The Consequences

It has to be said that the sight of young alpacas running (today, near Whitchurch) is inherently amusing. It’s everything about them – their shape and their gait. Quite what lies behind something seeming funny to me and perhaps not to others is one of those topics that I’d like to think about more.

I guess it’s just as interesting that I can be fairly sure that a reasonable number of people will share that same view of a hurrying young alpaca, should they see one. There must be a lot of common cultural baggage in all this somewhere. Humour is rarely treated as being of consequence in the standard historical narratives, but I suspect tracking unchanging and, indeed, changing tastes in humour in a nation would provide interesting insights.

Talking of consequences, I went to bed late last night – I can’t have turned my light out before 1.30 am. I didn’t sleep that well and I didn’t sleep late to make up for it. So, getting on a bike today for a longer, hillier ride than many I do was bound to be a bit of a challenge. So it proved and the end result is that I was more tired at the end of it than I’d normally be, slower going around it than I’d normally be. And, being human, I kind of moaned about that to myself for a while before realizing the obvious: my bike riding is of no consequence. Nothing hinges on it. Counter-intuitively, that might well make it more enjoyable.