2013 — 22 April: Monday
I rather like these gloriously sunny mornings. They go well with my morning cuppa.
Yesterday evening...
... I re-watched1 "Margin Call". I heard nothing to alter my already high opinion, while learning that an entire scene featuring Meryl Streep's daughter was deleted for a variety of "film school" reasons. (Including a large poster for "Inception" in the background of one shot that would have tied the film to a specific date.)
Reality?
Pah! Don't talk to me about reality.
Each Lovecraft story seems at once an absurd improvisation — pulling stuff out of his hat for the sake of filling pulp magazine column inches — and a careful extension of his basic principle that humans, were we to have any access to the true nature of the universe, would recoil with horror at how small a role we play in it and how much the universe doesn't seem to care. He often introduces an entire new species of ancient, if not thriving, life form while also confirming, often by quick allusion or repeated phrase, the persistent powers of some previously introduced creature or cultural item, notably the monster Cthulhu or the writings of the "mad Arab Abdul Alhazred" contained in the Necronomicon.
Heinlein put it much more clearly in the words of his (over)longlived character Lazarus Long: One man's "magic" is another man's engineering. "Supernatural" is a null word.
Time for some unmagical breakfast. Meanwhile my little winged messenger has just delivered the next four CaseLogic folders to hold another 896 CDs. The musical road goes ever on. [Pause, while I manoeuvre a great many internal sleeves around to re-constitute the last two of my "video" folders and relocate the "audio" sleeves accordingly — probably better not to ask.] And, now that Mr Postie's just dropped the remaining 66.67% of this month's benison from Uncle ERNIE on to my door mat it's finally worth making a trip out to wherever I shall choose to pay it all in. Although I've sort-of cut my ties with the Spanish gang, their paying-in machine is awfully convenient being within easy striking range of my grocer.
A chap still needs to eat, even as a gentleman of leisure.
Like Hope, emerging...
... last from Pandora's box, the giant carton of CaseLogical containers also concealed beneath all the bubble wrap a teensy little Blu-ray:
Though quite how our feckless film "classifiers" can brush off the mayhem as "Contains moderate violence" is beyond me.
Speaking of "feckless"...
... I've just been listening to "The Digital Human" and a strange young American woman who (I thought, somewhat irresponsibly) chooses to troll on the Interweb malarkey — following the example of Socrates, in her opinion — for her own amusement. Some hobbies, it occurs to me, are weirder than anything I ever get up to.
Plans are a'(booted) foot for a little country ramble tomorrow.