I've been a bit introverted lately, not an unusual state for me but I'm just explaining the lack of entries here. At the age I'm reaching there is always the danger I have died.
Which reminds me of an irritation. Whereas I'm quite proud of almost being 69 I find no-one else is impressed. People only express congratulations when you've passed 90 these days. The goal posts have raised (I'm thinking of rugby aren't I?).
Sunday last we watched Red Sorghum, a Chinese film directed by Zhang Yimou and based on a novel by the nobel laureate Mo Yan. Afterwards I reeled back to my car in shock and that night I couldn't get to sleep. It started so well. Gentle humour. Life struggles overcome, the onset of prosperity and happiness. Then the Japanese invasion. If I had had any warning I might have braced myself but so often Japanese and Chinese films are gentle, beautiful, very full of images I want to retain. My host and film DJ confessed he didn't remember the violence. How could he forget. Anyway, either ignore this film or stop when the bad stuff starts if you are of a delicate dispsosition.
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