Sunday, April 25, 2004
Unbearably lovely hot weather, took advantage to pop down to Brixton and hanging out with Angel, had a distinctly average Sunday roast at a restaurant on what I think was Atlantic Road, they asked me how I wanted my meat and I said medium, they promptly burned the veg to within an inch of it's life and left the meat practically untouched. That's what I get for choosing a place purely on the grounds that it had a big cartoon of a woman on the wall with a sign saying "never mind the bollocks..."
Anyway, after that and a trip back to Angel's flat to allow a tactical regroup and also to dump the bag of Babylon 5 videos I'd brought for her (sorry Invisible Al, but she got to them first), we headed out and made our way to Brockwell Park (site of the filming of some bits of Spaced IIRC) to spend the afternoon lounging around drinking. I need to organise a Barbemeet there with some great urgency. Admittedly in our search for shade we sat down on the east side which doesn't give you much by way of views except some hedges and the tops of the houses beyond them. When we came to leave we walked around 'the mansion' and I saw the west side of the park for the first time. A view that stretched out as far as the Millennium Eye and the Gherkin. It quite simply qualifies as one of the most beautiful sights I've seen for a very long time. In this entry from his excellent blog Dan Hill quotes approvingly Cory Doctorow on London:
London is a practice: London is what Londoners are doing right now, which is informed by, midwifed by, descended from what Londoners were doing yesterday. London is what Londoners do.
We were all doing London this afternoon. I Love Everybody.
Anyway, as we relaxed I expounded my theory about how we needed to knock down old houses and ruins in this country down in order to revitalise the left-wing and stuff Conservatives like Howard and Blair. There was a third part to this argument, possibly involving sexuality or polygamy but unfortunately I've forgotten. Isn't this just the way? Would the world have been a vastly different place if Marx had gone and sat in a park one day instead of the British Library? Would there have been a vastly different theory of physics if Einstein hadn't got that job as a watchmaker? Oh well, my theory would have changed your lives and now it won't. Your loss.
I give thanks to the Great Pink Pixie in the Sky that I have so many great friends that encourage me, admittedly what you might consider one of the duties of a good friend, Plums, Butch Julie and Angel to name but three. I love you all. But anyway, as writers block seems to be in place as far as forward movement on my unfinished work is concerned I'm going back to write the second draft of my first and greatest unpublished work, Thanatos. I'm going to have a reread first, see what needs to be rewritten and what is okay (I've extremely pleased with the entire last chapter whereas most of the rest of it has it's moments) but Angel has really made me see the opportunities this offers.
And why is it that whenever I'm wearing a skirt does my right DM bootlace always keep coming undone but not my left lace or either of them when I'm wearing trousers? What is so different about my lace tying procedure en skirt that teases it loose so easily?
Anyway, after that and a trip back to Angel's flat to allow a tactical regroup and also to dump the bag of Babylon 5 videos I'd brought for her (sorry Invisible Al, but she got to them first), we headed out and made our way to Brockwell Park (site of the filming of some bits of Spaced IIRC) to spend the afternoon lounging around drinking. I need to organise a Barbemeet there with some great urgency. Admittedly in our search for shade we sat down on the east side which doesn't give you much by way of views except some hedges and the tops of the houses beyond them. When we came to leave we walked around 'the mansion' and I saw the west side of the park for the first time. A view that stretched out as far as the Millennium Eye and the Gherkin. It quite simply qualifies as one of the most beautiful sights I've seen for a very long time. In this entry from his excellent blog Dan Hill quotes approvingly Cory Doctorow on London:
London is a practice: London is what Londoners are doing right now, which is informed by, midwifed by, descended from what Londoners were doing yesterday. London is what Londoners do.
We were all doing London this afternoon. I Love Everybody.
Anyway, as we relaxed I expounded my theory about how we needed to knock down old houses and ruins in this country down in order to revitalise the left-wing and stuff Conservatives like Howard and Blair. There was a third part to this argument, possibly involving sexuality or polygamy but unfortunately I've forgotten. Isn't this just the way? Would the world have been a vastly different place if Marx had gone and sat in a park one day instead of the British Library? Would there have been a vastly different theory of physics if Einstein hadn't got that job as a watchmaker? Oh well, my theory would have changed your lives and now it won't. Your loss.
I give thanks to the Great Pink Pixie in the Sky that I have so many great friends that encourage me, admittedly what you might consider one of the duties of a good friend, Plums, Butch Julie and Angel to name but three. I love you all. But anyway, as writers block seems to be in place as far as forward movement on my unfinished work is concerned I'm going back to write the second draft of my first and greatest unpublished work, Thanatos. I'm going to have a reread first, see what needs to be rewritten and what is okay (I've extremely pleased with the entire last chapter whereas most of the rest of it has it's moments) but Angel has really made me see the opportunities this offers.
And why is it that whenever I'm wearing a skirt does my right DM bootlace always keep coming undone but not my left lace or either of them when I'm wearing trousers? What is so different about my lace tying procedure en skirt that teases it loose so easily?
