I went to see 126 hours last night. It was great but gruesome. I've never attended a film in which so people left part way through. I guess some people hadn't realised that they would have to sit through an amateur self amputation performed without anaesthetic with a pen knife. Read the reviews why don't you.
Afterwards I discussed with my cinema partner what we would have done in Aron's situation. We mused what we might have done if we had each got our arm stuck in the same rock. I said the usual gentlemen rule of "Ladies first" would have to apply so she'd have to cut her arm off first and then she could go for help. But I did add that as a true gentlemen I'd offer to cut it off for her. I think she felt that idea needed more work...
When I got home I watched the news for a bit of something more cheerful to take to sleep with me. I found it. English cricket fans - over the moon at their victory over the Aussies. Many were declaring this week to be the greatest of their lives - including one guy standing there in front of his family (suggesting, I summised, that it topped his wedding and birth of two kids...) Excuse me but isn't all that has happened here that one nation (that, incidentally, invented cricket) has beaten just one other team representing a country with a population almost three times smaller than England's over one test match. Or am I missing something?
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