an eye-glazed moment on Memory la

One thing that the others here rarely bring to attention is that this thing is a group effort. Currently there’s four or five people regularly contributing (six if you include me). It’s something of an oversite in the cogs of the Nucleus publishing mechanism that we aren’t allowed seperate writer names. There’s been official and loudly announced attempts to gee up the lads at Nucleus R&D to look into this short coming, but frankly I think most of the other five here like the anomalousless of it.
When they’re out at functions they can each claim to be this industrious, lateral “yak sox”, when in reality each of them mostly spends the week on the bog, taking naps, or checking how their breath smells. Conveniently, none of this current crew can stand one another, so they rarely appear at the same public events.
When it takes their fancy, one of them’ll occasionally ‘back one out’ onto the website. The truth is that the real yak sox died of old age in 1796.

My name’s Terry. My main contributions to Spouting. were made in the 1970s. Mostly I do the vacuuming nowadays, but the office this week has been even more deserted than usual.

I was perusing the filing cabinet and came across this photo:

<%image(20040304-chessteam74.jpg|558|375|the team)%>

The Spouting-sponsored junior chess team, which took out the international championship in 1974. We kicked in for the take-aways and mini-bus rental. However on the way back from Prague, elated with the victory, the boys pretty much destroyed the interior of the bus and we’ve never been able to go back to Thrifty Rentals since.

Young Percy, down the front holding the cup, was an unpralleled genius, and basically delivered the deathblow to the Česk√© republiky teamy with a move that can only be described as Fucking Mindblowing.
Not long after, the move was stolen by a ruski, kasperwitz (?) – I don’t remember now, but needless to say, the bent media got behind him and now what should rightfully be known as “the Bevan Manoeuvre” is called something else.

After that, in one of those moment of rare (frequent?) and intuitive foresight displayed by young people, Percy gave up chess completely and moved on to Go.

Apparently, Steakhouse Jack, who was a fantastic writer here for a relatively short period of time in the early 90s (and then went on to a stellar career on the West Australian celebrity vet circuit) is coming back in tomorrow to do a one-off editorial piece entitled, “Why Is It That In IM Convos My Internet Buddies Call Me Creepy When I Casually Mention That I’ve WHOISed Their Domain Name And Know Their Real Name And Street Address?”

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