Re: body english

um, yeah...

so listen, i'm just back and really beat. alas, climbing is interfering with my posting. time to work on my priorities i guess. and in a couple hours i'll be out of here, as Lupo et all are due soon. i gotta pack. by time you read this, we'll have successfully invaded your country. back in a couple weeks. or never. till then, blessed silence -- as the only geekery i plan on doing involves actual chickens.
~~~

that said, i'll leave you with this:

[a] you are of course right, my lekker brother -- at least on
all those points we just happen to agree on. which, in this case, just
accidentally happens to be pretty much all of them.

in fairness to 'Dave' -- who i twice watched climb (at a polite distance) but to date have never actually met (for dave is a serious and
busy guy. me, i'm neither) -- i not only dared to pluck just a select wad while i ruminated on something else, but 'ellipses'd' it to my whim.

ellipses are evil and poisonous tools of rhetoric. a sufficiently evil and skilled rhetorician could easily ellipsate(?) the Sermon On The Mount into something akin to the murderous ramblings of Pol Pot. the inquisitions and the current glut of 'martyrs' apparently quite comfortable with strapping land mines wrapped in rusty nuts and bolts to their chests then slaughtering a bus load of innocent children (itself a redundancy) demonstrates that not only can this be done, it's long been done routinely.

(if the Y chromosomes expect 20 virgins, what do their dos equiis sisters expect? the same in reverse? huh. there's all of 4 minutes of sloppy bumbling tedium. even more imponderable).

but i digress, and don't really have time for it just now. leather or plastic? leather.

big screws or little screws? big screws.
~~~

without the ellipsis and blatant paragraph mangling of my frankenquote, brother Macleod ends his essay like this:

then maybe you can say it was lack of strength or fitness.

In this way you can avoid wasting your time. If you don’t pay attention
to technique and tactics you could end up working hard on endurance
for a decade but still failing to realise the improvements you could
have had in 6 months if you had perfected good tactics.

In summary, think hard about what the real limitations are, then work
hard to sort them out. The working hard part will always be easier
than the thinking part. Don’t lose sight of the big picture;
all the aspects discussed above interact to make you the climber
you are. The most important aspect should always be having fun.

"The working hard part will always be easier than the thinking part."
-- which is to say that 'Dave' clearly agrees with you, brother Lekker.
and as such he clearly did not intend for his work to be used as a
half-witted send up to a bit of lame Lupo baiting. still more evidence
that i truly do suck at both parts of his equation.

so, uh, yeah. you're right. so is he.
~~~

big pack or little pack? little pack. (that way i can say "oh i'd love to carry all that extra stupid ***, but alas my 30l bag is chock full.)

chalk bag? ummm.
~~~

hmmm. your response, albeit thoughtful, didn't exactly make me pee
myself with laughter and hence run for a diaper change. instead it made me feel like a *** (who owed D Macleod an apology for vivisecting his
work).

ah, but that too counts as reason for a diaper change. i just didn't quite see it playing out this way. well, as my magnificent grandfather used to say 'if everything worked the first time, we'd never learn anything.' so sure, you win.

so, what did my local legion of ne'er do wells ID as my pre-flight
peccadillo? well, they claim (unanimously) that, apparently, i sing.

and no, not witty word plays on pertinent sly lyrics. nor manly and hard charging R&B riffs. nah, i'm told that i sing what sound like children's' lullabies.

i denied this vehemently, but they remained quite adamant as a group on this front. and upon some reflection, i had to admit this was almost kinda true.

only they're not lullabies, they're old sea shanties. and no, of course i can't sing my way out of a wet paper sack any better then i can climb my way out of a wet paper sack. worse, actually, if you can imagine that.

though i would argue that, unlike Lupo's "Mystery Dance," my occasional
warblings do not have an invariable 1:1 correlation with unplanned rope
stretch. for occasionally my peccadillo actually works. for while i never planned it with that goal in mind, or planned it at all, i suspect that it clears my head, calms my breathing, and in all helps me relax a bit. and in that gives my fingers and toes a chance to do what they know how to do if i just get out of their way long enough to give them a chance. for my fingers and toes don't like my endless mental prattle any more than our Lord Slime does.

blueys? just a couple. it's a long drive and i need sleep; but i wouldn't want to explain any excess if the mounties are actually awake at the border.
~~~

but this raises the upside of bad body english, which is good body english. this too i've seen. on occasion even experienced. forever ago i watched a tennis match on somebody's television machine. i'm no tennis guy, but even i could see that this swedish guy was getting his ass handed to him. completely humiliated. it was just about over and they were all but rolling the credits, when suddenly the swedish guy put his head in his hands for a really time. then he stomped one foot down, then the other. plated them. then he slowly rolled his head around on his neck like it was a swivel. then he stared hard at the other guy who was trouncing him and nodded that he was ready to get hammered by yet another serve.

and well, in the next 30 minutes or so he didn't miss a ball. it seemed he just couldn't miss. he didn't even seem to be working especially hard. he just always happened to be in precisely the right place for the incoming shot. and then he'd swat the living *** out of the ball and absolutely smoke the other guy. the crowd didn't even cheer, they just sat there with jaws dropped and their tongues hanging out. the other guy worked his ass off, but to no avail. eventually he just shook his head with his jaw dropped and tongue out.

soon enough some is handing the swede a big trophy and he's just standing there with staring out into infinity. moments later, some suit was interviewing him, and he said "i jhust decided i vas ready. and den, de ball got bigger and bigger, and vent slower unt slower. it all became easy, play for children. i couldn't miss. i vas ready.'
then he just walked away.

i don't know the guys name, but i like him. and i learned something from him. well, at least a rough compass direction.
~~~

ok, time get 'ready'


ttfn,


^,,^




~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Don't mind the rain or the rolling sea
The weary night never worries me
But the hardest time in a sailor's day
Is to watch the sun as it dies away
Here's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line"
-from a sea shanty your dog especially likes. i much recommend Maddy Prior and June Tabor's take on it. check it out. better yet, try it on.
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