To the British Museum, via the Vets Head, of which more anon.
Pen on oil, various hands, circa 2014. Or, if you prefer a more stringent test of your cultural levels, try to identify the provenance of this:
The main theme for today’s visit was Defining beauty: the body in ancient Greek art which was interesting, and confirms for me that the older I get and the more I know about other, particularly antient, cultures, the more I realise how little I understand what they can possibly have been thinking. Eventually, when I’m really old, I’ll realise I’ve never understood anyone else at all.
For <reasons> we ended up walking through more of London that usual, which lead me to realise how weird London is, too.
Here’s St Pauls, from Waterloo bridge; and while the overall scene is pleasing in the fitful sunlight, some of the modern buildings are astonishingly stupid. Its like tasteless aliens have dropped giant blocks of Lego on the unsuspecting city. Their architects should be hung from the overhanging sides. Speaking of which, there’s a lovely relief in the BM with giant Assyrian archers, a badly drawn siege engine, appalling perspective on a ladder, and some impaled captives. And, according to the caption, juggling with cut-off heads; but I couldn’t see that.
Lastly, I quite wanted to write about Removing Diurnal Cycle Contamination in Satellite-Derived Tropospheric Temperatures: Understanding Tropical Tropospheric Trend Discrepancies by Stephen Po-Chedley, Tyler J. Thorsen, and Qiang Fu; but I don’t have the paper (h/t Ned; yes I know about SS but I want to read the paper). Anyone? [Updated: its here; my thanks to DA.]
And, errm, lastly again, a snippet from Wolf Hall:
I tell you, Cromwell, you’ve got face, coming here.
My Lord, you sent for me.
Did I? Norfolk looks alarmed. It’s come to that?