Classes: "will to the thinkability of all things"

I've been trying out the local wireless internet service. I take the laptop down to Fine Hall and watch chess in the afternoons. In case you haven't heard (huh), the 'world championship' (long story) is taking place right now, in Argentina. (No more games played in east Siberia being over before I wake up in Pacific time zone.) As I type it's mid-evening here and Topalov seems about to pick up his second win in as many rounds -- against Leko and Anand, respectively, canonically described as the principal competition, which one would think would put him far ahead of the pack (twelve rounds remaining notwithstanding). It seems Topalov is playing like a man possessed, not exactly by Caissa, but with boundless fight -- today he refused to take back the exchange he sacrificed even when it seemed that he no longer had any compensation, just, somehow, to keep fighting. And it seems to have paid off, as Anand proves that not even Anand can play fifty moves of perfect chess. What an allegory: "If I can't be right, at least be bold--"

Which brings me to the list which has dominated my attention for the past week:

• Analysis -- since the instructor was still unable to manipulate the digits of his hand, he -- got someone else to teach the class. It turns out that there is a class in algebraic geometry basically at the same time which I might go to instead. I had some notion that I should take some analysis-type class with an eye to that part of the general exam, but the overlapping of material seems to be non-existent, to the extent where one hardly even needs to recall the material salient to one side to execute the tasks on the other. So it looks like I just spend some time with Folland or Rudin (textbooks) sometime between now and next October (or whenever).


• The Very Bad Characteristic -- a very pleasant surprise. It seems this class will be very accessible and very interesting. It is only too bad that it is so early in the morning, I can hardly wake up early enough to eat breakfast, make and drink my tea, walk over there, and so forth. (Today one of these got cut out. "Walk over there" wasn't it.)
  
  While there is a lot of mathematics that I enjoy -- I don't hold with those who disparage commutative algebra or whatever -- I've a special fondness for Galois theory, (roughly speaking the study of symmetries of algebraic numbers), which I first learned as an impressionable young undergraduate. It is the most beautiful mathematical theory I have known, something which by the maxim "excess is proof of itself" demonstrates a fortiori that there is beauty in mathematics. To work on a problem in this field would be satisfying, indeed; and that it relates deeply to the study of algebraic geometry, the field I'm slighting when I say "most beautiful," well,...
  
  Something, as we say in our reserved language, to keep an eye on.


• Representation theory -- which I attend because my advisor is teaching it and it seemed like the politic thing to do. I think by the end I may be believing that "to impress this person" is one of the classically idiotic reasons to do something. Or some reflection along these lines (append some caveats and provisos). It is not yet clear where we are going with this theory so I'll soldier on for now, especially since my resolve to stay with the class in the previous bullet point means I won't be able to attend the "introduction to algebra" class further.
  
  The trouble is that it feels like everyone else in the room is there because they're Really Serious about representation theory, whereas I'm halfway there on a lark, not a total lark, I like it fine, but it's pretty far from being a career interest of mine. It's a pervasive feeling, though.


• Discrete math -- seems like a lot of fun, as discrete math often is. Rapid-fire graph theory. In the afternoon but not late enough that I can take a nap after the morning classes.

That's about where it lies. I bought some books online (what a miraculous form of commerce), and picked up a little something else, too -- Verdi's Rigoletto, and, under the hypothesis that the neighbours don't like Verdi like I like Verdi, some headphones. Not "extremely good" ones but not disposable, either. Seems like pretty good sound, right down to the singers' steps on the stage and the coughs in the audience.

Got to keep entertained here, you know.

I'm sitting here, kind of in disbelief, because it seems like Topalov may manage not to win after all. Such a sad story. Sitting partly entranced by what is happening and partly because Blogger is undergoing maintenance, preventing me from submitting this for the moment. Fortunately, I still don't know what's going on in Morozevich's game. Yet mysteries of the universe. ("--try to solve them, but can you? -- nope; they're mysteries.")