An old tradition of the Archimedeans is the annual Puzzle Hunt, where candidates are asked to run around Cambridge solving puzzles. A more recent tradition decrees that one question require an answer in the form of an essay. Candidates must write about “Life in Cambridge” in no fewer than 150 words, or 60 words if they write in verse. This year’s overall winner, David Moore, took advantage of the latter clause to gain time by writing what is undoubtedly the worst effort in the poetical line to have come my way for as long as I remember. He has paid me large sums of money not to reprint this. A prize is also awarded for the best essay, and this went to Michael Aird for his charmingly vomitory prose offering:
Every morning I wake up to the sound of my alarm clock ...I throw up in the sink as a result of the coughing fit I have to endure. I go to breakfast, throw up on my food, and run back to my room, throwing up in Trinity Street.
I go to lectures next. I throw up because they are so complicated that throwing up gives me something to do that I can understand.
Lunch is good. I throw up. ...
Perhaps I should add by way of reassurance that, in everyday life, Michael is a less emetical character than his prose might lead one to imagine.
Reproduced from Eureka 50 page 20.
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