I have been meaning to write about shutters lately, or, rather, the scarcity thereof in the Outpost. Now that it has become really hot, I have started noticing that most newly built homes (i.e., say, 60% of all homes), houses and flats alike, completely lack shutters of any description. This means that the heat cannot be prevented from reaching through the glass panes and getting trapped indoors. Instead of shutters, you have curtains or the cursed Venetian blinds (a cat’s plaything and not even sexy anymore). Why would people not install shutters in a land drenched in sunlight? Why do they want the heat to be trapped inside their homes, between glass and curtain? Do they like it? Not really, that’s why they set their air conditioners at 18 degrees, with fans at full speed.
I have been trying to both seek an explanation and reconstruct the just-so story locals would have about this. Then, suddenly, inspiration in TGI Friday’s: a general theory that captures all sorts of Outpost behaviour, sure with the details still left to be worked out, but a good, simple theory in any case; it can be reduced to a single proposition:
Outposters are peasants.
‘Peasants’ should be read descriptively: neither as pejorative nor as a label glorifying rustic purity. Once this is understood, you can go back and read every single post of this blog under the light of the proposition above and it will all fall into place now. As a bonus, the above captures intriguing similarities between ‘Outpost realities’ and those in other places and times. Actually, in hindsight I wonder why it has taken me so long.
While you are occupying yourselves with this, I can take a short break (maybe), dedicating myself to internal life.