I have just written the worst mathematics paper in the history of France in English. Thank god that it will never be published. Or at least if it gets published it will not be attributed to me. Probably.
This seems like a waste of an entry but my life recently has been math to the exclusion of everything but Mo Hayder novels (after finishing “the devil of nanking” I started in on “birdman”) while on break or in transit. There was a small misadventure with a service technician who came out to fix my “connection” but I’ll leave that one to your imagination. I was thinking to myself for a moment that the last sentence wasn’t a bad premise for an existential story but then I realized that is because it has already been done. In everything from treasured script to obscure pornography, whether it is a service technician or the pizza delivery boy. Alas just never mind it.
