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//possible mood trigger(rant)//
I will not forgive—nor pretend to forgive the politicians and businessmen of past and present for driving the climate to it’s current state of crisis. When they burn I will laugh and sing to their ashes like sweet summer snow. When their ancestors groan in wrath at their greed and self-interest I will fan the flames of damnation. If I have to listen to one more bourgeois talk about the world dying from their pedestal of diamonds gold and history of slavery I will scream. I will not live a dystopian life and I will not tolerate this blind, stupid, greed we as a people are being faced with. You may lament to your song but do not dare stand aside in idle desperation. This is not a march to war and death, this is a fight for justice and hope, survival and love. Fingers were made to be pointed but not singularly for we are all at fault, we put our trust in our governments, our politicians, and our companies to save us. They have failed. Nothing lasts forever, that is true in both a physical and metaphysical sense, but the joys of living were made to be shared by all, no matter your religion or lack thereof. Now we dance while the music still goes on, but what happens when silence sets on the land and evening falls? The end.
2
Mood right now: from minute 0:32.
Un po’ meno, un po’ meno | A little less, a little less
Basta adesso, basta! | enough now, stop!
Basta acqua, basta! | enough water, stop!
BASTA BAAASTAAAA!! | STOP STOOOOP!!
17
On November 22nd in the year 1210 AD Perth was severely hit by floods.
I sometimes pick up scraps of information and attempt to build a post around it, one of the interesting facts I discovered is that the Tay discharges more fresh water than any other river in the British Isles, equal to the Thames and the Severn combined. When the snows melt, enormous flows can be released of up to 7 million tonnes per hour.
The little we know about the floods 8009 years ago are taken from The Historical Works, William I., the Lion (1165-1214), King of Scotland. This historical book goes through notable years, not every year but selected that gives us snippets about William’s reign, it tells us that in the year 1210…..
“….the town of Perth was wholly taken away with the great inundation of the rivers Tay and Almond; from which King William, with his Grace the Prince, and his brother David, Earl of Huntingdon, very narrowly escaped by boat; for all which there was, notwithstanding, a son of King William’s and his nurse drowned, the 22nd of November, 1210.”
I’ve had a wee look on wiki and there is no mention of another son, other than Alexander, who became Alexander II, but who am I to question this!
Another source says the Royal Castle that once stood at Perth was destroyed in the floods, and….
“Heavy rain, spring tide. Perth: wooden bridge destroyed. Half of Perth swept away. The King’s son and at least 14 others perished.” The castle was never replaced and from what I can remember when the Royals visited Perth from then on they stayed at the Blackfriars’ monastery, which is where James I was murdered in 1437.
Floods would again hit the town in October 1621, when on October 14th "Br of Perth destroyed. Perth surrounded by water for 5-6 days.“
Perth has suffered 34 recorded floods between 1209/1210 and 1993, delving into things further since then they were hit again in 2010.
William died at Stirling in 1214 at the grand old age of 71 and was buried at Arbroath Abbey, which he himself had founded, he had the second-longest reign in Scottish history.23
I’m constantly surprised to see reporters taken out of nice warm tv studios and placed into areas of impending storms and reporting to camera whilst tethered to a falling tree.
The fact they’re sent into areas where everyone else is being evacuated seems bizarre.
Many they interview are loading their vehicles and taking their irreplaceable belongings, like photographs, jewellery and mementos whilst others deliberate which things would best fit into their cars, their pets or their children?
I started wondering what I would do and which possessions I would take.
If warned in advance, I’d sort through my wardrobe and take some clothes to the local charity shop, which they could either display or place at the bottom of their door to use like sandbags to stop them getting flooded too.
Realising that a hammer, nails and wooden panels offer no defence against a hurricane, I’d spent a day encasing my flat in a concrete block.
I’d take all drinks, tins of non-perishable food, a can opener and the terms of my tenancy agreement to belatedly study references for legitimate use of concrete.
I’d have my phone to use Google Maps in case the whole area is flooded and I can’t see any road signs or familiar landmarks as I paddle around in the canoe and life-jacket I bought from Aldi when I went in to buy milk last April.
I’d take my laptop because if I got canoe-wrecked, I could write a blog. I’ve no idea how Robinson Crusoe did that when he didn’t have a biro. I sometimes think he didn’t get shipwrecked at all but simply disappeared into his garden shed for years and made up the whole sob-story because he just wanted people to feel sorry for him? Charlatan.
When the storm passes and I’ve finally jack-hammered my way through the concrete and into my flat, I’d say hello to my fiancée, see how’s she’s been getting on and ask if she’s missed me and all the food?0
