Raffles madness

Oh the irony. All those post-colonial literature folk forced to drink their tea and coffee in a cafeteria named after the great imperialist Sir Stamford Raffles.

I was sitting there reading Nietzsche when I had a strange encounter with M and a new postgraduate student. I was telling M how much I was enjoying The Gay Science when this dude - an Irigarayan - started asking if we were 'gay scientists'. Over and over again.
M asked him if he was one and he replied while walking away: "I don't take a whip when I go to meet women." We furrowed our brows, and M duly noted that we were talking about Nietzsche, not Sade.

That was quite enough madness for one day.