I check my spam filter every day, because at least once a week I find something in there that’s not spam. Lately, in among the cheap rolexes and male enhancements, there’ve been a bunch of messages titled “you said we can talk.” This makes my teeth itch every time. Like I need this recrimination? Honey, I might have said we could talk but, if you can’t get the grammar right, you can forget it. I don’t know how to say it plainer than that.
Last night we watched Guy Ritchie’s Revolver. It’s rubbish, as I’m sure you all know. We watched it because it professes to be based on chess. Z pointed out afterwards that he’s seen many movies (and read many stories) that make this claim, and none of them gets chess right. The main sign is that these texts portray experts as taking a game to a checkmate that comes as a surprise to the other player. According to Z, real chess games never get that far: they go until both players can see that one is in a losing position — no surprise, and never checkmate. He has a lot of other criticisms as well, but says they’re too technical.
I’m at a hiatus on my article. All the revisions are done, and 29 footnotes are in place. I’m only waiting on one book being sent by my secretary, one article being sent from the editor of a journal in England, and one being sent by the editor of journal in California. I’ve found that in these days of immediate electronic access interlibrary loan is going to hell in a handcart, and it’s easier just to write the editors of obscure journals and beg them to copy something and shove it in the mail.