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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   freak October snowstorm
Saturday, October 29 2011

At some point today I looked outside and saw snow was coming down at a solid rate, which is an unusual thing to see at this time of year. The flakes were big and wet and tended to melt at first, but over time the air grew cooler and it began to accumulate. On lawn furniture and other surfaces not in contact with the ground, it eventually added up to about six inches. On the ground, which still has residual heat from the summer, the depth only reached one or two inches.
Something about the weather and the fun things Gretchen was making in the kitchen (biscuits and gravy) made the day feel special, almost like Christmas. I just wanted to do things like get under a blanket and watch teevee. Gretchen and I began watching a classic Hitchcock hot-pursuit thriller from 1935 called the 39 Steps, but then the power went out. That's the thing about heavy wet snow at this time of year; it tends to topple deciduous trees that have yet to shed all their leaves, and when they fall sometimes they hit power lines. This time the tweeting of our dying smoke detectors freaked Eleanor out enough that she went out to our doghouse, which I'd recently stuffed full of fresh pine needles. It was probably rather cozy in there.
So I stoked up the fire and Gretchen and I read back issues of the New Yorker in the living room. Eventually natural light faded away and I brought out the kerosene lamps and head-mounted LED lamps. I reheated the biscuits and gravy on the woodstove and they were delicious.
I expected the power outage to last all night, particularly after finding out (via pirated internet) that "millions" were without power after this freakish storm. But at a little past 8pm, the power miraculously came on and stayed on. So Gretchen and I were able to finish watching the 39 Steps. I don't have much to say about it other than to observe that it was surprisingly erotic for its time. It might also be the oldest movie I've ever watched from beginning to end.
Later I found myself comparing and contrasting scenes from the 1973 original and the Americanized 2006 remake of The Wicker Man. Both movies are essentially unwatchable, but comparing the scenes back and forth was actually a bit entertaining. One thing that stands out in the comparison is the absence of a Christian affiliation for our policeman-hero in the American version. Christianity is a touchy subject for American audiences, and it seems the producers thought the subject should mostly be avoided, along with most of the sex. We're a lame, lazy nation founded by Puritans.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?111029

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