Day 136 - The Ragman's House

My Easter vacation is nearly over - five weeks has gone past in an amount of time that appears to defy science as we understand it, yet still the physicists ignore my letters.
On Sunday I return to Oxford, and there are only five weeks until my exams start. I believe so, anyway, since the Examination Schools still have not released the exam timetables for any of the mathematics department. They appear to be mocking us cruelly, in a show of such brazen scorn that there can only be two possible explanations:

1) One hideously unfortunate afternoon, everybody involved in such things arrived home from work and then XXXXXXXXXX XXXX XXXXX XXXXXXXX XXXXXX XXXXX beyond space and XXXXXX rending XXXXX XXXX XXXXXXXX XXXXXX horror.
2) One unfortunately hideous afternoon, everybody involved in such things was kidnapped and replaced by agents from the Anti-Mathematical Team, who have set about quietly dismantling all university mathematics departments, and are trying to deny they ever existed.

Continue to fight the good fight, my brothers and sisters. Hide that textbook under the floorboards, and let the No-Maths Police come knocking. Whisper axioms and laws of inference to your children when all written records have been burnt, so that the knowledge will not die. Shelter the Fields medallists in your attics, and supply them with paper and pencils. Though our freedom may be eroded, our morals corrupted, our children sold for air conditioning research, pure mathematics will live on.

Harry visited a couple of days ago - we went to Whipsnade with Julia. This was pretty cool, and deserves a proper blog post (Harry/Julia, I'm looking at you). He should also be very excited that he's been mentioned in my blog post.

I have not forgotten his request for a blog on what I was saying about philosophy and free will. I will, I promise, when I have time to think. Things are so hectic round here, I am literally rushed off my feet.

Ouch.