Ha ha ha

Lee returned from College yesterday teatime and said, in all seriousness, that his tutorial had gone badly, the tutors had “torn into” him and said he was not doing enough work. He made out that his position on the course was in jeopardy, and as Barry and I responded accordingly he suddenly said, “Naw, I’m lying . . . It went really well.”

Ha ha ha. He says he regrets this habit of telling pointless lies.

Lee and I spent the early afternoon speculating about passport fraud to be achieved by sending off for birth certificates of deceased persons, opening bank accounts under these false identities and amassing large and virtually untraceable overdrafts. Our speculation knows no bounds, and after an hour or so discussing the scheme we’d already planned holidays in Tibet . . . It was quite an optimistic day.

I went off to University at three in as good a mood as I’ve been all term. A subtle change in mood transforms how you interpret the world, and I seemed to suddenly find my immediate prospects a cause for optimism, more proof of how we intentionalise our perceptions. If I’m in a good frame of mind I perceive the good things. It’s a change to feel this.

At the University library I took out Gone With The Wind and immediately realised I had no intention whatsoever of reading it. It might be a significant book, but I am past caring. This entire degree course is one long charade, an exercise in self-deception.

In the evening Lee and I had the same thought, simultaneously and yet separately, that we should go and stage some flame photographs down in the crypts on Smith Square. So we screwed a lift out of Ade, went briefly to the Devonshire Arms near Sutton Road, and set out on our task, but the large wooden gates at the entrance to the site were freshly padlocked and topped with spiked railings and barbed wire so we were thwarted.