Who are those late night orators, keeping real and YouTube crowds from falling asleep? What work do they do and is it worthy of our respect? Should we succumb to the musings and quips of these observational scientists, irrelevant to our culture and irrelevant to our science? Beyond its cackles, laughs, chuckles and giggles, is comedy but an irrelevant escapade into obscurity and inconsequence?
I’ve now spent two months seeing gas priced per gallon and I still can’t tell whether it’s good value compared to back home. You tell me that it is 70 degrees outside and I agree that what you say seems plausible — I’ve realized that you are talking the Fahrenheit language. I suppose I’m lucky here in the States, coming from an English speaking country, that communication is somewhat easier for me than for those who have learned the language at a later stage of life. And often, when I see others or when I find myself lost in translation, I ask, will mankind ever standardize communication?
Half an hour waiting in a long, snaking queue, or a “line,” according to the jargon over here. There’s room inside and no hold up for checking identification. It’s close to eleven at night and not cold outside, so we’re not complaining, but we’re thinking we should already be on the dance-floor. “What’s the hold up?” I ask a doorman walking outside along the queue, thanking us for our patience.