I am having a long weekend, Dear Reader. I spent yesterday daytime making final edits to stories in the soon-to-be-published ‘Underdog Anthology V: Six in Five in Four’. Leggy has a preview, in which he includes one of his stories from the book…
mid-15c., “belonging exclusively to one person,” from Latin peculiaris“of one’s own (property),” from peculium “private property,” literally “property in cattle” (in ancient times the most important form of property), from pecu“cattle, flock,” related to pecus“cattle” (see pecuniary). Meaning “unusual” is first attested c. 1600 (earlier “distinguished, special,” 1580s; for sense development, compare idiom). Related: Peculiarly.
*’Also KT and KH’…/drags… No shit! …/streams smoke… *
Then last night Cade and I resumed his introduction to Doctor Who, and also caught up with Leggy and Poppy… Les amis…
*/flicks ash… Knot a favourite episode, Clicky… /drags… although, excellent use of a jammie dodger… /blows smoke rings… I’d forgotten about that…*
*Like the villain, House, in The Doctor’s Wife, Clicky, Daleks are a bit like a sea anemone… /puffs… “hard on the outside, squishy on the inside”… I hadn’t made that connection before… /taps teeth…*
Anyhoo, in honour of Old Peculier’s neighbour’s cat, Dear Reader, and seeing as a ‘cat‘ won today’s Grand National, I thought I’d take a leaf out of Leggy’s book – pun intended – and post one of my stories from UAV. It’s short and called ‘Nine Lives’. The Knot-Sew confidential making of it can be found here. Enjoy!
*******
NINE LIVES
Karl sat at his kitchen table, smoking and observing the tendrils of early morning mist gently tickle the tops of the garden hedge, before continuing their soft creep to the ground. It was dark outside but the lawn glittered with stars; pregnant dew drops nestling in the grass caught the thin, amber light that spilled from the kitchen window. He stubbed out his cigarette and gulped back the last dregs of cold tea from his mug with a grimace. Not long now, Karl thought, she’ll be home soon. Outside the mist started to swirl and pool.
He stood up and stretched, bones creaking and knees popping as if to salute the end of his vigil. He fleetingly considered that he was getting too old for this malarkey, but she needed a watcher – someone to light the way back. He could bear the discomfort; it was only for the night. Karl rubbed his eyes under his glasses, and dragged his hands down over bristled cheeks to wipe any tiredness away. He contemplated putting the kettle on when he heard the first high pitched bark puncturing the dark. The second got him moving. “Not the foxes again!”
As he opened the back door, the wet slap of morning air to hit Karl’s face was accompanied by a rude crash and skitter of a dustbin lid falling, somewhere in the mist. She’s coming from the right, he thought, opening the door wider to peer out into the murk. More barks, louder this time, and a fiery hiss, were followed by the sound of clambered wood, as the garden fence shook violently. Karl held the door further ajar, and a white streak shot out of the mist and between his legs, into the kitchen.
Karl closed the door on the mist and the foxes who, by the sound of it, were now rummaging through next door’s bin for tasty scraps. He turned to the slight figure, lying on the kitchen floor. “For goodness sake, Lara, do you have to tease the foxes? It upsets the neighbours.”
“It upsets the bins,” Lara replied, lightly panting as she rolled over and attempted to sit up. “No, they were waiting for me. Foxes are not called cunning for nothing, Karl.”
“Yes, but they usually leave you alone when you’re hedge riding.”
Lara sighed. “It would seem witches aren’t held in much esteem these days. Not by people or wildlife.”
Karl surveyed the flush in his wife’s cheeks and her glittering eyes, and thought she still looked pretty formidable considering her advanced years. He also noticed the shudder in her arm propping her up. “You should get off the floor. What would you like, sofa or chair?” he asked, scooping her up, with barely a tremble from his own geriatric limbs.
“Sofa,” Lara replied with a wan smile. “Thank you, dear. And a cuppa and a ciggie wouldn’t go amiss either.”
“Funnily enough, I was just about to put the kettle on,” Karl replied, before lowering his wife, so she could reach out and pluck the cigarette packet and lighter from the kitchen table. A fat bead of blood splashed onto the surface below, quickly followed by another. “You’re injured?”
