Sinister: Heat. And not the good kind, either

Jay Eckard jayeckard at xxx.com
Wed Jun 12 06:59:30 BST 2002


You know, it's 2 o'clock in the morning here and still 85 degrees. By 10 am, 
it'll be 95+ and 90+% humidity. That's damn hot. And it's going to be like 
this through till October.
I'm not quite sure what that is metric.
But the heat is oppressive: it's like a force down on you as soon as you 
walk outside. It's not like you can enjoy being outside, you soak through 
whatever you're wearing and keel over from heat stroke. The humidity is so 
bad that as you walk outside, your glasses fog over. Pools are no fun 
because they're warmer than blood.
It's the South for you, not the polite world of Truman Capote or Harper Lee, 
but the harsh reality of William Faulkner.
Sorry, but after two and a half decades, the heat's getting to me.

Decent B&S content:

Nobody in Belle and Sebastian ever seems to mention the heat, do they? I 
thought about this today while a fat woman decided between ordering biscuits 
and cornbread.

The closest I could think was one or two lines in I Know Where the Summer 
Goes, but it wasn't really suffering from heat. But I haven't heard 
Storytelling yet.

Any thoughts?

Jay
--
"Knowing? That's easy. Everyone does that ad nasueum.
I just sort of hope."
   Dr. Who

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