The Company of D

This is not intended to be an attempt to imitate an aging humourist who lost his funny bone about the same time Das Kapital was thrown out of the Kremlin. It is also (most unfortunately) not a review of that gangster movie - but then, reviewing that does not offer much opportunity to pour the hate out. Instead, we try to fulfill (in suitably roundabout terms) a request that you may have seen in the previous post. Note that when you're talking about G's and D's, there usually arises a question that we carefully step around here.

So, there's this little village that could. Unfortunately, the Breeteesh decide that it really could, and go ahead and build a Jail there. Fast forward to a certain long march over long years, when a person wearing a rose and a funny hat decides that the best possible thing he can convert a jail into is a college - after all, the function is basically the same: to keep unproductive members of society in close contact with each other in the hope that the unproductiveness averages out on the long run. It is a mystery to us as to why this college was not named hogUARTS, so that is what we call it.

Anyway, hogUARTS prospered after such an auspicious beginning, with millions of decistudents passing through its hallowed translocation-proof walls. However, such prosperity was soon to end, as, in an unrelated event, the writers of this sequence of bad prose ended up there.

Now it is true that in most large collections of inhumanity, there are usually some people who define the average, and the rest just try to make sure that the values specified for variance and skewness are justified. This particular gathering was no exception: There was D.

And that's all. We avoid carefully all description and implication of telescoping paper carriers. Let there be no accusations of adhering to the letter of the law, while strangling its spirit!