Month: November 2001

I got to class today 15 minutes late, it’s not my fault, I woke up on time, and hit snooze on my alarm clock, little did I know that the snooze is set for 30 minutes here in England, not the normal 10 I remember from the states. So I sat in the back row of the auditorium (the doors are at the back) sans handouts and with the wide eyed, bushy hair mad scientist who just got up and is waiting for the coffee pot to finish brewing that all important first cup of life, which I did not get till after one since my class goes from ten to one!

Anyway, as I sat there in the neither realms of sleep deprivation and caffeine detox, I realized that I had just rushed out of bed, skipped my morning fuel stop to rush in late to a class that I know everything in (as it is basically a review of the algorithms and data structures I did in cs211 and cs310.) The first slide my eyes focused on began with the words ‘Binary Tree’

“Whoo! I know what that is!”

Oh, shit did I say that out loud? Half the back of the room was looking at me. Se la vie, thats what happens when you are not really concious due to lack of caffeinoglobin (a little known blood element, which the body cannot manufacture itself but needs in order for cells to fully function. Common signs of a deficiency include, droopy eyes, sudden unexpected overreactions to quite normal situations, temporary narcolepsy, and possible shaking)

While I pondered my situation class continued and I noticed how much like a muppet my teacher is. He jumps up and down on the balls of his feet and waves his hands in the air as he talked in a very soothing fatherly british accent. Not too loud, not too soft. He dresses like a puppet too; dockers khakis and plaid button downs everyday. And when he raises his hands, framed in the harsh light of the overhead projector, you can clearly see the perfect dark circles formed by perspiration at the junction of his upper arm and shoulder. The only thing that would make it even more hilarious was if he suddenly started saying things like “we love this stuff” and “oh… I don’t know!”

About this time the slide on the over head changed to a bunch of little circles connected by little lines. Inside the circles there where numbers. At the top was a 1 and it was connected to a 2 and a 3 in a kind upside down ‘v’ shape, and the 2 and 3 where connected to 4 and 5, and, 6 and 7 in the same fashion. At the bottom of the page where there line of numbers, each preceded with a word; PreOrder, InOrder and PostOrder.

“I can do that! Oh, I can do that too!”

“You said that with way too much enthusiasm.” the guy next to me whispered.

“It like seeing an old friend again…”

I am filing this report from the front lines. For the past four nights the sky’s of London have been filled with the sights and sounds of exploding rockets. Every few minutes a new barrage begins. Any direction you look you can see the explosions. The sounds of the rockets echo down the streets and allys forming a constant background noise. The air hangs thick with the smell of black powder smoke.

From my window, on the sixth floor of the City University halls of Residence in Islington I can sometimes see four or five explotions at a time. Late at night the flashes illuminate my room, and the blasts drowned out conversation.

This is Brain Beggerly reporting from London, England for Live Journal.

“What the hell was all that about?” I hear you ask. Well way back in 1605, someone buy the name of Guy Fawkes decided he wanted to blow up Parliament. So he got his tools together and tunneled under the buildings and planted his dynamite. Little did he know he was going to be unsuccessful, caught and charged as a traitor. He met an unpleasant end and continues to every year on or around November 5th. The 5th being the official day.

Also known as “Bonfire Night,” this is a holiday celebrated throughout England. There are local bonfires all over the place with firework displays, some have food stalls, and djs, and usually an effigy of Guy Fawkes is burned (hence the continual unpleasant ending for him). Good fun is had by all and leading up to the day you may find children around town asking “Penny for the Guy?” so they can buy fireworks or such.

Anyway, for the past four night, starting at around 7:00pm Friday there have been essentially non-stop fireworks here in London. I have a nice view of them from my dorm room as I am on the sixth story and my building is the tallest thing for quite a long way in the direction my window faces (which is toward central London). Every time I start open my mouth after sundown I have to compete with the booms, snaps and whistles of roman candles. I am starting to think that London is being bombed and this whole Guy Fawkes thing is a cover. I feel like I am in Kabul…