Yesterday was Culture Day for HokiePundit
. After class, I got a free sample of a sandwich from Starbucks (chutney and banana, and it was actually very good), then went to KFC and got some chicken poppers for lunch. Really, honest, I wasn't trying
to be American, but KFC had the best prices. Anyway, I took the tube down to the British Museum, where I was promptly astounded. That place is HUGE, with over 60 exhibit rooms. When I say exhibit rooms, I don't just mean "this is a Roman suit of armor, let's go to the next room where we have an Egyptian mummy." No, each room could easily take you at least three hours to go through at a modest pace, and a whole day if you were to read all the descriptions and try to learn as much as you possibly could. It would take you at least six months to see the entire museum, and far longer to comprehend it in any detail. After just a few minutes in the Southeast Asia room, I felt immeasurably ignorant. I know a fair amount about history, but this place just made me feel...stupid. After going through that one room at a somewhat fast pace, I left in search of some Red Bull energy drinks to sustain me, and then went back into the breach. I looked through a little of the Prehistoric, Greek & Roman, Ancient Near East, and Egyptian rooms before finally deciding that my head was about to explode, and that it was vital that I leave while I still could. Still, I managed to see the Rosetta Stone and, to my surprise and pleasure, some of the Amarna Tablets (they mention the hapiru
and may be evidence of the Hebrews being in Egypt when the Bible says they were). After that, I found a nice suit store that was nonetheless going out of business, and got two very nice suits for far less than even one would've cost at normal prices. It was about 4:30, and so I decided to head to Southwark Cathedral for Evensong. I miscalculated my stop by one, and so I did a fair amount of walking to get there. Along the way, I found the Paxman shop (maker of some very fine French horns), where I stopped and looked around some. Finally, I made it to the cathedral just in time. I didn't know that there was a liturgical service with it, but since I'm familiar with the Anglican Rite, I didn't have any trouble fitting in. The gift shop was closed, but that's okay, since I'd already dropped a fair amount of cash on the (very nice) suits. Finally, I made it back to my room, where I rested for a while. I was too tired to go clubbing, so no one else from my group was there since they apparently weren't too tired. Around 11, the RA (Egyptian Sun-god) dropped by and asked if I was doing anything. I wasn't, so we headed over to the Imperial College pub (American colleges need on-campus pubs, not to mention lower drinking ages). Admission was £3 since it was a Friday night, but the drinks were cheap so it was all fine. One room was pretty much a traditional pub, but the other was a would-be rave. My friend and I headed over there, and since there was a foosball table, we played a game. Trust me, playing in a very dimly-lit room with a dark ball and two beers in you is a bit of a challenge. I ended up winning, but only because I thought there would be more balls than there were and I don't usually try to beat girls in games unless they're my blood relations. It didn't help that I'm pretty decent at foosball as it is, so I would reflexively block shots that I wanted her to score. Oh well, I tried. After getting back from that and sleeping for twelve hours straight, I watched a fair amount of rugby on TV. If you were wondering, Leicester held Munster for an unprecedented second-straight Heineken Cup, while the English national team defeated the Australians and advanced to the semifinals of some cup I forgot the name of. Tomorrow, it's back to Southwark Cathedral for morning services, and then possibly the British Museum and a comedy club that's been highly recommended to me.
Oh, and in an interesting turn of events, I was doing some reading yesterday and oddly enough, the voice that I sometimes hear reading along with me in my head was different. Usually, it's like I'm talking to myself as I read, and my voice is recognizable. Yesterday, it was British. Actually, I don't know if it was British. It was some odd mix of English, Scottish, and Irish, but at least it was constant and consistent. I tried speaking with the accent that I heard, but wasn't entirely successful. I've also started saying "chube" instead of "tube" and a few other British-isms. Won't be long now bayfore I lak dags (Jew lak dags? Dags? Yeh, dags. Oh, dogs
, yeah, I like dags) or staht tollking loik Ollyvah Twist, eh guv'nah?