Nuns from 10,000 BC

To escape from our waterless hell here at our flat, we managed to get out yesterday to see a movie. Luckily, everybody else seems to have running water, so we took complete advantage of every clean public restroom we could find. Water is a luxury, man. We went to go see 10,000 BC; my original plan was to drag the boy to The Other Boleyn Girl, but I was in no mood for drama and sadness. Thank goodness, 10,000 BC was totally mindless and loud. Pretty sure it got so much hype (here, anyway, what about in the US?) because the movie studio didn't realize it was going to be so bad until it was too late, so they compensated by showing an entire series of very dramatic teaser trailers to get us all riled up. Well, at least it got all of us anthropologists riled up with the promise of a plethora of anthropological blasphemies.

In that respect, it was not disappointing. The story takes place in what we will call Kalaharistan, located in the sub-Saharan African desert, you know, the one between Egypt and Kazakhstan. Yeah, that one. Oh, and also, for those of you who may think otherwise, the Egyptian pyramids were built by the Persians and their Indian entourage in 10,000 BC. Take that, Egyptologists! Sorry Jews, you guys apparently had no stake in the pyramids. Ah yes, and horses wee totally domesticated in 10,000 BC. So there! And of course, it makes sense for a tribe that in all respects SHOULD be nomadic to build a permanent village on top of a mountain with no shelter. And for Africans to be growing corn.

What really topped the night off, after that fine cinematographic piece of art, was that as we sat and had a post-adventure beer, toasting the success of the cavemen in finding love and agriculture, we noticed that the entire mall was packed with nuns. Gaggles of giggling nuns. Gaggles of giggling nuns with booze. I mean, I know Catholics are all pro-the blood of Christ and all that, but could the Scottish really be so odd as to celebrate Easter Sunday by dressing as nuns and getting drunk? We thought at first they may be REAL nuns, until we saw a group stroll by arm-in-arm with a couple of Nazi-dressed characters, well, girls in uber short skirts and red bands around their arms (minus the swastika). We figured that was very un-nunlike, so we ask our bartender, who also thinks maybe the Scots are funny about the resurrection. Finally the manager saves the day, and explains that there's a performance of the Sound of Music (cringe) sing-a-long (DOUBLE cringe) next-door. The audience is encouraged to interact and dress up, and "nun" is the most popular costume. Followed by Halloween-sleazy Nazis. Of course. This was their post-fleeing boozage. (As a fun side note, I recently read a book called "Women Without Men" in which the Sound of Music is described as a movie about Julie Andrews who has this man's 7 children, and so when she is pregnant with his 8th, she decides that it would the decent thing to get married, oh and yeah, the Nazis were somewhere in there, too, and then there is a lot of running around. The End. I found that immensely amusing.)