The only sad thing about burning things is that you can't burn them again.

I know, it's been a while since I updated. Too long, but in my defense, I don't owe you a defense.

On November 5th, a funny thing happens in the little town of Lewes. Lewes used to be the capital of Sussex, and therefore has a castle. But as the days pass we little men move on, and so has happened to Lewes, now only a town of about 10,000. One thing remains, however, they remember to burn things.



On November 5th, 1605 a plot to blow up Parliament was foiled. Surrounded by 26 of his favorite barrels of gunpowder Guy Fawkes was arrested. He was tortured and then executed. To celebrate, bonfires were lit across the country. Lewes, still remembers.





It also remembers to dress up eight year olds as pirates and get them to run around with torches. Frankly, I'm not sure how the costumes are involved, but it was magnificent. "Poppers", which amount to cherry bombs were tossed about as if sprinkling a cake. Bonfires 3 or 4 stories high were lit aflame because it's a fucking blast...err...I mean the king...safety.














All I know, is that if I ever have a boy, when he turns eight, I'm bringing him to Lewes, dressing him up like a pirate, handing him fire on a stick, and letting him run off to do what men must do.








Again, I apologize for the latency in this post, it took me a while to figure out how to type with my new finger boards.

Shiny

Brighton is pretty. Especially now as the leaves are turning. I've been busy as usual and it's frankly hard to imagine that I've been here for a month already. Kind of nuts really. Only eleven more of those and I'll be returning to the States. Whether I'm returning as an abject failure or not doesn't really matter. America doesn't judge on such transient means, no, America knows that I was born there and thus deserve to be there. I'll be handed a cheeseburger, lose the ability to move the left side of my body, and I'll know I'm home. Am Happy. You and me both Mr. Hopkins, you and me both.

Hmm...that started well. Try again. I'm busily trying to research and come up with grand essay ideas for a couple of my classes. We have pretty much free reign to decide what interests us, and then we can pursue that. Which, is pretty f-ing awesome. Full steam ahead.

Anyway, for captions. Leaves changing on campus. Some of the shops around Brighton. The white cliffs surrounding Brighton Marina. View of campus from atop the hill I can see from my room.

Do you think the decorations should have decorations? I'm torn.

It has been gorgeous weather on every day but the weekends since I got here, but no more! I went down to the city center yesterday and took pictures of the Royal Pavilion (the important, famous building that looks really out of place). That picture was taken out of misplaced social dogma.


Take pictures of the big weird building and then you can say that you took a bit of it back with you, and are ironically less weird for it.
The mummified cat requires no such inbred idolatry. And I love her for it. Isobel, you always knew your innards would go in a jar, your life essence guarded by the concubines of the underworld.

And while I circled the Ancient Egyptian section of the museum like a fat kid a lolly, I picked up other equally irrelevant information.

The actual pretty pictures of the city will come soon!

Do I get into heaven if I at least take pictures of Humanitarians?

I figure, at least I appreciate it right?

So, I went down to the marina to do some grocery shopping, but it was such a beautiful day(I forgot my camera so these pictures are of a different day) that I decided to sit beside the sea for a while. Two couples soon wandered from the city onto the beach in front of me. One was particularly amusing. The man, as soon as he stepped onto the pebbled beach, proceeded to leave his girl and march with a determination that refused distraction. Upon reaching the edge of the sea, he picked up an average size rock and heaved it as far as he could. With that accomplished he turned his attention back to his gal, who was stumbling toward him in the latest fashion. Not only was the fashion unsuitable to the environment, the girl's physic would have been bested served if she never had to lift a fork to her mouth, lest muscle be built.

The girl then asked the guy to take a picture of her. He did. She then requested that he get her good side, with the sun. He did. They then both requested one of the other friends to take a picture of them both smooching by the sea. The girl did, as the other guy was off somewhere, presumably throwing rocks at something larger than himself.

After that I decided to finish my reading with "A unifying computational framework for motor control and social interaction."

I suppose the story is from the perspective of the narrator. So it very easily could have gone, "There was this guy trying to read 'A unifying computation framework for motor control and social interaction' but he just sat there imagining coming in first place of the universe in rock throwing.

From up here, I can see even more of that hill.

Now that I've settled in a little bit, the pictures will begin. I live right next to a huge park and recreation area which has cattle grazing. Apparently you're free to sit in these fields with the cattle, or walk on the trails right outside the fences. I imagine I'll return with the skills to start a successful career as a cow psychic.



"He says...he'd like to continue to stand right here."

The building in this picture if of my dorm room. The field is about a 4 minute walk. And the sunset is from my window.



I have yet to go to Brighton Pier, though the ocean is only four miles from me. I will...but today I find myself trying to setup a phone and waiting back for the details to an interview I have as a research assistant.

They did it, but Mr. Webster published it.

So I officially left my job, and with it a tootsie roll that I kept on my desk for four years. A colleague of mine was giving them out for Christmas and as soon as he handed me one I laughed heartily and placed it lovingly next to my monitor, a reminder of colloquial communication. In all my years though, I never got so much as a smirk from anyone who saw it.

Come on!!

With
4a: used as a function word to indicate combination, accompaniment, presence, or addition. heat milk with honey. Helping people with Mental Retardation
6a: used as a function word to indicate the means, cause, agent, or instrumentality. hit him with a rock. Helping people with Mental Retardation

Mind the historically propelled cultural backlog.

I've arrived!! And with my devotion to bring you effervescence in concentrate, I must wonder. When the Pied Piper lured all those rats and children away from Hamelin (thanks Wikipedia), I bet they were all like, "Dude, this place that we're going to is going to be awwwesome." And then they got there. I wonder what song each of us hears.

Now, the above paragraph could be assumed to relate to my first couple of days in Brighton...but that's not really the case. Mostly it was that as soon as I typed "I've arrived", I wondered if it was what all those rats said as soon as they reached their destination. Why I wondered that is a concern all of its own, but not yours, so I'll continue.

So I went to the housing porter yesterday to request the purchase of bedding.
Me: Hi, I was wondering if I could buy some bedding.
Porter: Yeah sure, speak with that lady over there. (Points to a lady of sixty sitting about five feet from us.)
(I shift five feet over.)
Me: Hi, I was looking for some bedding.
Lady: Well I can certainly help a young man with some bedding.
Assistant standing next to the lady: God, stop saying that. He's looking to buy some bedding.
Lady: Well I'm just saying. *hands me the form.*

I've arrived!!