Daily Archives: August 17, 2018

torpid, torpor

The dogged daze of summer is here, the time when it is so torrid you feel stupid. The very air seems to torque with an opalescent, opaque moisture, and even as the empyrean unleashes torrents you are in a stupor. It is torpid, and you are in torpor.

This is not to say that torpidity is native to summer. For hibernators, winter is the season of torpor. But humans are, if anything, estivators. We lie on the beach like canids; we compound our heat intoxication with umbrella drinks and tall cans; we import a purportedly tropical turpitude; we drink of lethe and are lethargic; we are numb, but comfortably so. Continue reading

Boxcar Social back patio (Yonge Street)

Come this way…

Listen to the podcast of this coffice space review on Patreon.

It’s cicada season. You know, the heat buzzer insect. It sounds like an old-fashioned oven timer when the air outside feels like an old-fashioned oven. On days like this, inside is not always where you want to be. Especially when inside has no air conditioning. Continue reading