Dorm raids and young bloggers: that's what I'd put in the subject line tonight. Dorm raids, because the one that was planned was intercepted by Mrs C, who just happened to overhear the logistics being discussed, and soon launched her own ICBM, which, as well as extinguishing the fire of youthful enthusiasm, took out a number of the key figures as well. As you can imagine, there was considerable (un)diplomatic fall-out, but as the politburo that run this place have a zero-tolerance approach to dorm-raiding, if a member of the resistance is found lurking with that deadliest of weapons (a pillow) in his hands, he can expect the worst. Peace broke out soon after that, I'm pleased to report.

And young bloggers feature due to the fact that Channel 4 News is running a 'Young Blogger of the Year' competition. I thought, for a nano-second, of entering, but then dispelled any such fanciful ideas rather quickly. I wonder why.

Chapel was remarkable this morning. I always lead the service on Thursdays, and, after I'd had my usual rant at the non-appearing lesson reader and substituted the one advertised on Mr Lapwood's sheet with a volunteer, we settled down and enjoyed the tranquillity of our place of worship. The lesson was part of Psalm 40, which, as I'm sure you know, goes on about being rescued from the mirey pit. Of course, in my opening homily I spoke about the Chilean success story, so you'd imagine that the lesson I had chosen was particularly apposite, would you not?

Except that I didn't choose it. The lesson readings were planned by Mr Lapwood - two days before the beginning of term.

Goodnight.