The Professor Peregrine Papers

Some of you may have read in that scandalmongering journal “The Improbable Ratiocinator” about the debate between the Professor and Dr Hamnish Clifford over the value of the Hyperbolic Infrared Lighthouse. The progress of this debate was hampered by the fact that the participants insisted, for unclear reasons, on using the Sloom Rules of Active Disputation. Despite the sterling efforts of both men, the Professor remained profoundly unsatisfied with the outcome. In a final attempt to resolve the discord, the Professor challenged Dr Clifford to take part in a game of “I packed my bag”. However, shortly before the appointed day of the contest, the Academic Transfer Window opened and Dr Clifford left town in a campervan to take up a distinguished position on the hallowed and (some say) hermetical island of Little Cumbrae. “Probably for the best,” the Professor muttered as he waved farewell with an outdated copy of Wisden in the direction of the rapidly disappearing campervan. My initial un...

Anyone who has even a passing interest in the Professor's career will doubtless agree that I have been avoiding the elephant in the room. (Not literally, of course; I have spent a number of happy hours with Celebes the Elephant). I have to admit that it is high time that I address the Professor's role in the controversial but legendary Nubiferous Experiment at Upton Snodsbury.  When Professors Gaincope, Gannywedge and Choops began this extraordinary endeavour they had the highest hopes of success and considerable funds from anonymous bankers, dubious politicians, frenzied venture capitalists and other mountebanks. Indeed, their early results were creating considerable interest in publications such as “The Farrier's Monthly” and “The Cordwainer's Digest”. This led to the inaugural trio inviting other academics, scientists, latent runagates and prospective grifters to take part in their momentous venture.  The Professor rarely speaks of his involvement but there is littl...

Uncle Leucocholy had a life-long fascination for wind instruments and was said to be a crumhorn virtuoso.  He wasn't, of course, but people said it anyway.  His favourite instrument was, in fact, the basset horn. Sadly, this was also an instrument that he was completely unable to play. Nonetheless, he amassed a fine collection of basset horns which were much admired in woodwind circles.  Unfortunately, he frequently mistook a basset hound for a basset horn and added these to his collection as well. They followed him everywhere.  The story that Uncle L once mistook an albatross for a postage stamp is, I must add, a complete and frenzied fantasy.  At least, I think it is.

Recently, the Professor and I attended the ‘Six Cricketers In Search Of An Umpire’ event at Willingham St Mary. The result of the match was most unexpected, in particular:  Sophrotatos (The Armenian) c. R. Queneau b. S. Stylites 23 I decided to seek the Professor's opinion on a pet theory of mine: “Queneau provides us with a convincing narrative as he fields at first slip but, I fear, he is overly concerned with the conspicuous plenitude of options available,” I suggested. The Professor considered this before replying thus: “I believe it's said that the laudable FJ Durston (of blessed memory) ventured a similar opinion in the bar during a Test Match at Lords. However, everyone present feared that such a filipendulous and acroamatic assertion could be the cause of notable fashery and so it went no further. Although, just last week I did greatly enjoy rereading Long Jack's article in the Extra Cover Almanac in which he discussed, in a far less contentious manner, Mr T...

Some years ago, you may have come across the Professor's paper titled “The Quasi-Quantum Implications of Divarication Patterns in Incipient Coherence Interactions”. This paper became famous, perhaps even notorious, in academic circles at the time, since almost everyone found it incomprehensible. The Professor attempted to explain his theory in a series of lectures where he made innovative use of puppets to demonstrate the more abstract points. They were entirely unsuccessful, partly due to chaotic puppet string entanglement. What is less known, though, is that the Professor attempted to encapsulate his core theory by using the complex metaphor of surprising and unlikely events in a recognisable context. To this end he produced the pilot episode of a sitcom set in 1959 entitled “Whoops! Here Comes The Vicar” in which Beryl and Stan try to live their traditional, comfortable lives with hilarious but enlightening consequences. However, the Professor abandoned the project before it was...

Knowing that his time here was coming to an end, ChopChop began to spend more and more time sitting halfway down the stairs, remembering.  But, in order to chronicle his recent exploits, he found the time to summon the sonnet committee. Finally, ChopChop acknowledged his friends and supporters as he set out on his farewell journey across the Lake of Inertia. This lake is usually hidden by a great fog of doubt and is only visible on alternate Tuesdays in November. Thankfully, he's gone (at least, for now), but whenever I stick my fingers into glue, I find I miss his feathery face and I must admit that his 106 not out for Greenbooth against Little Raveley proved conclusive on that glorious summer day.