“Damn foxes.” Lara winced and drew her arm back toward her chest. “One of them managed to get a mouthful of armpit. I don’t think it’s too deep. Just stings a bit.”
“But you’re bleeding,” Karl said gruffly. Too gruffly, he feared, from the look his wife shot him. “Okay, let’s get you comfortable and then I can clean that up,” he continued in a more conciliatory tone, before carrying her through to the front room.
Karl noticed that Lara was already on her second cigarette when he returned five minutes later, to set out a bowl of hot water, soap, flannel and towel on the carpet before her. “Kettle’s on for tea,” he said kneeling down. He adjusted his glasses and gingerly started to lift Lara’s elbow. “Can’t let it get infected, how would we explain that to Dr Patel?”
“I can always change back so you can take me to a vet,” Lara replied sharply, pulling away from his grasp.
She must be in great pain, Karl thought. “Come now, dear, we don’t have pet insurance. We don’t own a pet.” Lara’s eyes briefly flashed at his riposte, but her body relaxed and she allowed him to lift her arm. “So apart from getting into a fight with some foxes…”
“Ambushed by some foxes,” Lara quickly corrected him.
“Sorry, ambushed by some foxes on the way home, how was the rest of your night?”
Lara took a deep drag from her cigarette. “Well it started off okay,” she said, billowing a great cloud of smoke. “I went to see Annie and girls down at Saint Michael’s.”
“And how are Annie and the girls?” Karl asked as he cleaned her wound of blood.
“Dead.”
“Naturally.” Any bleeding seemed to have stopped, but the swelling around the punctures had already started to bruise, turning an angry black mauve that only truly flourished on elderly skin. Karl stopped himself flinching at the sight. “You’d think they’d get themselves a spirit cat.”
“They’ve got a spirit cat,” Lara gently rebuked him with a chuckle.
“A ghost cat, then.” Karl smiled at her mirth. “You know what I mean.”
“Oh a ghost cat would be just as stuck as they are. Graveyards are lonely places, Karl. The residents like the company and the gossip. Especially the newly interred. Once the funeral is over, they rarely get more than a yearly visit from any family. If that.” Lara finished her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray perched on the arm of the sofa. “How’s it looking?”
“Ugly but clean. It’ll need some arnica,” Karl replied, rising carefully to his feet. “That’s in the kitchen. Besides, the kettle must have boiled by now. No, no. You stay there. I’ll go.”
Lara laughed and shooed him away with her good arm before reaching for the cigarettes and lighter.
Karl could hear swearing from outside the back door; Jim must be up and found the aftermath of the fox fracas. Karl popped the kettle on and grabbed the arnica and some aspirin from the medicine cupboard, chuckling at the string of expletives emanating from over the garden fence. He glanced out the window to see that sunrise was already burning off the mist that had been so thick an hour or so ago. It looked like it could be a lovely day.
The sound of the front doorbell caught him off guard. Who would be calling at this hour? Karl wondered and went to open the front door. Through the frosted glass he could make out the shape of a woman in a bright pink dressing gown. What could she want? Karl thought as he unlocked and opened the door. “Morning Celia. Is everything alright?”
“Oh Karl,” his next door neighbour cried, her face puffy and contorted with distress. “Karl, I’m so sorry if I’ve woke you,” Celia started to apologise. “There was some trouble with foxes in our garden last night. I don’t know if you heard any of it.”
“No,” Karl lied. “But I heard Jim swearing earlier. Did they make much of a mess?”
Celia looked distraught at the suggestion. “Well yes, but…” she trailed off with a sob. “Karl, it’s Lara. I’m so sorry. They killed your cat.” Celia had not come empty handed; she held out a bundle, wrapped neatly in a towel, out in front of her.
Karl felt an icy chill bloom from the crown of his head and cascade down his body. “Thank you,” he said numbly, taking the bundle from Celia’s shaking hands.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Celia continued but Karl had already shut the front door. He felt the lightness of the bundle in his arms. It felt so slight.
“Lara?” Karl called as he carried it through to his wife, but the front room was empty. He laid the bundle on the sofa and sat down next to it. A spiral of smoke floated up from the ashtray perched on the arm. Karl turned and picked up the last of the burning cigarette and with trembling fingers, finished his smoke.
