|
My Profile
Gift from Hil Part 2 - 2014-12-30
|
9:26 a.m. - 2010-03-17
I am going through a patch of self-loathing that would be comical in its intensity if only it didn't hurt so much. I'm not going to be boring and go on about it, I just wanted to say something so if stuff I say sounds a little off you may safely chalk it up to that and not fosh yourselves. So, mental health PSA is over, let's go on, shall we? Spring sprang yesterday. Windows open, shirtsleeves, all the usual yadda. Rather amazing since the previous day was so wet and raw it required not only a heavy coat, but hats and gloves too. 'They' say this kind of upsy-downsy weather makes people sick, but 'they' say all sorts of dumbass stuff. If simply changing the temperature and humidity rapidly made people sick then there'd be folks being laid out every time they showered. Duh. Though I think I read somewhere once that Elizabeth the First was so leery of the evils of bathing that she only had two baths during her entire life. Warrior queen, brilliant strategist and powerful monarch or not, she must have been one stank nasty bitch. I always think about stuff like this when I contemplate time travel. I have an extremely sensitive nose. Going back any substantial length of time (say anytime previous to the mid-1970s, heh) and I'd be bowled over by the reek. It's always the small mechanics like this that get me. I never think about how time travel might actually work, I get hung up on what it would be like when I got there. Dopey stuff like not having immunities to the common germs, the ones from our time being so mutated from the past ones. Ditto having the proper digestive squirmies in my tummy. First meal I ate in 1770 would at the very least result in explosive diarrhea. Then, of course, I'd be stuck with using disgusting outhouses and chamber pots to deal with my gastric woes and in comes the nose thing and UGH. My wonderful time traveling adventure would be nothing but a whopping case of the pukes and squirts and possibly the plague because my antibodies are strictly 21st century. 'Visit history in the making! Get a whiff of George Washington's B.O.! Gnaw on un-refrigerated days old meat! Get pneumonia!' Yeah buddy, sign me up for that. Yes, I am a weirdo. I know this. I don't get too hung up on the whole 'I went back in time and accidentally killed my own great-grandfather and now I don't exist' nonsense. Upon thinking about the whole time continuum paradox I decided that if you went back in time you couldn't screw anything up because the time between events would have to play out exactly as it had to bring you to the place you started out from. Unlike Marty McFly, nothing would be changed upon your return. Whatever you did in the past has to be how it had gone, otherwise you wouldn't have gone time traveling at all. Or at least not right then. Am I making any sense here? Would you like a break to have a spliff and come back when discussions like this are far more enjoyable? Rightie-o, off you go. Come back when you're properly altered. Reading this at the office and it's inconvenient to get Rasta-fied at the mo'? So sorry. I'll move onto something less stonerific to talk about. Like Saint Patrick's Day. This being a drunkard's holiday rather than a cannabis flavored one. Quarter Irish lass that I am I'll be making the traditional boiled dinner tonight. Traditional in the US, actually. I understand they don't even have corned beef in Ireland. Which makes sense, very few Jews in Ireland, thus a real dearth of kosher delis which is where you get good corned beef anyhow. And frankly soda bread is gross and I can only imagine the horror of a reuben on soda bread with some kind of weird Gaelic cheese and not Swiss and do they even have sauerkraut and 1,000 Island dressing? No. I'll bet the dill pickles in Galway suck too. So, high ho, I'll be making the traditional Jewish-American St. Paddy's day dinner. For my wholly Irish in-laws and my barely Irish (but green haired) child. Gotta love bastardized multi-culturalism offered up in the name of ethnic heritage.
|
