Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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   unappealing breed of show dog
Friday, February 29 2008
On an errand to pick up coffee and feline wet food, I took the dogs for a walk down to Onteora Lake. The day was sunny but temperatures were stuck in the 20s, so passing into the shade of an evergreen was unpleasant. No one was down at the lake, though there was evidence of past motorized activity on its frozen surface, including a circular pattern in the snow. This pattern was about 60 feet across and included a series of vague shapes in its interior, like the remnants of the foundation of a Mayan ruin.
Since the lake appeared solid, Sally and I walked all the way across it to its eastern shore, a steep rocky forested slope. Onteora's surface was covered with layers and layers of snow, rendering it indistinguishable from a flat grassy meadow.
Meanwhile Eleanor hung back on the shoreline. Evidently she'd remembered it as a body of water and there was nothing I could do to convince her to join me and Sally on its surface.


Gretchen is in love with a Scottish movie from 1981 called Gregory's Girl, which she'd actually seen when it first came out. Tonight I watched it with her and though I wasn't nearly as entertained as she was, I could see why she liked it. It was quirky; the little kids acted more mature than the older kids and there was real complexity to interactions amongst the adults. Most importantly, there was an expectation-defying twist that had something to do with which gender was ultimately driving the sexual-political dynamics. I have to admit that part of my problem with the movie was the inaccessible nature of early-80s hair, which made everyone of that period look like some unappealing breed of show dog.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?080229

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