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Entry tags:
University Teaching, Melomys Day, Housing Matters
My major news for the week is that I've apparently become a teacher, of intermediate and advanced English, at the University of Rojava. The pre-dawn orientation meeting via video-conference was quite enlightening, but the difficulties the students face in war-torn Syria are also as expected. It was also interesting to meet the other teachers of course, largely a group interested in politics, international relations, human rights law, etc. Given that Rojava is the closest thing that the world has to an anarchist government (no, that is not a contradiction in terms), if I was younger I would certainly prefer to be there on the front-line with these comrades. This is the least I can do under the circumstances.
Another modest action has been preparations for Bramble Cay Melomys Day, where Guardian cartoonist has, once again, given us a wonderful reminder for the day (and decent media coverage, a resource that I lack). I'll be hosting a small memorial picnic in the Carlton Gardens this Saturday. I hope a few other souls will come along to remember this species, the first mammal extinct due to climate change. I rather fear that there will be more.
Preparations for my new apartment continue. I have paid the deposit, I have the unconditional approval for a home loan, and I've argued with the banks and brokers trying to assure them that my living expenses really are as low as I say they are. Apparently, I live in this alternative reality where it is incredulous that I have minimal transport costs (I cycle everywhere), no modern consumer electronics, no streaming services, and a big night out is a once-a-week visit to the local pizza bar with a glass of wine. I do have something close to five thousand books, however. "You talk like a millionaire, but you shop at Aldi", a friend remarked recently. Maybe the two things are related.
Another modest action has been preparations for Bramble Cay Melomys Day, where Guardian cartoonist has, once again, given us a wonderful reminder for the day (and decent media coverage, a resource that I lack). I'll be hosting a small memorial picnic in the Carlton Gardens this Saturday. I hope a few other souls will come along to remember this species, the first mammal extinct due to climate change. I rather fear that there will be more.
Preparations for my new apartment continue. I have paid the deposit, I have the unconditional approval for a home loan, and I've argued with the banks and brokers trying to assure them that my living expenses really are as low as I say they are. Apparently, I live in this alternative reality where it is incredulous that I have minimal transport costs (I cycle everywhere), no modern consumer electronics, no streaming services, and a big night out is a once-a-week visit to the local pizza bar with a glass of wine. I do have something close to five thousand books, however. "You talk like a millionaire, but you shop at Aldi", a friend remarked recently. Maybe the two things are related.
no subject
Five thousand books? You're just ahead of me, dammit.
I would imagine you have rather more cultural capital than your average "millionaire". Folk don't seem to equate the vicissitudes of the rat-race with cultural barbarism quite enough for my liking.
We do know that folk with cultural capital and refined tastes are scary and have to be depicted in our media as serial killers, sadists, fascists, or merely extremely odd; unless they are actually of the Mandarin Class, in which case it is assumed to be their birthright. I suppose that's why I've gotten away with it.
no subject
I suspect so, too which is why the comment struck a strange chord. The old-school "millionaires" who are supposed to carry that cultural capital belong with the Cheeryble brothers of Dickens, a largely fictional artifact. But there I go again.
The media depiction is an interesting one, and not something I have considered deeply. I guess it's an easy plot device.