tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post4426306089926542157..comments2023-10-03T11:41:21.191+01:00Comments on The Truth About Lies: #638Jim Murdochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-82027976516879652262016-05-19T04:29:17.351+01:002016-05-19T04:29:17.351+01:00I thought the link would help, Kass. I’m afraid I ...I thought the link would help, <b>Kass</b>. I’m afraid I love everything idiomatic, euphemistic and metaphorical. I guess it’s the poet in me. And the Scot. I remember once when I was still with F. we had an American over for a meal. I can’t remember who or why but the poor man spent all his time repeating the phrase, “Excuse me?” over and over. He just couldn’t understand us and it wasn’t just the accents. We were talking a foreign language. Even his excuse-me’s amused the hell out of us. If we were to use the expression it’d be to send it up in an affected tone.Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-39227351463405341832016-05-18T16:02:26.714+01:002016-05-18T16:02:26.714+01:00...five minutes of "how's your father?......five minutes of "how's your father?'...Anglophenia? Being misunderstood? A little lost here...<br /><br />Conversation might ruin the allure?Kasshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05233330248952156754noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-16886773774530177142016-05-02T14:45:30.573+01:002016-05-02T14:45:30.573+01:00I think part of the problem is language, Kass. We ...I think part of the problem is language, <b>Kass</b>. We create artificial constructs like ‘depression’ and then wonder why no two depressive are ever alike. I used to be a terrible one for crushes—my daughter tells me she’s the same—and I guess that’s basically what I had with B. Was there a sexual component? Undoubtedly. She was an attractive woman and your body doesn’t have any sense of morality or propriety or even common sense; it wants what it wants. One of my favourite films is <i>The Man Who Loved Women</i> (the 1977 original by François Truffaut). It was a film that made so much sense to me because it was about love and not sex. Yes, he has sex with a lot of women and I would’ve too if I’d been brought up in a different society and without the burden of religious guilt weighing me down but the film wasn’t called <i>The Man Who Screwed Women</i> and for a very good reason. Would I have liked to have slept with B.? Yes. But not especially her. What was special about her wasn’t her features or her lovely breasts—she did have lovely breasts—but the fact she triggered poetry in me; I wasn’t going to risk losing that for five minutes of <a href="http://www.bbcamerica.com/anglophenia/2011/09/frasers-phrases-hows-your-father" rel="nofollow">how’s your father?</a> We like to think we’re complex creatures but the most complex machines on the planet are still driven by primal forces like electricity, magnetism, steam or combustion.Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-36803051764216523952016-05-01T15:34:56.788+01:002016-05-01T15:34:56.788+01:00Interesting poem and personal thoughts. I wonder w...Interesting poem and personal thoughts. I wonder why our sexual desires have to be the measuring stick (pardon the pun) of relationships. Is it like Harry said in <i>When Harry Met Sally</i>, "...yeh, men and women can be friends, but the man pretty much wants to nail her." (paraphrasing)?<br /><br />I love several men and I don't want to have sex with them, but I think the energy and passion for the relationship comes from the same place in the body that sexual desire does.Kasshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05233330248952156754noreply@blogger.com