrysoprasia.