This is not the place to talk shop, but shop has been brewing such a storm of vexations, that talk shop I must.
Vexation the first
The most prominent foodstuff on display at the campus victual-monger's today was SALMON JERKY. If I want victuals, I want victuals, not a strip of dead fish pickled in salt. That it's called "jerky" should be sufficient warning that it's inedible; prefixing jerky with the word "salmon" will fool noone.
Vexation the second
So disgusted was I by the pickled fish at the campus victual-monger's that I was forced to return empty-handed to my office. En route, I spied an anaemic A5-sized student publication, pathetically aspiring to its own title, viz. UR. Back in my day (she says, adjusting her spectacles), UR was a buxom A4, published on the fortnight, overflowing with pith and wit and wankesquerie and blah. In 2002, it was determined that a monthly publication would better represent the student body's menstrual cycle, and though less topical, the rag continued to perplex and amuse. What I saw today, this truncated excuse for a UR, described itself as a YEARBOOK. Yea verily, UR is down to a whopping ONE issue per year. It would be better off entirely extinct, so thoroughly has it been purged of all that made it light and delightful. Yes, earnest committee reports for all, not just the rich. May those who voted for the Liberal senate majority, thus ushering in this brave new era of Voluntary Student Unionism, now rot in the humourless piety of their pared-back student publication.
Vexation the third
Students who once would have exercised their pamphleteering tendencies in the free and public air of a fortnightly UR will now be forced to vent their literary frustrations in their classes: but these won't be MY classes, because just as the young agitators are about to start sinking all their rhetorical energies into their tutorials, I am preparing to leave. Sturm und Drang!
All this is so very frustrating that I feel peculiarly warranted in posting soft porn, for my delectation, if not yours.
Apologies to the faint hearted.