Very sad to hear that the playwright NF Simpson has died. Though six months ago I had been surprised to find out that he was still alive. Which makes it a double blow. He wrote stuff that influenced Peter Cook and Monty Python and thus pretty much all modern British comedy. We did a shortened version of one of his plays "A Resounding Tinkle" at school and then I did a one act version of it in my first term at University. He bides his time who's stuck knee-deep in lime. RIP NF.
Here's a promo which will tell you a bit about him. Check out his stuff if you can.
I managed to fight off tiredness and we went out and did some stuff this afternoon, driving round the lake to
Aira Force Waterfalls. It was good to be out and about walking through the woodland that had inspired Wordsworth (though what's he done lately? And all he did was notice some daffodils. He was the Peter Kay of his day). We went beyond the main falls and I found a probably previously undiscovered path that was blocked by some bracken, that took us up to some minor falls and pools probably never seen before by humanity. Though I was lucky because ten minutes later some other tourists came by - they were like Scott to my Amundsen. We lolled (in the old sense - any laughter was internalised) by the pools, watching the water cascading down rocks, wild and explosive, then become almost instantaneously still, then churn over another ledge and downwards. How lovely to be able to sit and watch the world. I marvelled at the way water had cut this swathe through the rock over thousands of years and at the plants, somehow clinging to life on the sheer rock face opposite. Nature red in tooth and claw, but also guileless and brilliant. Idiotic plants. All Wordsworth spotted was some daffodils, the idiot. Wandering around with his head stuck in a lonely cloud.
The proper falls were somewhat more impressive than the secret ones that I had discovered (Herring Falls as they are known now), a sudden and sheer 45 feet drop with a bridge above so you could get a stomach churning and head spinning view of the height. We went down the steps to get a photo in front of the falls, but once we were there had to wait whilst a somewhat self-obsessed and rude family hogged the sweet spot taking photos for five minutes with seemingly no thought for others or embarrassment at their own self-regard. It was a couple with four young girls, who did at least make me laugh because one of them was a bit more precocious than the others and trying to hog the photo, and her older sister responded by pulling a face and waving her hand from side to side as if to imply the younger one smelled. The fact that they were taking a still photo made this more of an impressive joke, as I was fairly confident that it would not come across in the picture. It was a hopeless and wonderful attempt at humour. As useless and yet as perspicacious as those plants living on a smattering of soil on a rock face.
After patiently waiting for five minutes for our turn we finally just barged into position as best we could. Still the mother made no attempt to move. Oh world, why art thou so rude? You can have that one Wordsworth. You wouldn't be able to wander lonely as a cloud these days mate. You and your stupid observational comedy have ruined it for everyone. It was just some fucking daffodils. Get over yourself.
