Once again, Mr Bamboo is greater than the sum of his parts. No, I didn’t grow an extra head.
I was the epitome of diligence this morning and would’ve won a prize for it if they were awarding them. I wrote the lesson plan for class this afternoon (all right, there was some cutting and pasting involved), and the one for the AS class tomorrow; marked the AS class’s vocab test and recorded the marks, and decided at that point that I wasn’t going to sit around at school playing chess against Shredder 3 (although I did and defeated it using the Dutch Defence; I’m getting a bit bored with Shredder play 1. d4 when it’s white because it’s a rather vague sort of opening; it seems Shredder has been trying to play the London System; I did try playing a King’s Indian Defence in another game, but it ignored my efforts).
So I came home, did a little more work cataloguing the openings in the various pgn files I’ve got because the name on the box is not an especially accurate representation of the contents. For example, a file called Nimzo4Nf3.pgn has 58 different openings and not just from ECO E00-99 (which includes various and numerous Nimzo openings).
But I also thought that I ought to go and do some shopping while Carrefour might be a little deserted since the place is an utter nightmare on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon.
I went to Gizma for tea the other night for the first time in ages. The area outside Walmart was actually comparatively empty, although when I came out of Gizma, the usual hordes of rollerblading children were out gliding across the paving. As I was heading down 青石路 there was the inevitable traffic jam. This one, though, was not the product of the usual discourteous motorists but caused by a small mob of people who had gathered around a police car. I’m guessing that Plod had nicked some nefarious local villain and the mob wanted to see what a nefarious local villain looked like. Meanwhile, black cars being driven by far worse villains were passing by.
I finally finished off Paul Auster’s New York Trilogy, a series of three [I think the word “trilogy” gave that away. –ed.] novellas with an existentialist theme a couple of days ago. Then last night I put an end to A Bottomless Grave, which is an anthology of 19th horror stories published by Dover Books. I’ve read them slowly over rather a long period of time, but if I remember rightly, I’d classify one or two as ’tec fic rather than horror. The final story in the collection was about a vampire mummy; but from what I read in The Guardian just recently, zombies are the new black (though only if you’re a boy). Can’t say I think much of zombies, which are too dull-witted to be of interest. Hmmm, rather reminds me of my little darlings from the other programme.