Exciting Things

The evil that is Legal Research has been laid to rest, for now. Its monstrous hunger sated, it returns to the submarine chasm where it has dwelt in darkness since the world was made. There it shall lie, its thoughts turning to the humanity which was taken from it so long ago, awakening in its place a hunger which can never be truly satisfied. It waits, fearing and despising those creatures who walk above in the sunlight, biding its time until the day comes for it to rise from the depths and feast again on the souls of the helpless.

Which means that on Friday it was time to celebrate by going back to wander the halls of Selwyn as a ghost from distant times, who remembers his life and yearns for it to come again, yet enjoys the sensations as his fondly-remembered home comes, for but one night, to life again.

This is great stuff. I never realised that I was so poetic.

But yes, the Snowball. 'Twas good. The decision to build a paper temple around the Hall steps was inspired. Slightly demented, but suitably awesome. And apart from the bizarre wall of sound which was emanating from the Hall and causing my spleen to vibrate alarmingly, all was well.

Thanks go to Jack for the use of his extremely comfortable airbed (from which I fell only once) and to him, Clare and Gordon for putting up with me for an entire evening. No thanks at all go to the bastards at the Met Office, who saw fit to send us torrential rain and howling gales while we were queuing outside. Don't think you've heard the last of it, Fish.