Droves of nothing

Ooof. Up at seven this morning, rather blearily with an idea for a new play. But all such matters had to be set aside as I spent the cold rainy Monday writing about atrial fibrillation and strokes again. Nothing happened in droves during the day, and at 5:15 I went for a walk for an hour or so having been cooped up.

Found myself wandering into the pier, all the attractions closed and a few cold looking tourists on it. Spent a happy ten minutes watching two men in a small rubber dinghy spinning unsuccessfully for mackerel.

Home again, watched a documentary about the history of Ireland, then did more atrial fibrillation work, before watching All Watched Over By Machines Of Loving Grace. This is a very provocative and interesting documentary series. Among the other ideas it propounded was that it is dehumanising to think of ourselves as machines designed to transmit DNA (the selfish gene). Also that as an unexpected outcome DNA can be seen as a soul correlate, cut to Dawkins talking about the prehistoric inheritance of DNA. It also suggests that to make war on those who are considered genetically disparate is inbuilt in us. Reasoning a bit impressionistic here and there, but still fascinating.

Below the weekend's dodgems looking like discarded slippers.

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