March 25th, 2005

greetings, SG1:feretti

(no subject)

On Monday an odd thing happened. I was somnolently watching TV after dinner (Rain King on FX, as it happens, as it was more plausible than EastEnders) and the power cut out. I'm not used to the power going out unexpectedly and I discovered that I am upsettingly addicted to technology.

For the first 10 minutes I wandered around the house, lantern in hand, muttering to myself "I'll just check my email...uh, no", "I'll just call a couple of friends... uh no" (phone through the cable company, mobile phone sadly lacking in charge), "I'll just listen to a CD... uh no", "I'll just listen to the radio... uh, no".

The lantern and candles didn't really give out enough light to read by and it took half an hour to dig up the battery-operated radio. Even then, the joys of commentary on Brighton & Hove Albion vs Reading were opaque to me.

By the time I realised this was a proper *long* power cut it was too late to go out anywhere like the cinema or whatever. So I drove up to Tesco, bought a torch powerful enough to read by and read Persuasion again, from Baronetage to Jane's navy fangirl parting shot until it was time for bed. I like the idea that Jane Austen was a Royal Navy fangirl and slashed naval lieutenants

I am too fond of things requiring electricity but I'm not sure what I want to do about that. I like things requiring electricity. Come the apocalypse, I'll be the one wandering around the burnt out wastelands, clutching my laptop to my wasted bosom, begging people for a power-up and pecking at the keys one-handed in the deluded hope that someday a light will blink on.

Then I will be eaten by a pack of wild dogs. Call it recycling.

The final shot will be of my mangled, gnawed corpse (slightly out of focus) and in the foreground, a laptop, a light winking on at last in the centre of the screen -- one last cruel irony -- before it begins to rain in a sulphurous and slightly carcinogenic sort of way.

And that's why I didn't get around to answering the comments in a prompt manner.

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In other news, work is killing me and they've not even called the election yet
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