Tuesday, 27 May 2003

Hang on. Why the hell am I blogging now? I'm re-installing IE. In a minute I'll have to stop. Silly me.

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Damn; it didn't work. I was re-installing because a parasitic toolbar has installed itself on IE and is popping up items of a less than wholesome nature. I found some proper removal instructions involving editing the registry and laying the smack down on DLLs, but it seems to have been to no avail. Humph. I guess I'll try uninstalling it properly after this. I also have a headache. I don't know how .dlls and the old amiga .library files differ, but the fact that the former are apparently vulnerable to being pissed about with by web-borne viruses argues in favour of their relative craposity. I hate PCs; vive l'amiga. I might even get one if they're still around by the time I have enough money to buy a home computer.

I'm sick of pop-ups. I need a new host for this blog. I've encountered plenty of the buggers just looking for that. I think my demands are modest enough:
  • Size: 5MB

  • FTP access

  • No pop-ups

  • None of that "This site has exceeded its bandwidth; piss off." nonsense

Perhaps I am asking for too much. Someone who always, always asks for too much is James. I can't remember the last time he ever used shareware or stolen software that he didn't moan about for its lack of features which "they must be able to do". He then proceeds to spend an afternoon searching the interweb for software that does do it. The annoying thing is that he usually does.

Today is the last day before I must start working on my Renaissance Blood, Death and Other Inconvenient Things essay. Therefore, I thought it sensible to get my dissertation bound finally. Caroline and Ellen were at the bus stop. Ellen had some package from Amazon which she was returning "because it's crap" apparently. So crap was it, that she did not wish to explain the nature of the product. Very interesting.

I think printing and binding my dissertation has cost me about £8 all together. If you convert that figure to pints, you get a number which I'm not happy with. As ever (you'd think I'd have learnt by now) my early start didn't help me, because the Guild printing shop doesn't open until 0930. So I returned my books on Marlowe and Ford. It has come to my attention that the kind of people who feel compelled to make notes in books of literary criticism tend also tend to have a defecit of life. I never make notes in books. Anyway, I swear these people get off on the fact that they can pretend to be lecturers for an afternoon. I wouldn't be surprised if I found a "!!! Please see me Stanford, Kevin. MBA MPhil" remark in barely legible pencil. I think that you could probably make a good book out of students' smug margin notes, like Nigel Rees' Graffitti.

Given the length of my stay on campus, I ran into a good few people who know who I am today so far. Students met I one; a very pleasant girl whose name I cannot recall, but whose presentation group I was in for the infamous Contemporary Cultures module. She was looking at exemplar dissertations from the past, presumably to see what they're meant to look like and she asked to see mine too, politely, and hopefully not insincerely, saying that it looked very good. It has got pictures. Can't argue with pictures. Also ran into Eddie and Tony. Yeah, I know; the School of English is actually a subsidiary of the mafia. I was hoping that I migt be able to get my dissertation handed in today as well. Fat chance. What good is it if Julia knows your name but you still can't cheat the system?

I was going to go shopping when I got back, but as I mentioned, I had a bit of a headache. So I polished of my Neurofen and typed this up. I believe it is subsiding, but I'll do some note-making while I'm here, and then go shopping after lunch with James. Have pleasing days everybody.