Back to you in the studio.

Dear television humanoids, please stop showing me weather reports all the time. For the love of all that is holy please stop! Neither I nor anyone else living in the 21st century has any use for them. Also, I have no idea what those little  arrows and lines on the map really mean. Is that the direction the weather is moving in? Isn't weather all around us all the time? Sort of like the Unitarian definition of God?

Weather used to play a huge part in the lives of everyday people. It dictated what you could do, and when you could do it. With little chance of escaping it. Man was subject to patterns of nature he couldn't quite understand. Over time we have tried to develop new ways of understanding weather systems and their causes. Doppler radar and incredibly complex computer models have given us small advances in our knowledge of these phenomena. But a modern person has no use for this information.

What the hell does any of this mean?

We live in houses, drive cars, wear proper clothing and work in climate controlled office buildings. A normal person does not spend hours a day outside exposed to the elements. That only happens if something has gone awry. Besides, chances are they won't remember what the weather man said this morning anyway. They were too busy trying to wash the vomits stains out of their dress socks. Big promotion coming up!

Unless it's a huge hurricane of shit heading my way it won't affect my life in any real way. And I think such an event would warrant a small segment of its own. Somewhere between the feel-good story of a kitten being rescued from a well and the sports results. I don't need to know the possible weather four days from now. For most of us simply looking out the window before deciding for or against wearing a jacket should suffice.

What's the weather going to be like tomorrow? More or less like yesterday. The earth won't suddenly start spinning backwards on its own axis. It's not going to start raining upwards. Hot won't be cold. And November is not going to be a pleasantly sunny month. Meteorology is mostly just guesswork in front of a green screen. Suit up and let's roll.

The Man, part 1.

On the bus. He could feel every contour of his face, every edge and protrusion. The skin was pulled more tightly over the bone and cartilage than usual. It often did that just after he had showered. The skin probably dried up somewhat. But who had time for lotions and ointments, really? It was more than enough work to brush each day. Flossing only occurred sporadically. When he remembered to remember. Not often enough according to his dentist. Screw that guy though, he had arm-hair covering his wrist watch. He may know about dental hygiene but who takes advice from a guy like that? And those kids in the framed pictures, let's just hope they're talented or something. He had gotten off the bus now, waiting for the next one. In that little glassy hut-like structure they call a bus stop. Smoking the first cigarette of the day as he stood there. Mulling over what he had heard about the nicotine in the cigarettes turning your fingers yellow he concluded;

"This is what yellow tastes like."

Do colours have tastes? If they did, yellow would no doubt taste like a morning cigarette in the rain. Did the cigarettes actually taste different while smoked on an early, rainy day? Or was it all in his head? In either case it was all real to him. That's what mattered, right now. Until he got to see her again. Finallly.