Saturday, April 16, 2005

Hot! Hot! Hot!

Let me talk about the heat.

Now, by Memphis standards, yes, maybe it isn't all that hot. But, and maybe I need more emphasis here, B-U-T, for someone who came here from Ireland, where summer is the 2 weeks when it doesn't rain quite as much, this weather is proving damn hot. I lay on the futon today in a godawful sweat, feeling like Kurtz in Heart of Darkness, "The horror! The horror!" and then, rather un-Kurtz-like, I issued a plaintive cry pointed in another direction, "The air-con! The air-con!"

But no Joy. No air-con.

The apartment block is full of old people. There's nothing wrong with that, we're all growing old, supposedly (Philip K Dick believed that The Great Secret is that we're actually moving backwards in Time), and Lord knows, these old people have done nothing to harm me. BUT, it seems to be that the risk of upsetting their frail bodies with a quick switch from BAKING HOT to PLEASINGLY COOL is causing Extreme Unction to thrash around like a madman. I'll be hallucinating by tomorrow, and, being six floors up, I hope none of them feature rope ladders hanging from the balcony.

So, in the gathering twilight, and with the last of my strength, I now appeal to the Higher Powers

Prayer for the Air-con to be switched on

Oh! Lord! Hear me!
Hear my prayer!
As the sweat glistens on my forehead
So the pain gathers in my heart
For I wish to complete my good works
And win your favour
But I cannot move
O! Wise creator
Due to the searing conditions
And my absent landlord
Please! O fabulous One
whose very Will moves mountains
and makes worlds crack
who designed the beasties
and let them loose
in sea
in air
and on the land
Take pity as I roast
and spare me the Infernal Fate
of being a Human Baked Potato
and wave your divine arm as only you can
and do something to the Landlord's mind
give it a jolt
nothing too heavy
that he shall throw the switch
and save me from Heat Death
O Lord!
Grant me this
and I promise
I will try and stop swearing and sinning
as much
as usual


Blogger Amy said...

Good luck with your air con. I'm sitting here watching an item on ebay with a heater on!!!! heheheehe! I don't envy you. xxxx

4:12 AM  
Blogger anan said...

No atheists in foxholes, i see.

Now try living in Saudi Arabia full time, and see what prayers you get up to!

8:07 AM  
Blogger kingfelix said...

now, saudis were dropping like flies during a hot London summer a few years back, as they are 1)used to air-conditioning 2) not used to cramped London streets or the joys of the underground!

the british approach is to panic buy fans whenever it gets hot rather than plan ahead.

*the prayer was just a spoof, EU doesn't pray*

12:10 PM  
Blogger Ian said...

Your reference to Mr. Kurtz reminded me of the added scenes in the "Redux" version of Apocalypse Now, which interestingly features Kurtz reading from "The Hollow Men" (which of course has the epigraph, "Mistah Kurtz -- he dead") and also shows clips of his desk adorned with copies of The Wasteland and Other Poems, along with From Ritual To Romance by Jessie Weston. It appears that the sweltering heat, despite its horrors, may be conducive to the study of Eliot -- just a suggestion for how to pass the sweaty time.

10:53 PM  
Blogger kingfelix said...

it remains one of the big holes for someone with my tastes that i have yet to see Apocalypse Now...

i've been reading Nelson Algren, Never Come Morning. what does it say about my relationship to these books, that i sit there and read all this grit about playing dice under Division Street and life above poolrooms. then i sit down and turn out, I, Beastie

maybe it was a reaction. the inner lives in the Algren books can be frustrating, i think that's the point. i've concluded that beyond A Walk on the Wild Side, i'm not as interested as i thought in what he wrote down.

11:44 PM  

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