Yea, a date… can you believe it. After all these years, Hugo finally has a date. For a thesis defence for his M.ScEng, that is.
Now things get messy: I’m cancelling my entry in the Go tournament. I must prepare to suffer the wrath of TD (the Tournament Director). In particular, the tournament director responded:
By the power vested in me as TD, I FORBID you to withdraw!
I quake in fear, not knowing what my fate will be should I not heed the TD’s commandment. What will the TD do? Condemn me to an eternity in purgatory, where there is no Go, and only Chess? Oh, the horror! I quake with fear! Purgatory? No! It will be hell!
Nevertheless, a man has to do what a man has to do. A man has to eat, you know. That survival-instinct in this reality is simply too strong. The thesis defence calls. A battle of epic proportions, duelling with the wits of the guardians of the scroll, them that go by the moniker examiner. And no, unlike previous battles of similar sorts, the enemy no longer has the decency to fight an honour-bound one-on-one battle. This will be a battle with multiple simultaneous opponents. (Will our protagonist survive? Will he live to see another day?)
This is not entertainment, kids, this is reality. The final showdown occurs behind closed doors. No media, no spectators, just baited breath awaiting the final outcome. Kinda like that huge let-down in Mission:Impossible III, where they only show Mr.Scientology enter the building, and then come crashing out a window a while later. No details, because they had already pulled out all the stops, already showed the most impossible mission possible, in Mission:Impossible II. The fools.
I must agree, M:I III really isn’t worth watching. A whole bunch of same-old same-old with regards to preparations, predictable plot twists, and no real climax. (Though, actually, I can’t remember, and I’m just making this up as I go along.) The same applies to a thesis defence. Spectators can watch the presentation at the start, but get chased out when the real fight begins. As such, I don’t think there’s much point in inviting anyone. I don’t think I’ll even tell you that my defence is apparently taking place at 9am on Tuesday. Besides, spectators aren’t even allowed to chant their support for their favourite team…
In other news, I’ve postponed my US embassy appointment. (Actually, it seems you can’t cancel. I just made a new appointment and am simply not pitching for tomorrow’s. Eish, nasty. Will they use that against me?) Once my defence is finished, assuming I survive, there will be one last hurdle in this chapter of the odyssey: making corrections to the document, getting it bound in book form, then trading it in for the scroll of the Master. The scroll of power, the scroll of door-unlocking. At that point, I will also get back to doing the Job Search thing and making holiday plans.
And now our ill-fated hero retreats to his training grounds, to hone his senses, train his reflexes, increase his stamina, visualise the battle, and play recognise-animals-in-the-clouds. Drats, no clouds today.