Saturday, October 27, 2007
They Must Adore Me
Comin' at ya live from Buenos Aires. BA. Tangoville, U.S.A. (The
"S.A." stands for South Americaaaaa! [U.K.!]) The Dirty 'Nos. You know
what I'm talking about. Well, another day, another excruciatingly long
flight. Luckily this time I had a window seat (actually having a wall
to lean against is a major blessing for those such as myself whose
height makes it impossible for a standard airplane chair to provide
any sort of head support) and the legal antics of Phoenix Wright, Ace
Attorney, to get me through. Flying over South America, I have come to
one conclusion: it looks a lot like the Midwest. Seriously, it's all
rectangular fields of alternating green and beige. Except that down
there, they're all speaking Spanish. Insane xenophobic pundits, here
is a chilling vision of Ohio to come! The area around Buenos Aires is
rather heavily developed, however, and the city itself most certainly
gets its sprawl on. I would liken it to if someone took a major
European city circa 1961, let it go fallow and sorta be taken over by
jungle, and then completely repopulated it. The infrastructure's
there, but dammit, you can't walk five feet without the sidewalk being
rent asunder by some confounded banyan roots! (Incidentally, making
wandering around IN THE RAIN with heavy luggage a total pain. Oh,
yeah, regarding the weather, it was gorgeous clear skies, 76 degrees
when I touched down, but when I got out of work it was cold and
pouring [Geoffrey's] cats and [bush] dogs.) Speaking of cats, at least
in the part of the city I'm in, feral cats are at Ernest Hemingwayan
levels of infestation. Another infestation: graffiti. Everywhere, on
everything. With weird tags like "Morlok [sic] Rock" and "Bela
Lugosi". Also, the Argentine primaries are next week, so along with
flyers up everywhere for the ten presidential candidates, there's also
tons of political graffiti of the "Vote for Cristina for presidente"
variety. Fun fact: in Buenos Aires, everywhere, at every time, someone
can be heard making a coyote call. Ow ow ow! ("Count your chickens,
Coyote's on the prowl!")
Comin' at ya live from Buenos Aires. BA. Tangoville, U.S.A. (The
"S.A." stands for South Americaaaaa! [U.K.!]) The Dirty 'Nos. You know
what I'm talking about. Well, another day, another excruciatingly long
flight. Luckily this time I had a window seat (actually having a wall
to lean against is a major blessing for those such as myself whose
height makes it impossible for a standard airplane chair to provide
any sort of head support) and the legal antics of Phoenix Wright, Ace
Attorney, to get me through. Flying over South America, I have come to
one conclusion: it looks a lot like the Midwest. Seriously, it's all
rectangular fields of alternating green and beige. Except that down
there, they're all speaking Spanish. Insane xenophobic pundits, here
is a chilling vision of Ohio to come! The area around Buenos Aires is
rather heavily developed, however, and the city itself most certainly
gets its sprawl on. I would liken it to if someone took a major
European city circa 1961, let it go fallow and sorta be taken over by
jungle, and then completely repopulated it. The infrastructure's
there, but dammit, you can't walk five feet without the sidewalk being
rent asunder by some confounded banyan roots! (Incidentally, making
wandering around IN THE RAIN with heavy luggage a total pain. Oh,
yeah, regarding the weather, it was gorgeous clear skies, 76 degrees
when I touched down, but when I got out of work it was cold and
pouring [Geoffrey's] cats and [bush] dogs.) Speaking of cats, at least
in the part of the city I'm in, feral cats are at Ernest Hemingwayan
levels of infestation. Another infestation: graffiti. Everywhere, on
everything. With weird tags like "Morlok [sic] Rock" and "Bela
Lugosi". Also, the Argentine primaries are next week, so along with
flyers up everywhere for the ten presidential candidates, there's also
tons of political graffiti of the "Vote for Cristina for presidente"
variety. Fun fact: in Buenos Aires, everywhere, at every time, someone
can be heard making a coyote call. Ow ow ow! ("Count your chickens,
Coyote's on the prowl!")
Comments:
Curse you, Mr. Kammerer! I ought to be in Buenos Aires, and you ought to be in this stupid cubicle. :/
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