Oh, Babe, What Would You Say

 Sometimes perhaps it's the little victories that are more pleasing than any one might have that could be regarded as significant.

Just now, I'd cashed out on the Henderson 'good things' at Exeter because non-runners in the 4.55 meant I could have a couple of quid profit without a horse setting foot on the track. Johnny Blue became a 1/6 shot and notwithstanding that there's no point in such a price, he wasn't rock solid business anyway.

And so it proved. And it's nice to be on the right side of a cashout for once. It's not only a couple of quid for nothing, it's an odds-on-sized stake saved.

 

Quietly, discreetly almost, creeping up the chess ratings at Lichess on 30-minute Classical games, this morning I got back up above a rating of 1900 for the first time in maybe three years. I did once achieve 1918 so a personal best is still three more wins away. 1900 is a minor landmark and 1919+ would be a better one. Feats don't fail me now but 2000 is still light years away.

 

One sees Maigret in a slightly different light on closer acquaintance with Simenon who made him up. It takes a prodigious talent to produce such a body of work but admiring the work for what it is isn't the same as loving him who it all. Of course he's going to be that which came to be known as 'alpha male' but that's not a guarantee of a good thing. All your Trump and Boris are 'alpha' but also unspeakably awful whereas maybe your Camus was more like a humanist saint, as if there could be such a thing.

 

I'm very gratified to see the 'metrics' of this chronic divulgence of words for word's sake looking as healthy as they've ever done while remaining well short of 'trending'. Thanks for being there. I often wish I could be a bit more Wittgenstein and say nothing when there's nothing to say but there's a difficult choice to be made between continuing to string words together because it doesn't feel as if there's anything else to do and not stringing words together and finding there isn't anything else to do.