That sounds weird, doesn’t it?
You see in Portuguese sensaçaõ termica (thermal senastion) translates as wind chill; except we don’t have any ‘chill’. In the south of Brazil, it may be appropriate, but here in Rio, not. The actual temp was 40ºC and we have been
threatened promised the same figures for today, or higher.
In fact the worst news is that February promises to be a whole month of these temperatures.
Heaven help us if the botequim runs out of beer again!
Mercifully, the botequim had chilled beer yesterday. It was the only thing that stopped the neighbourhood from a total meltdown.
I got to thinking during the night.
Danger bells ringing!
We’ve really screwed up Christmas. I’m not refering to the commercialism, etc, but rather the whole Christmas story.
The 25th December is wrong, Jesus wasn’t born in December; remember the shepherds watching their flocks? In December in Palestine the shepherds were not freezing their butts off watching their flocks, the anmals were in the house, on the lower floor, with the shepherds safe and warm on the next floor. It has been estimated that the real birthdate of Jesus was probably about August. Why does the church insist on this? It was to tie the birth of Jesus into the pagan festival, so that the pagans celebrating were fooled into celebrating the birth.
Now look at the nativity scene. It’s wrong too. It is doubted that Bethlehem had an inn for Mary and Joseph to be turned away from. In fact custom dictated that they stay with her relatives, so they would have been housed in a small guest apartment on the roof of the house, or bedded down with the animals on the first floor, not in a yard stable as the story goes. So there goes the story of rejection. This misunderstanding came about as a result of bad translation from the Greek.
Even Santa Caus is wrong. Based on a Turkish bishop who probably never wore red. The red idea comes from Coca-Cola in the 1920s. Red associates with Coke, nothing to do with Christmas.
It’s time we straightened some of this shit out.
For me, 2014 has been a year of changes, not unlike any year. I have changed my socks, underwear, toilet rolls, light bulbs; yes, for me it has been a year of changes.
I have reflected over the past few weeks, if I was to measure the year, I would use corks.
Yes, corks. These are the corks that represent my year form about April or May. I had a lot more, but gave them away to a neighbour who is doing a project. There was also one that broke under torture as I was applying the
thumbcorkscrew, and the one that had to be punched into the bottle because the cantankerous bastard didn’t want to come out.
Yes, corks, a good tangible measure of the years pleasures.
According to the BBC nothing has happened in Australia for three days. Their Australia page hasn’t changed it’s headlines. Which also means that Tony Idiott still hasn’t said or done anything stupid.
Silly Box: In the French Alps 15,000 motorists are stranded in the snow. Come on, with today’s weather forecasting technology, you mean to tell me that wasn’t seen coming!
The chatterbox is unusually quiet today. She’s here, doing her thing, but she’s hardly said a word. Maybe that’s my Christmas present.
I was remended by a comment on yesterday’s post about babies of an old philosophical saying… “Men spend nine months trying to get out, and the rest of their lives trying to get back in…” so true. You have to thank Andrew for jogging me with that bit of nostalgia.
I shoulkd go and water the plants, with such a hot day promised, they will be starting their wilt sequence soon.
I should also keep my ears open for that aural trigger… BBQ!
Nothing like a BBQ to excite the neurons.