This has been the worst week of my entire life so far. Never have things been quite this bad. Never-mind fall outs with burds, homelessness, or any other form of hardship, the realisation that there is no possibility of ever being able to talk to anybody about anything intellectual, comes as a serious blow. Big-time.
1) Universities, by their nature are secretive organisations. Not everyone is lucky enough to access Jstor, and by rights, students are not encouraged to share their knowledge with people who have not been studying, for the simply reason that these lazy so and so's do not merit being given this information. (And quite right so).
2) Even if the information was shared with the uninitiated, the uneducated slothful milling masses would not even understand the register, let alone abstract concepts or complex theories to do with specific disciplines.
3) Much like being banned from blogging (for the past two years) I am now banned from being a member of the the Open University Classical Studies Society which is newly formed by some would-be Classicist called "Peter".
As a result I have decided to finally terminate my studies with the Open University, and move to another country. This is because, for an intellectual, to never be permitted to talk with anyone about anything intellectual, is unbearable. itaque (So) I go to see Didier again, as he is the only person I know, who when I speak about du culture Classique understands what I say. I also have found the primary source I need to show him that the British gave the Frogs a damn good thrashing at Waterloo. I can go to him with a Diploma or two, tell him honestly that I have been studying history at University for the past five years, then bam! Hit him with precisely why the British gave the Froggies a jolly good spanking at the La Haye farmhouse eleven miles south of Brussels, on the 18th of June, 1815. This was the reason I began studying at University in the first place, and this is a blessing in disguise. Now, dinner table conversation with the world's smartest Savant (Dr. Didier Deman) will be forever transformed. I almost can't wait. I have already arranged to stay with Maxime "Naked Boy" Mathis, and his burd (my ex, well, most everybodies) Audrey. I will stop with them a short time, then journey across the country, after I have scanned in all my books, backed up all my data on to memory sticks (after taking what I like from the OU Library - never to be shared with anybody, as part of the terms of the agreement with the Covenant). Oh! This will be the first time in five years that I don't have to finish an assignment, or I don't have to worry about having the mickey taken out of me by a bunch of ignorant peons at work. This will be the first time in years that I can play a gig and get paid decent money for it (not just £20, like I get here), and although I will be destitute, I will be myself again. If the OU Classics Society don't want me, I'll just have to go to where I am am wanted.
The mountains, are so beautiful, the air clean, the water pure, it is a breathtaking place to live. I almost cannot wait.
There is, of course, a slight chance that I may continue studying with the OU and live here, providing a way can be found to open dialogue, with Peter, the tyrannical head of the Classics Society. (Not being able to speak, is a hallmark of tyranny).
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