It's been a while since I've written any sort of update on what's actually going on in my life. A fair number of this blog's readers are family members who check in occasionally to see how the child bride is doing, and who have no interest in "Doctor Who." Sorry, y'all.Rachel's fine. She's been in better spirits since summer arrived and her Welsh course ended. I think the latter may have had more effect. The summer is typically British. Occasionally the sun will peak out and make you think: "Ooh, I'm a bit busy at the moment, but tomorrow I will go out and make the best of this weather. I'll make a lunch and bike out to Gelynis and pick strawberries and it will be lovely." But then it will rain for three days. The child bride is planning to carry on with her Welsh learning in the autumn;...
Last night I had a dream that I met a Catholic cardinal and found myself asking him why he felt I should abandon my protestant upbringing and become a Catholic (other people dream falling or having to give presentations whilst wearing only a thong, but in my dreams various faiths and denominations vie for my soul). The cardinal got a twitchy little smile on his face; he was overjoyed by this question. This was a question he was confident he could answer, a question that he was going to knock out of the park. Of course, he didn't answer the question, though -- because he existed only in my head and I don't have the answer. Instead he started in with an anecdote about pickup trucks that bored me into waking up. But at its heart I think mine was a sympathy dream -- an attempt to identify...
Sport is an emotional opiate. Watching it on television is, at least.Occasionally, watching sport produces intense emotional highs -- memory-searing moments that stay with us all our lives. The moment that Wales won the Six Nations, and the whole of the Maltsers Arms seemed to be in midair in an explosion of celebration, the way I could feel the whole city screaming, that's a moment I won't forget. But those moments are rare.Generally, to watch sport on television means a few happy hours of emotional detachment that you simply can't get from watching, say, a film. This is why men prefer watching sport. We can sit there comfortable in the knowledge that at no point will there be some cute and quirky female character who we will fall in love with, only to watch her die or make some ass-hat...
Here's a strange but generally true fact about Americans: We don't like it when you ask us who we're voting for."That can't possibly be true," you're saying. Americans post signs in their front yards, they slap bumper stickers on their cars, they wear T-shirts and badges and hats with the name of their chosen candidate gaudily emblazoned on them. They spend hour after hour after hour consuming incessant political coverage and writing MISPELED ALL CAPZ RANTING on internet message boards.But, see, no one's asking them to do that.Despite all evidence to the contrary, Americans like to think that we are somehow above the political fray. So it is traditionally bad form to ask an American point blank who he or she will vote for. You are asking him or her to pick sides. You are asking him or her...
It's a simple fact that some peoples are naturally cooler than others. Black people for example: on the whole, blacks (and especially in the United States) are so cool that it is almost a super power. They can make anything cool. Remember that fashion of pushing up one's trouser leg for no particular reason? That was ridiculous. In a strictly controlled environment, jacking up the leg of your trousers is a sign that you haven't figured out how to wear clothes. But black people made it cool.I can't tell you how many times I've seen black guys wearing silly hats and managing to pull it off. I'll think to myself: "Hey, I like silly hats. I wish I could wear a hat like that." But I know I can't -- not unless I want to get punched in the face.That's life. I like to think that karma is somehow...
If, like me, you feel obligated to watch every television programme featuring a poncy British guy yammering on about whatever subject it is that he thinks is so delightfully interesting it deserves an hour of your attention, you know that the modern Olympics aren't quite the Olympics as they used to be. In the good ol' days, of course, the chaps ran around naked and killed each other. Ah, good times.Somewhat similarly, the Eisteddfod dreamed up by Iolo "Forgery is Fun" Morgannwg isn't exactly the same sort of thing that was going on back in the 12th century. It is an opium-induced Edwardian romantic vision of Welsh culture. That's an element that I wish they would play up a little more: "Welcome to Eisteddfod: kooky pseudo-druidism from the mind of a nutjob."Of course, dreamed-up cultural...
I am amused by this story, about a BBC duo who plan to spend a fortnight travelling across the United States speaking only Spanish. It reminds me a bit of the Popeth yn Gymraeg challenge of a few years ago, in which Ifor ap Glyn went around these parts using only Welsh. But the Spanish-in-the-USA challenge is considerably easier -- especially when you look at the BBC crew's route. I reckon that one could perform the same task following a route that hugs the U.S.-Canada border; running through places like San Antonio, El Paso, and Nogales will be a cakewalk.I want the BBC to pay me to do really easy things. Send me to Ireland to discover whether I can find any people who drink Guinness. Lock me in a room with a naked Reese Witherspoon to discover whether I find her attractive. Spanish...
Spanish grammar fact that can be interpreted as a general statement: "Ideas are feminine."Revision hell persists. Despite having at one time or another attended Moorhead State University (now Minnesota State University Moorhead -- it's always a sign of a quality institution when a university feels the need to re-brand), University of Portsmouth, University of Nevada Reno and Mesa College, this year is really the first time I have cared about the outcome of things.So, this is my first real occurrence of revision stress. I don't have the experience of coping and knowing how much panic is reasonable. Obviously it's good to have a bit of a fire lit under oneself for these things. But at the moment I seem to be suffering pretty much every stress-induced ailment imaginable. If I were an old man...
Someone found my blog searching: "Epson CX4800 is stuck in French."I can't quite explain why I think that is so funny. Epson are such fuck-ups, it's both amusing and not at all surprising that they would produce a bit of electronics that speaks only...
Please send help. Today I made a joke in which the punchline required knowledge of grammar. This is clearly the result of studying two languages and being all wannabe writer-like. Soon I will develop a Bill Bryson beard and become as tedious as Mark Twain*.Perhaps related to this is the fact that lately I have been seriously considering purchasing a smoking pipe -- preferably similar to the one used by Bing Crosby in "White Christmas." The only thing preventing me from doing this is the fact that the child bride would have a fit.My taking up smoking would almost certainly result in a sudden increase of Rachel "accidentally" hitting me in her sleep.*Remember, kids: You don't have to actually be witty if you look like you should be...