*******
I’m off now to introduce Cade to Thoughtful Man’s favourite companion, Dear Reader…
*Ah cool image, Clicky… /pat snout… Actually my hair hasn’t looked like that once this week… /lights up…*
Dear Reader, I have been on holiday these last couple of days, and have finally managed to write my short story about a hedge riding hag…
*I am pretty happy with the result, Clicky…/puffs…*
…and have submitted it to Leggy for inclusion in the upcoming ‘Underdog Anthology V‘. The story is called ‘Nine Lives’…
*I’ve still got time to mutilate a poem for the Afterword before I go back to work, Clicky… /drags… If I can find the right one… /billows smoke…*
I was also able to spend some time yesterday in the Blue universe. Frank Davis had been snooping around New York, after reading about the proposed bill to stop people from smoking whilst walking the streets of that fair city…
*They’re fucking unbelievable! …/flicks ash… First you can’t smoke inside, and now the utopian dreamers are trying to dictate where and how you can smoke outside… /deep drag… Nasty Not-sees indeed… /sighs…*
He was looking at street signs there and came across one that had him perplexed…
‘Just a few yards away was another really weird sign. I think it was some sort of aphorism. But I couldn’t make out what it said, because it seemed to be written in bleeding, dripping letters that said something like Afraid And Dead. I guess that if you were crossing 2nd Avenue and you stopped to try to figure out what the scary sign meant, you’d find out when you got hit by a truck.’
It puzzled me, too; however, the photo Frank included was somewhat fuzzy, so I sent Clicky off for a closer inspection…
*Much better but it still looks like worshipers or sumfin’ to me, Clicky… /drags deeply… In sinister black… /snorts smoke…*
… and find an answer.
*Those are hands!*
*/reads slowly… School For Deaf …/squints… Dept of Transport… /final drag… Oh! The yellow buses! It’s a bus stop sign, Clicky! … /streams smoke…*
*Alright, don’t take the piss… /stubs butt… Well done you, though, on working it out… There’s a good assistant… /pats snout…*
It was a sign for deaf school children, Dear Reader…
Good afternoon, Dear Reader! 😀 It’s snowing again. Not as much as last time, but Thoughtful Man is out working in it…
*Hee is indeed… /blows smoke ring…*
… And I’m sat here, on Sat-‘ere-day, pondering the idea of an anthology short story about ‘hedge riding’…
*Great mates… /puff contentedly… I’m so lucky, Clicky…*
‘Can someone be both a Hedge Rider and Hedge Witch? Yes if they are practicing crossing the veil, second sight and also find their core practice in their garden etc. If one is performing herbal magic without the Journey work, divination,
and spirit work then they are practicing Hedge Witchery and not Hedge Riding. These practices very much compliment each other. Hedge Riders use poison herbs to aid in flight, while the Hedge Witch is able to connect with the spirit world through meditations.
‘The Solanaceae, or nightshades, are an economically important family of flowering plants. The family ranges from annual and perennial herbs to vines, lianas, epiphytes, shrubs, and trees, and includes a number of important agricultural crops, medicinal plants, spices, weeds, and ornamentals. Many members of the family contain potent alkaloids, and some are highly toxic, but many, including tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant, bell/chili peppers, and tobacco are widely used.
Looking out the window, I see that our garden hedge is cloaked in snow…
“enclosure,” Old English haga “enclosure, fortified enclosure; hedge,” from Proto-Germanic *hag-(source also of Old Norse hagi, Old Saxon hago, German Hag “hedge;” Middle Dutch hage, Dutch haag, as in the city name The Hague), from PIE root *kagh- “to catch seize; wickerwork fence” (see hedge (n.), and compare hag). Meaning “fruit of the hawthorn bush” (Old English) is perhaps short for *hægberie.
