The dream is over. For two and a half years I was in with a shot, but not anymore. Granted, my chances of being knighted were so slim that if standing side on you’d be lucky to see them at all, but a chance is still a chance no matter how remote it may be. That news the imperial honours system has been junked should break just weeks before a new Star Wars film is released – presumably robbing imperial Storm Troopers of any hope that their work trying to fend off a Jedi-led insurgency might finally be recognised in a meaningful way – is almost too tragic for words.
The results, to date, have been decidedly mixed. Like many people, I have finally succumbed to the charms of Internet shopping, although the outcomes are somewhat unpredictable. Frankly, the entire exercise is a black hole; one in which time loses its meaning. Where the quest to manage your virtual shopping basket becomes something of a holy quest before the connection times out or the site crashes. Serves me right for using a homemade modem I put together with an empty tissue box, three bits of string and a nine-volt battery.
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