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Post MRR Column no The more difficult a place is to pronounce, the more likely it'll be an adventure. I start this blog on a ferry boat about 50 miles north of the Arctic Circle It's September 17 and I'm happier than a whore at a frathouse Greenland is so far away from the horror of American politics that I could kiss it.
No internet here. Right now, I'm on board. The boat is half tourists The rest are Eskimos or in PC talk Inuit. Of course Inuits are people And they do eat raw meat Many other people do not. And, I'm happy to hear, like American Indians with the word Indian , Eskimos are perfectly happy calling themselves Eskimos.
It's only the guilty whiteman who insists on Inuit. Though I hear it's different in Canada. The only things annoying are technology that I brought from home. My little computer keeps beeping at me to update the virus database and send crash reports to Microsoft. My cellphone tells me to plug it in for a recharge, when I'm off in the middle of the Arctic Ocean looking at an iceberg. What am I supposed to do That might be pleasant for me, but I doubt the phone will get a charge out of it.
It's maddening. These time-saving devices take more time to do what the boring old devices did instantaneously. I wonder how many weeks a year I lose waiting for loading webpages or buffering porno videos. In the old days, I put a tape in the VCR. It started. I flipped a light switch. The light turned on. I opened a book and BANG!
