I’ve just had a long shower. The match starts in 5 minutes and I’m sitting in bed, my old t-shirt sporting a cold, wet patch that’s slowly expanding on my back from my dripping hair.
I’m not going to get to see the game because, alas, it’s only being played on Foxtel. Even though I’m in a neighbourhood well-populated by pubs (both the old-man, run-down type and freshly renovated, sports-bar variety), I can’t be arsed to leave this bed. So even though all my students will be talking about it tomorrow, I’m going to have to miss out.
I’m going to look where Qatar is on Googlemaps now.
Sports isn’t politics but for some it’s at least a lesson in geography.
30 seconds later…
Qatar is west of Dubai, I may have actually seen it on the way to the most excellent tax-Free nation-state of the Middle East.
Finished Strawberry Hills Forever and it’s inspiring. I haven’t read such great descriptions on the minutiae of life since Perec. Sometimes I wish I could get every detail down. Not with photos because that’s become boring by the saturation of images in our everyday existence, it’s a tired vocabulary. Not with art because I have no idea. Maybe with words. Les mots sont nets et flous. Concrete et fluide.