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This is another one of the stories I’ve postponed telling because it’s not easy and I had yet to feel “inspired”; then again, this blog is getting old and I’ve given myself yet another deadline to tell the stories that are important, inspired or not.

Viata este un sir de experiente. Aici e cine sunt, in ce scop, si ce-am facut in ultimii cinci (zeci de) ani. Cat mai pe larg, narcisist si pe-ntelesul tutulor, in 2 sau mai multe parti. Asta ar fi prima.

Numai bine ce incepusem a povesti cumu-i cu validarea la romani (mai precis, lipsa acesteia) ca m-am trezit aproape injurat / linsat. Si cand te gandesti ca exista oameni care-si imagineaza ca eu am blog ca s-agat fömei..

In episodul precedent de conjectura am petrecut nitel timp in dojo, impartind sabii in stanga si-n dreapta. Aici intru nitel in tara unde matematica se deprinde atunci cand cumperi sau vinzi weed si detaliez nitel lupta mea cu creierele de sub husa.

Cracanel a publicat initial acest articol pe site-ul sau. Dar de cand l-a mutat pe Blogger de pe Wordpress si si-a republicat articolele, p-asta nu l-a mai pus fiindca nu i se potrivea cu spiritul site-ului. Si cum l-am avut amandoi profesor, am decis sa-l republic eu.

One of the stories I wanted to tell is the story of the “repetenti” or “corijenti” in our primary school. Each class had a few of them, more or less equally distributed among the “good classes” and we were all supposed to do our best to “pass” them – i.e., help them graduate, in what today seems like Finland educational equalitarianism.