Tuesday, 16 August 2011

Can't blog. Too hot.

I have previously mentioned my distaste for the temperatures of summer. My dislike of summer's hellish heat has yet to abate. Funnily enough, I just spent the last couple of hours feeling too sickly to do anything more than lie on my bed and read some more Gibbon. "Pete, it's cooler outside. Why didn't you go outside?" My cognitive capacity has been so reduced by the heat that I honestly didn't think of that possibility before now. Sadly, it's now late enough that a man sat outside with a book and a drink will be blind without a torch. A man with a torch will provide a, aha, beacon to all the multitudinous forms of insect life out there. I returned from the Post Office earlier and saw some hitherto unknown black insect crawling about on my windscreen. A flying ant or somesuch summer commonplace, no doubt. I don't have an animus against insects, but I do feel rather put out, both selfishly and with due kindness to wee winged thingies, when they drown themselves in my orange juice or silently secrete themselves on a page of a book. If they are lucky, I note and carefully remove them. If they are unlucky, then years later I find their pressed, dessicated corpses providing additional and unsought punctuation to my favourite authors. Or perhaps the image is that of a mediaeval manuscript, save this time illuminated with work similar to that of that plastination fellow, Gunther von Hagens.

Casting my mind back a few days, though, the situation was far merrier. For a start, I was in Wales, which is blessed with a damper climate than oppressively sunny Cheshire. Second, I was seeing several old friends from university, one of whom I haven't seen for years, as she's forever secluding herself in Saudi Arabia, where she lives and works. It was a delightful long weekend, and we managed to fit in a trip to the cinema, where we watched The Rise of the Planet of the Apes. It's a pleasing film, and dispatched my pre-viewing contention that the conceit did not give sufficient ammunition for the apes to overwhelm humanity. I tend to be the sort of chap who recognises actors based on their previous work, so the heroic human remains for me the second Green Goblin, or rather the son of Willem Dafoe's Green Goblin, that way I can lie to myself that Spiderman 3 never was. There were some amusingly well-done references to the original film, both in dialogue and imagery. I shan't bore you by an enumeration, since my heat-addled brain can't recall 'em. Oh, and because it'd be tedious. One of the central messages of the film is that there are certain things scientists should not mess with. I am finding this message a little tedious now, and wonder how deeply it's permeated our entire culture. I think I first noticed it back when I read Jurassic Park. New theme, please, people.

We also watched Your Highness, which I commend to any of you who are fans of very silly films with puerile jokes. We laughed ourselves silly. Funnily enough, it's another film with James Franco (Green Goblin Mk II, scientist dude in TROTPOTA) in it. We had a delightful excursion to the Penderyn whiskey distillery, where Peter (not to be confused with me), whose birthday it was, received a bevy of samples of their various products (whiskey in Madeira barrels, in sherry barrels and in Laphroaig barrels, gin and vodka). My estimable friends then did me the great kindness, on seeing my delighted expression on tasting the Laphroaig'd Penderyn, of buying me a bottle of that delectable spirit. I do recommend that to any whiskey-drinkers out there. While it has, of course, a delectable peaty quality to it, it is not so strong as the original Laphroaig, and so will appeal to those who find the Scotch too strong in flavour.

Right, that's three paragraphs that show my title is false. I think that's probably almost enough. I intend to put up some more things in a day or two, and to show the completed General Store, as well as my sketches for the Hotel/Saloon. If I remember, I shall try to spend all tomorrow out of doors. I hope that the heat doesn't sabotage my brain again, causing me to lose the capacity to reason. Right, until next time, dear readers, I wish you whichever brand of weather you most enjoy, and the beverage of your choice with which to enjoy it in the company of friends! Au revoir.

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