Wednesday, 20 May 2009

This department.

This evening, as I strolled down the street, I nodded to a member of staff in the department. Who nodded back, then did a double take, and availed himself of the opportunity to tell me lies about my office mate and ask me to him that he thought he was very innapropriate. And that he said he said he shouldn't have said what he said, right, because, no, right, because it was well out of order and like its not right to say things like that because they're not true innit.

This department is a school playground.

The Landau Russian. Um. Pole.

I understand now how Russians physicists think.

They certainly know a lot. They have read a great deal. They remember all the little lessons they were ever taught, all the tricks, connections and basics which can be applied to trickier problems.

Problems like conversation. Because they really have no idea how to handle that.

In fact, they also can't discuss research. Well, not your research anyway. Say something that they don't understand, and their first reaction is to reach for something which no-one understands well, or is fiendishly complicated, and ask you about that instead, phrasing it as an attack on your work.

They're such, such fun!


I've been in this department for six months. Today was the first time a member of staff asked me what I work on.

The first time.

And ten seconds into my explanation, he dismissed it.

Russian string theorists are, in my experience, not nice people.