pumpkinstrokemarrow

Cold in the breakfast sandwiches very dry. Felt the need to add a slice of tomato.

Made it half way to Cheam today, returning via the hump at West Ewell mentioned yesterday. With detours, the whole trip getting on for the same distance to Cheam and back. But the hump told me that I am not yet ready for Howell Hill: a few more days warming up needed yet.

Been pigging on Beethoven's Op. 95 string quartet the last few days. A wonderful thing on closer acquaintance. But I became mindful of B. Britten's worry about gramophones, relatively new and rare in his day. The worry being that ease of reproduction would mean that people would start listening to musical sublimities while chomping on their juice and cocoa-pops, which being rather disrespectful, insulting even, to the composer of said sublimities. All too easy: put the disc on the turntable, start to listen, then drift off to the bookcase and start on something else. Or off to the laptop. At least at a concert one does pay attention for a good proportion of the time; there are certainly less distractions.

All of which links to a worry of mine about pictures. If you are a popular model or singer or something of that sort, your picture is apt to be all over the red tops. Not to mention the entirely respectable fashion and media pages of the DT. From where it winds up sculling about in gutters, wrapping up fish and chips and being used to wipe mud off the kitchen floor before the BH gets home and pops off about it. No respect at all. Don't like the idea of my mug shot being used in this way. But I don't need to worry as it is very unlikely to arise. Which links in turn to an anecdote in McCarthy's 'Blood Meridian' concerning an Indian chief who did not like the idea of a picture of himself existing at all; but since it did exist it could not be destroyed as that would be bad magic. So it had to be buried in the floor of some remote and unknown cave where it was most unlikely to be disturbed. Dry part of the world so decay would not be a problem either.

Oddly, Muslims have the reverse problem. They don't like images of people in case the images are shown too much respect, not too little.

Small parcel has just flopped through the door and not too pleased to find that part of my sparkling new direct debit in favour of the TLS has been used to send me a fairly naff cloth shopping bag and a small box of very tasteful TLS flavoured notelets. Notelets not being a medium of communication I have much use for. But as they do have the virtue of being blank inside, perhaps I will use them as greeting cards to such of my acquaintance who are apt to be impressed by such things. Or even visiting cards.