Stirling stuff
I am in Scotland where, as it turns out, the sun never sets on the Scots empire... or at least it takes a damn long time this far north and this close to midsummer. I had a very relaxing train journey where I managed to sort out some hard sums which had been bugging me for quite some time. One of those irritating problems where I knew the answer from about five minutes after first thinking about the problem but it took me ten hours of work (spread over about a month) to prove that it WAS the right answer).
I've also been cheered by W. H. Auden. Secondly by his splendidly crinkly face and discovering that in describing his own visage he came up with the phrase "like a cake left out in the rain" later used in the song McArthur Park and also by the B52s but firstly by his excellent poem "No use raising a shout" which I reproduce (probably illegally) the first two verses below.
IT'S NO USE RAISING A SHOUT (By W.H. Auden)
It's no use raising a shout.
No, Honey, you can cut that right out.
I don't want any more hugs;
Make me some fresh tea, fetch me some rugs.
Here am I, here are you;
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?
It wasn't always like this?
Perhaps it wasn't, but it is.
Put the car away; when life fails,
What's the good of going to Wales?
Here am I, here are you;
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?
---
The poem continues but I only really like those verses and the ending.
I first came across the poem in, of all things, the intro to a government report on transport policy, in specific in the context of reducing car use and encouraging bus and train journeys which is a marvellously optimistic way to interpret the text.
I've also been cheered by W. H. Auden. Secondly by his splendidly crinkly face and discovering that in describing his own visage he came up with the phrase "like a cake left out in the rain" later used in the song McArthur Park and also by the B52s but firstly by his excellent poem "No use raising a shout" which I reproduce (probably illegally) the first two verses below.
IT'S NO USE RAISING A SHOUT (By W.H. Auden)
It's no use raising a shout.
No, Honey, you can cut that right out.
I don't want any more hugs;
Make me some fresh tea, fetch me some rugs.
Here am I, here are you;
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?
It wasn't always like this?
Perhaps it wasn't, but it is.
Put the car away; when life fails,
What's the good of going to Wales?
Here am I, here are you;
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?
---
The poem continues but I only really like those verses and the ending.
I first came across the poem in, of all things, the intro to a government report on transport policy, in specific in the context of reducing car use and encouraging bus and train journeys which is a marvellously optimistic way to interpret the text.