Christmas is coming, and from what I can tell I'll be spending it in Exeter. I'm going to at least go see a Panto though, just for the sake of saying that I was part of a British Christmas, but apart from that I don't think Christmas is going to be very big this year. The fam's sending me presents, which will be fun.
They say Christmas has the highest suicide rate because people who don't get to be together with other people on Christmas find it excessively lonely. I don't think that's the case for me, but it is sort of haunting.
I'm looking into alternative places to stay. Like Adam Latek's famed relatives who live nearby who I've never met.
Happy Advent, ye with families!
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Looking for selkies
Griffin-upon-Avon
No one smiles in Westminster
I don't believe in it, anyway.
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Looking for selkies
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2007
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November
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- Torpedoing the Ark
- Call to Adventure
- Asphodel
- Advent
- Shoes and Ships and Sealing Wax
- The Naked Stage
- The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, Almost
- Lay Off the Earl Grey
- Even More Dreams
- More Dreams
- Spider-Pig
- Goodwill
- Life and Love
- A Little Synchronicity
- Extra Care With Strangers
- Shot to the Heart
- Tasty Tea and Pasties
- Philists
- Epic Theater
- A Curious Phenomenon
- English Weather
- Cadbury Fingers and Dildos
- ...a beast?
- More Than This Provencial Life
- A Dream Post
- Mind 3? Time2? Roll Arete
- Of course, of course
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Big Griffin, Little Ben
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- A Synchronaut: jetting across the waves and flares of destiny - to wax high fantastical.
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No one smiles in Westminster
Quotables
Richard II:
This royal throne of kings, this scepter’d isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Fear’d by their breed and famous by their birth,
Renowned for their deeds as far from home,—
For Christian service and true chivalry,—
As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry
Of the world’s ransom, blessed Mary’s Son:
This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leas’d out,—I die pronouncing it,—
Like to a tenement, or pelting farm:
England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds:
That England, that was wont to conquer others,
Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.Sean Bye:
"British people will always make fun of your accent, but deep down they'll be jealous because you sound like a movie star."
T.S. Eliot:
"A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now and England."Ken Worrall:
"The only difference between the English and Americans are their perceptions of each other."
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