Dying culture?

I was up in North Wales recently, and a few things I saw surprised me.
I was surprised that anyone could drink eighteen pints of Magners and still form (sort of) coherent sentences.
I was surprised that no one would go the literal extra mile with Ben and I, despite the fact that there was only 5 minutes difference in us walking and everyone else getting back in the cars.
I was surprised at how unbelievably dreadful some people are at camping.
And I was surprised by this:





There are scores of these abandoned small holdings littering the hillsides; apparently, if you could build a chimney by sunset, they were given an acre surrounding it by the local lord. That could be complete bollocks, but I can't verify it. Still, sounds like a good explanation for why there are so many of these buildings.



I reached the top first, the turned around to watch the others struggle through the heather.Then Ben caught up, and we laughed at the others for a bit.

On the drinking thing: My friend John used to be the very worst lightweight drinker, in the history of everything. A single pint could get him rolling around and falling off chairs. He's no better now, but he just stayed at that level of inebriation for the next seventeen pints.

We managed to convince him that Xenu was coming for him, and shouting "XENU!" and shining a torch at him was enough to make him fall over.
I also replaced his drink with potatoes at one point.

He did say that he lost control of his neck when drinking. I see no reason to dispute that.

Whilst experimenting with long exposures, I made this:

It's like a genesis album cover, but the subject is Matt, the KW-1 Russian tank.


Rhetorical question for the day:
Is starting a blog too pretentious?
Meh, we'll see.

-Anorak