Thursday, May 25, 2017

Almost there

Gorgeous day, although it clearly was the wrong kind of sunlight on the tracks as the train crawled into London.

The train dragging and stopping in South London. Almost finished Why Philosophize? by Jean-Fran├žois Lyotard. A collection of lectures to freshmen, and for a French postmodernist philosopher, fairly easy to understand – and disagree with. My philosophical and ideas reading at the moment has a bit of purpose. Postmoderism contributed to the post truth world we find ourselves in, by undermining notions of truth, and by basically saying everything is relative and it depends on whose truth you are talking about. Of course there is a great deal of sense in this viewpoint, but the transition from that position to the one we are now in is interesting.

 Penultimate day shambolic. Workflow for Keith and I is either slack or maniacal. A series of websites Keith and I had put together and delivered last week, were finally reviewed mid afternoon today, and we received a world of comments to be implemented by close of play for an important client presentation, along with the other urgent work we were doing for the same presentation. However because we worked so rapidly and sorted everything without having to stay more than an hour or two late. Why it was only possible to review this hours before we had to deliver it is a mystery. Sloped out, tired but skippy and relieved. One more day of this BS.

Bought a 330cl can of IPA at St Pancras for a pricey £3.50 and found a train was only minutes away. Sat in near-empty faux first, and listened to The Power and The Glory by Graham Greene, which I’ve been listening to off and on in the last week or so. I’m not enjoying it as much as I thought I would. I really rate Greene. I think his book The End of The Affair is a masterpiece. Texting Betty who had spent the day as an extra on Holby City, leaving at 5am, and most of that sitting around topping up her tan. She would have caught the same train as me, but her connecting one was delayed at Mill Hill.

A blue sky with a big dirty smear of smoke over the downs from some fire near Lewes, which drifted over Brighton. Lorraine at home, and tired having done animation workshops for kids in local schools, and then taught music in the afternoon, as well as dealing with all the usual headteachery stuff. We watered the garden at sundown together. One more day.

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