Many peoples of North Africa migrate within their buildings in both daily and seasonal patterns to take advantage of the various microclimates the buildings create.
The real world of technology denies the existence and the reality of nature. For instance, there is little sense of season as one walks through a North American or western European supermarket.
Just as there is a little sense of season, there is little sense of climate. Everything possible is done to equalize the ambiance – to construct and environment that is warm in the winter, cool in the summer.
I am fascinated by the Farmer’s Almanac, and the “Planting by the Moon” guide in particular, which has advice such as: “Root crops that can be planted now will yield well.” “Good days for killing weeds.” “Good days for transplanting.” “Barren days. Do no planting.”
I think it’d be funny to make up an almanac for writers and artists, one that emphasized the never-ending, repetitive work of the craft.
Is there anyone out there?
Or am I all alone?
It wouldn’t make a difference
Still, I don’t wanna know
I thought it’d be over by now
But I got a while to go
I’d give away the ending
But you don’t wanna kn-
Could I interest you in everything all of the time?
A little bit of everything all of the time
Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime
Anything and everything all of the time
You say the ocean's rising like I give a shit
You say the whole world's ending, honey, it already did
You're not gonna slow it, Heaven knows you tried
Got it? Good, now get inside
Are you feeling nervous? Are you having fun?
It's almost over, it's just begun
Don't overthink this, look in my eye
Don't be scared, don't be shy
Come on in, the water's fine
If I wake up in a house that's full of smoke
I'll panic, so call me up and tell me a joke
When I'm fully irrelevant and totally broken, damn it
Call me up and tell me a joke
Oh, shit
You're really joking at a time like this?