If you liken the human brain to a computer (which is something I like to do a lot), mine is the reconstruction of the Colossus that those two unassuming chaps are working on out the back of Bletchley Park.
This is not because my brain is massive, revolutionary, or the first of its kind. Oh no. Quite the opposite. My brain is like the Colossus because it is devoting a vast amount of computational resource to processing just two questions, which are being repeatedly fed into it on an endless stream of ticker tape:
1. Will I have to move to the rural south of France permanently?
2. If so, how will the rest of my life play out?
There's no way yet of answering either of these questions, but this doesn't stop my brain from endlessly processing, processing, processing. Lying awake at night, processing. Walking in the countryside, processing. Having a bath, processing. Cooking dinner, processing.
There are a lot of things that are worse than moving to the rural south of France. Thousands of Brits do it all the time. Then they write gushing books about it, or articles in the Sunday Times, which attract other Brits, like the bodies of dead ants attracting increasing numbers of live ants. The weather is usually quite nice. The countryside is beautiful. The hedgerows are full of rosemary and thyme and lavender and pears and hares and snakes and shrews. My house is rustic and cosy. The food is cheap and tasty, the coffee is great, the views are fantastic, and the neighbours are forever bringing home-made pies and cakes round.
Wait a second, why don't I want to move here again?
ALSO: Note to Realdoc - I can't comment on your blog at all at all at all, which is really annoying me.
About Father Christmas
2 days ago
11 comments:
I will liken mine to the software running MySpace, which yesterday interpreted the abbreviation for Washington state (WA) as Western Australia. At least the Colossus came up with the right answers, as I'm sure you also will.
Maybe because London would miss you too much. (or something like that.)
Hmm, dilemma. I've often thought that if I could have one superpower, it would be the power to teleport here and there as I pleased (much like Morph on that 70s kid's show whose name I forget) - wouldn't that solve such a lot?
France is good, but too socialist for me.
My brain is all hard drive and no RAM. Means I can remember rediculous detailed minutae from years ago, but I can barely function on a daily basis. The minute I walk out the door I've forgotten where I'm going, then I finally get there and I've forgotten what I was suppposed to bring, etc.
Bless. It's like those two chaps haven't been told they don't need to do that anymore... Parts of my brain feel abandoned as parts of B. Park - especially that bit in the back with the bombe machines which has holes in the ceiling / the odd chair lying on the floor.
PS Did you know they now have a exhibition called 'Pigeons at War'. We have to go back!!
P seems the problem is with non-beta bloggers. Betty has posted a solution on the comments to my latest post, as you are aware I am unable to post a link.
You miss London don't you?
Speaking as someone who's lived on three continents, I think it takes a loooong time to shake London (or wherever default home is) out of your system completely. Bangkok still feels like my term-time address when I was a student.
Still, the cakes sound good.
Oh ignore me, that was an anguished and selfish post that I edited the anguish and selfishness out of before I posted it.
Tom: The day will come when because a piece of software understands you to live in Western Australia, you will have to move to Western Australia. Or at least behave as if you lived there. Going to work in the middle of the night, sunbathing in December, picking up snags in the ute, and so on.
CB: like the hard drive vs RAM thing.
TR: And the bedraggled wedding party coming out of the hut with the bombe machine and the hole in the ceiling! Bletchley Park is very weird.
Realdoc: I can't comment no matter what I do - whether I log in as me, as Anonymous, or as Other. Be thankful, for I had something terribly pretentious to say about 'Our Tune'. And later I shall probably have something pretentious to say about being able to log in as 'Other'.
Tim: You have my respect for going to live somewhere so far away, especially with your attachment to British pop-cultural things. If I have to move here, I will - it's just that I don't know whether I have to or not, which throws loads of probably massively important things up into the air, hence the endless processing.
This blogger beta thing is a pain isn't it?
The big question is, is it tenable to move to France? i.e. will you want to move back to London if you know you're going to be their permanently...?
It's a horrible predicament - being in limbo. You can try to tell yourself that there's no point in worrying, but then you wake up at four in the morning worrying twice as much.
Still, if you have to stay in France, at least it's not "that" far away from Britain.
I have a horrible feeling we're all going to be railroaded into joining Beta Blogger and it's going to cause problems for a lot of us. Only the strong will survive, in a Day Of The Triffids kind of way.
The south of France does sound very lovely indeed. It's just Very Far Away....
Aw.
BTW I'm having the same problems at Realdoc's place, no matter who I sign in as.
It's not the distance, just the circumstances. I shouldn't have said anything; it's just good to write it down sometimes.
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