Thus far, the best part of the new computer: access to movies. Despite the joys this provides, I may step out this afternoon and take in a film at the three o’clock showing. The movie poster doesn’t inspire great hopes in terms of script quality. But watching the thing with children provides the special draw. The synopsis, in quick and dirty translation from the French: seventy million years ago, when dinosaurs ruled the earth, Patchi is born, the youngest member of his family. On the long road to (dinosaur) adulthood, he must survive in a savage and unpredictable world, and face the most fearsome of predators.
Juice and cookies to follow the showing. I’ve a mind to make that my New Year Celebration event. Invites to parties, of course. But so few days of quiet left before work lands like an avalanche again. Time to read, write, mull things over, and re-arrange stuff? Grab it while I can.
Leafing through a catalogue of titles, I stop on two: one called Life: An Unauthorised Biography by Richard Fortey (this one going back a full four billion years, so there, take that you Patchi-threatening dinosaurs, you). The other: Surely You’re Joking, Mr Feynman! by Richard P. Feynman. The blurb says the man “approached scientific experiments and practical jokes with equal gusto”. Sounds like a plan.
After which I’ll rein in my acquisitive appetites until further monies flow through from the work projects.
Draft? But of course. What else do you think I’m doing besides reading, mulling things over, watching movies and cleaning out old files?