I'm going to take this afternoon to see if Depeche's later albums are as bad as I originally thought they were.
Seeing the temperatures in Europe this week boggles my mind. 38°C in England is madness. They're just not equipped to deal with it. Here in Phoenix the summers can be a bit brutal, this weekend it will be 45°C/113°F.
But you can't really compare the two. Everywhere here has A/C. You go from cold car to cold building. Every room in every house has ceiling fans. And the heat is "a dry heat" as we have no humidity*.
None of that is true in England. I remember a few years back we were visiting my parents and went to Cambridge for the day during a hot English summer. We were dying and had to leave a sweltering shop and go into Mark's & Spencer just to get some A/C. I can't imagine walking around outside this week in Cambridge.
Sending hugs across the pond. Now if you'll excuse me I'll be inside next to the A/C vent.
* well except for the monsoon storms which bring the rains during July.
UPDATE 07/29 – and speaking of Cambridge, it was the hottest day ever recorded Last week.
Waking up this morning to see the aftermath of last night's first monsoon storm of 2019. Seen worse. Few branches down, leaves and twigs everywhere. Moisture still heavy in the air, it feels very muggy.
Taking an internet hiatus for a couple weeks was refreshing.
Started exercising again. (Hat tip to my old mucker @jaseyhall for the nudge)
Watched Assassin's Creed. It was good. Watched The Predator. It was not good.
Bought a new TV.
Bailed on the Cult Of The Dead Cow book.
Started The Outsider by Stephen King.
My sister put my face through that creepy FaceApp aging thingy.
Related: my likeness prolly pwned by the Russians for the rest of my life. Or something.
Much to nod about here. Billy Bragg summing up my thoughts about Morrissey.
Worryingly, Morrissey's reaction to being challenged over his support of For Britain, his willingness to double down rather than apologise for any offence caused, suggests a commitment to a bigotry that tarnishes his persona as the champion of the outsider. Where once he offered solace to the victims of a cruel and unjust world, he now seems to have joined the bullies waiting outside the school gates.
As an activist, I'm appalled by this transformation, but as a Smiths fan, I'm heartbroken
That feeling when you're really happy with the work done by the tree guy, but you look at his business card afterwards.
American born and bred
Which because of where we live is all a bit dog whistley for "…if you don't want brown people doing your yard work…".
Started reading the Cult of the Dead Cow book. An actual book with pages and stuff. We'll see how it goes.
spaceprobe.es is pretty cool.
Tobias Friedrich's split shots are wonderful. Half underwater, half overwater.
After years of me doing things myself around the house/garden, finally having to hire someone to trim trees. I mean I guess I could try to shimmy up to the top of the 50ft palm trees myself but I don't really want to die.
2019 has not been the "year of reading" for me. A few weeks ago I lamented:
I wish my reading habits were consistent. It's been over a month since I picked up that book.
If by "book" I mean Kindle then that's still correct, and there it sits in a draw uncharged as we speak. Last night I caught myself wishing I had an actual physical book with real pages and stuff. And maybe that's the problem?
So in an effort to kickstart this thing I'm going to keep the Kindle in the draw and go old school. The Amazon fairy tells me the first book arrives tomorrow.