Friday, 26 February 2016
Prog Rock has just left, my brain feels like it has done the mental equivalent of the Marathon des Sables. He has read me many extracts from a giant tome called "Inequality" and showed me several of the many graphs therein, quizzed me on French fin de siècle anti-semites, membership of Action Française, the keratin content of wool, the year of construction of the Brussels ringroad, deportation levels in Belgium during the occupation, the rise in debate on transgender issues and Vatican finance. He also brought me Lemsip Max, teabags and fondant fancies and taught me how to darn my jumpers properly, so it was a crammed 36 hours.
This morning, he also explained to me how/why he is now housing a Lativian family as he attempted to locate/download/fill in a 91 page visa application for them (sample question: "Have you ever been accused, or convicted, of crimes against humanity and/or genocide?"), dealt with a Russian language query from one of the Latvian housemate's employers about deodorant and bought himself some light reading for the train home in the form of a small red book called "Pour en finir avec Mein Kampf". I'm not surprised he's always tired. He looks more and more like the BFG also, which is without a doubt the best way for a man to age.
I have to go now because we're going to Paris this weekend with my father and stepmother to the Salon de l'Agriculture to admire some gigantic cows and the like. I will take lots of pictures so next week will be The Week of the Enormous Farm Animal, you can expect great things. I also have vague, grandiose, book related plans for the blog so you can look forward to me forgetting all about them too in the coming weeks.
40% mild packing resentment
20% lapin du Président anticipation
20% still Lemsip