I've started the lecture series I downloaded from Yale University on Dante's Divine Comedy. Listening to it may not be quite hell, but it certainly feels like purgatory. I heard the eighteen minute introduction to it the other day and it did send me warning signals. Today's lecture was an hour... on a poem Dante wrote when he was seventeen. I've only made it through half so far and the lecturer only just read the thing. It was all of twenty or so lines. Sure, I recognise the importance of analysis for the classics, but I have to say easily ninety percent of what the lecturer has said so far was sheer unadulterated waffle. I mean an hour lecture on a twenty line poem, I ask you? He keeps interrupting himself and taking himself off on wild tangential asides... only to get further distracted and even more sidetracked. If this guy tried to make it in the science faculties he'd be drummed out so fast he'd still be asking why as his backside hit the pavement out front. There's a line from the original star wars movie, right towards the end said by a totally unimportant bit player, but would be a really good one for this lecturer to heed. "Stay on target."
We got our Tasmanian drivers licences in the mail today. It's official, Paula and I are Tasmanian now. I suppose we should do something to celebrate, maybe go for a drive up to Ben Lomond this weekend as we keep meaning to do before the snow comes. There's apparently a little ski slope up there in winter and it's less than an hours drive from here. The roads are very narrow we're told and could be a bit dicey if we haven't seen them sans snow first.
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