… thinking I’m glad I don’t have to go outside to smoke in this weather. I’d hate to be made go outside to smoke today, Dear Reader. Standing on the street smoking makes me feel like a whore…
*Yikes! /final drag… That’s a different kind of hag, Clicky… /stubs butt… Nightmarish all the same. I can use that…*
Stay warm and enjoy your weekend, Dear Reader. Oh, and… Have a Song 😉
*A train of thought for a flight of fancy eh, Clicky? /pats snout… Come on, I’d better start writing it… /lights up…*
*Yeah, Clicky, that so reminds me of mum… /lights up…*
I’ve not been about much as I’m settling into my new job and editing some short stories submissions for the next Underdog Anthology…
*That’s right, number 5… /drags… *
… And struggling to write a submission of my own. So, I thought I’d post an extract from Mother’s scribblings, to see if it can’t get my own creative juices flowing…
Extract from ‘A Family History for Ruth and Julia (Gawd ‘Elp Us!**)’, a.k.a. ‘The Ma Papers’ by Judith Eileen Newton (formerly Shewan, née Packer)
My cousin Margaret and I used to go to a dance hall at Catford called The Savoy. It was really classy compared with Victor Sylvester’s. It was later renamed Mr Smith’s and was closed down after a fatal shooting, and I read in a crime book that the shooting was to do with the Richardson gang.
The Savoy had a member’s bar downstairs, and typically for the time, only men could be members; women could only be guests. Our main aim was to meet a man who was a member so that you could enter the inner sanctum so to speak. It was a really weird sight on a Saturday night because the main dance floor was virtually empty except for girls until about 10 o’clock. They would be dancing together and waiting for the boys – who by now were well oiled having been downstairs drinking all evening – to appear, ready to pull.
To have a long term boyfriend that was a club member enabled you to bypass the upstairs dance floor and go straight downstairs with your bloke. Then you could amble upstairs with him later and look down our noses at the expectant girls amassed as if to say ‘Look what I have got girls. Eat your heart out’.
I’ve always been fascinated with people and psychology and I think that, even then, I looked at people and mused. I have been in both situations at The Savoy – both with a bloke and without – and the mating dance is fascinating. It rarely changes; just the people were different. When I started to go dancing again, after Daddy died and I moved to Southend, I was petrified because I had not done that sort of thing for years. I really shouldn’t have worried because it has not changed. Oh the words are different, and the remarks are cruder and courser, but basically it’s the same.
The boys arrive and circle the floor sizing up the talent. The girls try to look nonchalant but are also eyeing up the boys. They have a sixth sense about who is going to ask them to dance and will indicate to the girl that they are dancing with that two guys are approaching, and whether they look good or not. The other will then say ‘no, I don’t fancy them’ or ‘yes, they are all right’ and the boys will then try to split them up. That’s easy if the girls fancy the boys, but virtually impossible to split them if they don’t.
Remarks like ‘Piss off’ or worse were not used in those days and yet I have heard them nowadays. Back then we gently declined and the boys continued to circle looking for other likely candidates. The girls’ worry was wasting a dance on someone that they did not fancy and missing out on a better prospect. The boys’ worry was to be left without a girl at the end of the evening.
The worse part of being a girl was that if your mate was prettier than you. She would be asked to dance while standing on the sideline, and this would leave you on your own if you were not asked to dance. You felt embarrassed, and even though you both agreed at the beginning of the evening that one would not dance and leave the other alone, when the crunch came ‘all’s fair in love and war‘.
Margaret being 4 years older than me was particularly unscrupulous in this respect. Many’s the time when I have refused to dance with someone and leave her on her own when, blow me, she’d be off with the first bloke that asked her, leave me standing.
It was on one of these memorable occasions when Daddy ambled up to me and it all started. Margaret and I were dancing when the boys came upstairs. I saw these two blokes eyeing us up and said to Margaret, “There are two boys coming over. Say no.”
Terry asked Margaret to dance and she said “Yes”. His lanky friend asked me and I said “No”. Margaret waltzed off with Terry, leaving us standing there awkwardly.
Still smiling, Daddy leaned down and whispered in my ear,“I have just walked the whole length of this dance floor to ask you to dance, don’t make me look like a fool now.” So I danced with him and your lives began.
Terry took Margaret home and she lived in Bellingham, which is a long way from Bermondsey, which is where I lived. As it turned out both Terry and Bob lived in Bermondsey, too. Sods law is that I went to Catford to meet new folk and end up with a bloke that lived in the next street.
I will not go into any more details here I will leave the details until the chapter about myself.
*******
*That’s kinda weird, Clicky… /final drag…*
Enjoy your Sunday, Dear Reader, and… Have a Song ❤
I started a new job yesterday, Dear Reader. I’m now working on the 13th and top floor of ‘The Tower’ and the views are great!
