Sunday, January 25, 2009

I just found my notes from the Gleneagles, the G8 summit three years ago. In the same folder with my NHS cards and emmigration stuff, for some reason.

Tuesday, walking on the highway, not sure where. The hotel should be nearby. Nick is talking about the midges, Scotland's menace, little flies that never leave you alone. We are overheard by two robocops. One of them trying to be friendly, says, sure, when they get in my suit these midges, I'm fucked.
His mask is lifted, we can see his face. But his mate is keeping his mask on.

Friendly robocop says, look at them walking barefoot, I would step on a stone in two seconds and wouldn't be able to carry on.

The Spanish girl asks the masked robocop, why are you covering your face?
Eager robocop: you can talk with me, I don't have a mask.
She continues: when I cover my face you call it "anti social behaviour"
Masked roboco: no, Muslim women can cover their faces and that's fine.
Spanish girl: I'm Muslim, by the way. And I'm not talking with you cops.


sometimes, within the green, eplises of black mud, and white bright rocks, or mushrooms. And underneath everything, water, streams and rivers. The ground is drenched. The ground is water.

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