2012 — 11 May: Friday
One of today's tasks1 revolves around filling the empty spaces in Mother Hubbard's cupboard (and fridge). Where does one go to summon the necessary enthusiasm for that, I wonder? The matter transformers available aboard Star Trek's "Enterprise" would suit me.
Tea, Mrs Landingham? It's still too early for breakfast. Hah! Radio's attempt at news this morning:
"The bomb was to be smuggled on to an airliner hidden in underwear."
Why would one wish to hide an airliner in one's undies? Shome mishtake, shurely?
I learned...
... yesterday (from a chap seeing my snail porn photo) that the Dutch language (though aware of the hermaphroditic nature of the slimy little blighters) doesn't differentiate between 'snail' and 'slug'. I suggested that slugs are merely snails that have been evicted from their mobile homes. An escargot by another name wouldn't taste2 as sweet...
My replenishment exercise can now move on to Phase 2: some breakfast. The early sun is looking rather more like impending rain now.
Mr Postie...
... just dropped off the other 66.67% of last Monday's Blu-rays:
Both bought, recall, on the basis of their trailers. Not always a wise entertainment investment. But, heh! Beckett kissed Castle, so all's currently right with the world :-)
I can just about...
... wrap my addled brain around the idea of dying for a principle (like, for example, "women and children first") but this is the sort of item that blows my mind, and makes me think of that 1949 Frederik Pohl story "Let the ants try"...
... on the grounds that they couldn't really do any worse, could they?
Why I would...
... never make much of a philosopher. Source and snippet:
Can a materialist believe that there are holes in his Swiss cheese? The holes are where the matter is not. So to admit the existence of holes is to
admit the existence of immaterial objects!
One response is to paraphrase 'There is a hole in the cheese' as 'The cheese holes' or, to be a bit easier on the ear, as 'The cheese is perforated'.
What appeared to be an existential claim has metamorphosized into a comment on the shape of the cheese.
Forget the shape. Concentrate on the taste!
One wonders...
... what our beleagured National Health Service would have made of this, had it existed at the time?
My emphasis, by the way. I think I'd enjoy speaking with Jill Hamilton. [Pause] Back from tea and a broken biccy with Roger & Eileen. Let's see what delights the rest of the day has to offer. It's exactly 4.5 years since I lost Christa. Some days, it feels like that. On others, it feels more like just last week. Very odd. Still, at least it's (still) not raining.
"What's your number?" turned out to be quite a hoot. [Pause] As did the "Apes", to my pleasant surprise. Right. Time (as it's already in tomorrowland) for some of that sleep stuff.