The Mobile University

… to the Royal College of Physicians earlier this week for a conference on the use of mobile devices in higher education. An interesting mix of people including academics, IT managers and commercial providers. Lot of stimulating talks and discussions, all highly enjoyable and very rewarding.

I learnt about femtocells, and user experiences (and how you can’t trust them), the wide multiplicity of handsets (did you know that the i-Phone actually has a very small market share), the continuing popularity of the i-Pod touch, the educational use of mobile technologies in the developing world, location-dependent apps, Moodle on a mobile, how there are lots of pilots and not much that’s sustainable and i-Borrow.

And there were lots of interesting discussions betweentimes and in the early evening. About how no-one really wants to likes the idea of shared services, and projects keep being repeated without cross-institution learning. About where the new political coalition is going, what will happen next and how long will it last. About “Transgressing the Boundaries: Towards a Transformative Hermeneutics of Quantum Gravity” and “The Tremulous Private Body”. Which led us to discussions of whether Dr Who was modernist or postmodernist (‘but postmodernism is so 1990s, dear boy…’).

The most divisive thing about the day, however, was the architecture. An avowedly modernist 60s building sitting amongst a landscape of measured regency Nash terraces. According to the college’s web site; It is an acknowledged modern masterpiece, created by Sir Denys Lasdun. The Royal Institute of British Architects awarded Lasdun its Trustees Medal in recognition of his work on the College.

Several of us … disagreed.

The Curse of Tom Lehrer

This is kind of hard to explain well, but here goes.
School opera. End of school year, so we went along to support them and enjoy ourselves. Eldest had some involvement.

The Mikado. Now, I have been a G&S fan for a long time, and The Mikado was one of the first of the Savoy operas I ever heard or saw. (I have a peculiar memory of seeing it on telly with Eric Idle in the role of Lord High Executioner?). Watching the school production (which was very good), lots of the libretto came flooding back, including famous phrases such as 'Merely corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative'. Trips off the tongue, really.

Anyway, a few days later we started off on Summer Hols, and embarrassingly I began to sing the finale song (or one of them) - about how he's 'gone and married Yum Yum,' of course. I suddenly found myself going wildly off-piste (according to eldest, who stuck to the correct chorus). I'd announced in my weak, off-key way that: '...I love she and she loves I...'. What was this? My memory of the operetta from way back had failed me.

Anyway, eldest fiddled around in the back of the car and solved it for me. He produced his shiny i-Pod thing, which tinnily blurted out:

To end on a happy note, one can always count on Gilbert and Sullivan for a rousing finale, full of words and music and signifying nothing.

That I missed her depressed her
young sister named Esther,
This mister to pester she tried.

Now her pestering sisters
a festering blister,
You're best to resist her, say I.

The mister resisted,
the sister persisted,
I kissed her, all loyalty slipped.

When she said I could have her,
her sisters cadaver
Must surely have turned in its crypt.

Yes, yes, yes, yes!

But I love she and she loves me.
Enraptured are the both of we.
Yes I love she and she loves I
And will through all eternity!

See what I mean?

So in my mind, I'd replaced the real lyrics from the finale of the Mikado with Tom Lehrer's (admittedly brilliant) pastiche. Which seemed to join perfectly with part of the real chorus.

I suspect the part that it superseded in my mind was:

Nanki-Poo:
- The threatened cloud has passed away,
Yum-Yum:
- And brightly shines the dawning day;
Nanki-Poo:
- What though the night may come too soon,
Yum-Yum:
- We've years and years of afternoon!

Sigh. What can you do about the man?


I think it's the combination of real musical skill and astonishing lyrical dexterity that gets me.

Some of the jokes may have dated slightly (who really remembers the 'Cool School'?) but so much of this is wonderfully fresh.