Weekly Briefing from the North Texas Apocalypse Bunker, 3/25/22

Nice Bright Colors and Green of Summers Edition

The whole staff here in Administration is still recovering from the most recent excursion. While my sleep schedule has finally righted itself, the magnitude of the catch-up sessions (paperwork, inventory, requisitions, etc.) has loomed large and kept me from my usual contemplations, not to mention it’s played merry hell with my day-to-day schedule. Mentally, I’m still in Greece.

I took a lot of photos while I was there. Between myself and Janice, we’ve got nearly a thousand of them. As I’ve mentioned before, hers are uniformly much better. I used to be a decent photographer. Camera phones have ruined that for me. There’s no depth of field, the lens tends to distort in a kind of fish eye manner, and you can’t make any adjustments as you go. You have to dump them into an editor, so good luck on finding the “just right” lighting and f stop. Do they even do f stops anymore? Ugh. Computers.

As a result of my self-handicapping what was once a serviceable skill, bordering on an art, my photos fall into three broad categories now: Selfies, reference photos, and the occasional attempt to present a photo as I see the subject.

Selfies don’t count. You can’t mess those up. The photo reference is usually boring, because what is fascinating and necessary to me is just a janky old staircase to you. The reference photos are the one thing that camera phones are actually useful for; you can grab one quickly, shoot a bunch of stacked photos in a second, and you can zoom in close enough to better see what you were shooting. The last thing, you know, actual photography? For me, it’s real hit-or-miss. For every shot with a glancing attempt at composition and artistry, there’s a dozen pictures that are blurry, tilted, framed badly, have someone’s dumb head in them, or are just plain shitty, rendered flat and inert by the technology we can’t seem to live without these days.

Despite having the deck stacked against me, I did manage to snag a few photos that were “of the moment.” They aren’t necessarily pointed at big-ass ruins, but they were an integral part of my Greece trip. Maybe if I show them to you, I can get this all out of my head and we can get back to Bunker Business as Usual. So, if you’ll be so kind to indulge me, I’m going to post some of the more interesting photos I took, along with context for you.

A picture of me, taking a picture. Of the picture. Picture. Photo by Jes.

Another Jes photo. This is pretty representative of a chunk of the tour; us craning to see interesting shit as it zipped by at 80 Kilometers per hour.

This was the best pic I could manage of this wonderful piece of art. The hand and the shadow are painted onto the wall, and the illusion is striking when you see it in person. There was art everywhere in Athens; beautiful murals of Greek gods and goddesses, classical subjects, and historical murals. They are fiercely proud of their long history.

I wanted to get the graffiti on the sheet metal fence, in front of walls that were a hundred years old. I love the layered and tiered look of the buildings. Athens is a parkour enthusiast’s dream.

Wall art from the Zakros Hotel in Tolo, Greece. It was huge. And while we were by the sea, getting sea food on this trip was nearly impossible. By this time, I was jonesing for some fish, mussels, anything.

Spotted at a shop on the isle of Hydra. It was their last shirt. It was a large, and a Greek Large, at that, meaning, I doubt I could have slid this shirt over my head, let alone my torso. I am so ready to be able to buy a t-shirt that I want without having to do math to calculate the size in adult male manatee. That day can’t happen soon enough. But even if I was post-op during this trip, I couldn’t have worn it. So, this picture. I ask you: is this not the greatest shirt you’ve ever seen? For me, that is. Your mileage will definitely vary.

Also on the Isle of Hydra, the place where they get around on donkeys. I was going to write some pithy quip, but you know what? This photo needs no help from me. Just take it in for a bit.

Greek yogurt was everywhere, and it was delicious, much better than Oikos. Several restaurants served it as a dessert, drizzled with honey. That’s it, just that thick, dense yogurt and amazing honey. I was having such fun with the yogurt, until I saw this tapestry outside of a cafe. That picture? In the upper right hand corner? That’s my nightmare. Nuts in yogurt. God help you all.

Women of Troy. Jes and her mom, Mary, swap Altoids at Agamemnon’s palace. They’re curiously strong, you know. The women, I mean.

This is the Little Kook café and tea room. The whole building was a testament to young adult fantasy books. Oz, Grimm’s fairy tales, Harry Potter, Narnia…it was wonderfully weird. And, yeah…I did take a picture of a giant plastic deer’s ass. Because you lot wouldn’t have believed me if I’d just described it.

The live show from the last night dinner excursion. These guys were pretty amazing; the whole show was a blast to watch. That’s the Greek Kid ‘n Play move, by the way.

This bunker protected by the X-Men. For context, see this post right here.

Pavement stones at the Acropolis.

Another reference photo from the Hydra docks. Those cables run from the buildings to the water’s edge, attached to poles and masts and things. They are guides for awnings, which would be really nice and beautiful when there’s sun, but a pain in the ass in the wind and snow. I thought it was a cool system, one I’ve never seen before.

On the way to Delphi, we drove through a one street, one lane town, and Kostas was threading the needle like he was in Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift. We were all taking pictures and holding our breath. At one point, the street got so narrow, I almost screamed, “LORDS OF DEATH! DOWN THAT ALLEY! GO RIGHT, NOW!” Nine of you will think that’s really funny. The rest of you can just scroll down.

This was me for most of the archeological site tours. That’s my group, in front of me. Our team leader, Jeff, is wearing the yellow parka. It was like a beacon to me, as I trudged uphill, at a twenty degree incline, vaguely wondering how to say “defibrillator” in Greek.

And finally…the plane ride home was excruciating, a marathon of endurance, some 12 hours in airports and on planes. But Jes found a new show, obviously on BBC4 (the HBO of BBC), and was idly watching it when the announcement came on for the final descent. The picture froze, and as the pilot droned on in both English and German, and flight attendants were striding with purpose up and down the aisles, snapping us all into shape, Jes, valiantly tried to hide her choice of entertainment from everyone zipping about, to no avail. That was ten seconds of the overall program, but it was locked in place on the screen for three full minutes. Jes said that it seemed much longer than that.