Urban rainforest
Sep. 7th, 2008 11:58 amSome say the world will end in fire, but they're wrong. The rain would put it out.
The world is a watercolour, and it will all be washed away in fading smudgy soggy streaks. Entropy is inherently wet.
In other news - but no, there is no other news. It is still raining. It always has rained; it always will have rained. Thou shalt not blaspheme against the rain, which is sempiternal. Which is the first time I have ever used that word, because I never had a use for it before. A thing may be eternal but have had an origin, a starting point, everlasting-from-here; the rain is not. In the beginning was the rain, and in fact it was already raining.
I was never religious before, but by thunder I believe in the rain.
I have been to shop, and not so much splashing through puddles as wading through lakes. Granted, I went across the moor: but the moor is full, like a sponge lifted out from the bath; it is leaking from every corner. The gutters have flooded the pavements. Courteous drivers occupy the high point of the camber, but not every driver is courteous; I would be wet from the armpit downwards, even if there wasn't the actual rain. I feel ... diluted; if my boots weren't waterproof, I would be dissolved entirely below the ankles.
What would be the elements, I wonder, of rain-worship? What would you actually do? Incense and candles and such are obviously out; but so I think are temples, in so far as they have roofs, which by definition deny the rain. I suppose there could be singing and dancing, tho' music would be difficult except for water-organs and the like. What else...?
The world is a watercolour, and it will all be washed away in fading smudgy soggy streaks. Entropy is inherently wet.
In other news - but no, there is no other news. It is still raining. It always has rained; it always will have rained. Thou shalt not blaspheme against the rain, which is sempiternal. Which is the first time I have ever used that word, because I never had a use for it before. A thing may be eternal but have had an origin, a starting point, everlasting-from-here; the rain is not. In the beginning was the rain, and in fact it was already raining.
I was never religious before, but by thunder I believe in the rain.
I have been to shop, and not so much splashing through puddles as wading through lakes. Granted, I went across the moor: but the moor is full, like a sponge lifted out from the bath; it is leaking from every corner. The gutters have flooded the pavements. Courteous drivers occupy the high point of the camber, but not every driver is courteous; I would be wet from the armpit downwards, even if there wasn't the actual rain. I feel ... diluted; if my boots weren't waterproof, I would be dissolved entirely below the ankles.
What would be the elements, I wonder, of rain-worship? What would you actually do? Incense and candles and such are obviously out; but so I think are temples, in so far as they have roofs, which by definition deny the rain. I suppose there could be singing and dancing, tho' music would be difficult except for water-organs and the like. What else...?