I think my education's gone out to lunch

[venta]

Yesterday, I claimed that a Whitby (goth weekend) wasn't a proper Whitby unless you'd been fed dubious jelly off a shared spoon. Over on nalsa's journal I was just declaring that a chemistry lecture simply isn't a chemistry lecture unless you end up with a treacle tin buried in the ceiling.

I'm fond of such yardsticks. Yesterday I treated secutatrix to some of my views on narrative theatre (Shakespeare isn't really Shakespeare unless it has a pantomime camel. A play about 19thC. Russian history isn't to be considered a worthwhile play about 19thC. Russian history unless it has a 6ft tall ginger cat smoking a cigar). She was remarkably tolerant.

However. There are many things in this world for which I do not yet have a reasonable yardstick, so you are invited to knit your own measure of worth:

[Poll #379020]

Thank you. All metrics gratefully appreciated.

Comments

[broadmeadow.livejournal.com]

> I was just declaring that a chemistry lecture simply isn't a chemistry lecture unless you end up with a treacle tin buried in the ceiling

On a tour of a local secondary school the other day I was pleased to note that there are still gas taps on the benches for Bunsen burners and the like, with the nozzles set horizontally. A chemistry lesson simply wasn't a chemistry lesson without a good 3-foot flame coming out of one of these things and the wax melting on the bench. Regrettably modern-day preference appears to be for melamine worktops.

A chemistry lesson also simply wasn't a chemistry lesson unless you could get the teacher to rush your experiment into the fume chamber with a slightly alarmed look on his face.

I like the image of a treacle tin embedding itself into the ceiling. I don't think we ever achieved that!