St Ives and a Random security check

On a trip to Melbourne, i underwent a random security check. This took place after my baggage screening. I had to read a form, give my consent and then had my pockets, hands, shoes, jacket and carry bag checked for traces of explosive material.

The check is supposed to be random, but as any student of random theory would tell you, human beings are incapable of doing anything random. Ask yourself a think of a random number and chances are you will come up with familiar numbers, numbers youhave used before, your birthdate for example. There is always a certain bias in any random selection that a human makes.  And so it was with me. Of all the people that passed through the area, I was the only one stopped for a random check. Lesson learnt - shave in future to avoid potentially embarrassing situations.

In other news, i read R. L. Stevenson's "St Ives". My excuse is, i was incredibly bored. I'll quote a few lines from that book and that should give you an idea of what the book was like (i hope i am not breaching any copyright laws - i solemnly acknowledge that the lines produced below are from R. L. Stevenson's "St Ives")

There was something in this man so antipathetic to me, as sent the mustard into my nose. I can never bear your bucks and dandies, even when they are decent looking and well-dressed; and the Major - for that was his rank - was the image of a flunkey in good luck.