And ‘The Beast from the East’ is paying the UK a visit, sew… SNOW! I thought I’d take some photos to show The Okie Devil in Text US…
… Speaking of whom, Cade has sent through a lovely missive. Enjoy!
*******
LET’S TALK NUMB DERPS!!!
I mean...NUMBERS!!!
Q: What percentage of the ingredients listed above, needs to be unavailable, in order to make the entirety of the finished product itself also unavailable?
A: 1 - 1 = 0
So, we can assume, that if 100% of one ingredient is unavailable to the manufacturer for a certain product, 100% of the other ingredients will be unavailable to you by default since the entire product will be unavailable. Just thinking here about “NEW COKE” that was introduced back in the 1980’s, and how the entirety of the food market is now based on?
...<drum roll>...
CHEMISTRY!!!
Why in the hell would a blended oil need fragrance?
I mean, when we humans swap fluids, there’s nothing that gets all stinky or anything. I wonder what is going on with oil(s) when they get freaky and start mingling?
That also gets me to thinking about the nature of bonds. Especially those bonds that we humans like to ignore, because they are just too damn inconvenient to think about. Those ones that are not cost effective, non-timely, too vague… negligible. Such as…
Q: I wonder what oil’s relationship is to oil(s)?
A: Yeah...those oils.
Any chance that Petroleum has some sort of bond with say…Canola or Olive Oil? What about…Chicken Fat? Spooky Action At A Distance.
(not a far enough distance if you ask me 😉 )
What if a certain oil requires another type of oil or others types of oils, in order to retain it’s own matrix. Like, in order to stay what it is, it needs some local contrast to maintain it’s own integrity. What if the oil(s) it uses to do this, is suddenly…gone? Are we talking mutation? Because as far as I know, it takes many and much to make a certain kind of oil.
Olive.
O Live.
Ol’ I’ve
/me shrugs therefore I am sure I've no clue
^DIGITALISM — HOLOGRAMS (OFFICIAL VIDEO)^
Anti...Foaming...Agent?
I’m betting that this is for the manufacturer more than the consumer. Or at least, as much for them as for us. If you can’t get the shit out of the bottle/can, no one is going to buy it.
Pro-Tip 01: For baking, I personally dump a bead of Olive Oil onto the baking pan, then spread it with a paper towel. You can also let gravity do the work by lifting the pan and letting it roll around.
Pro-Tip 02: Cold Oil – Hot Pan. Hot Oil – Cold Pan. You can stick your pan into the preheated oven and let it warm a bit, then put some oil on it and it will spread easier with less waste.
I mean, we’re likely talking about baking pizza-rolls or some other pre-cooked something…right? We’re just heating it up. We aren’t really cooking anything. Just don’t want our prefabricated frozen egg rolls sticking to the pan. Shit takes time, and you’ve no time. Maybe you should skip it altogether.
Water? ... Alcohol?
Water is bad and getting worse…and alcohol was/already is bad. So, what in the FUCK is it doing in my “Extra Virgin Olive Oil”?!?!? Without even having to reference gender, one could say that this product sounds kinda…
slutty.
Only 53% Olive Oil? Wait…I’m just a dummy grabbing random “shocking” images from Google Image search. Am I being honest here? LET’S LOOK!!!
Looks like that shit is sold in France, and that’s where lot’s of the world’s skanky and polluted fish is supposedly sold. Maybe someone is fighting skank with skank?
Let's digress back to water.
If the entirety of the world’s water is “polluted” how much control does that give government(s) over water? I would say “how much more control” does that give, but I’m trying to be optimistic here.
Hmmmm… I wonder if water “navigates” our being? That might be a good angle for you “Orwellian” types to ponder. Or“well”ian…
lolz...
A “well” sounds like a deep subject. Surely The US Constitution couldn’t be used as a model for controlling people in more and more abstract ways…
could it?
And even if it’s not used in The USA by US citizens, that’s no guarantee that others won’t use The Constitution as a model for stuff elsewhere. Don’t blame them tho. I mean…that’s what we Americans want/wanted … right? We want everyone else to be just like us Americans.
DEMOCRACY!!!
^Digitalism – Wolves^
Yeah…I’m thinking that aggregate and negligible is pretty important. Coal, is important to industry. Tin is important to industry. Rubber is important to industry. OH!!! And speaking of industry…
Q: Ever get the feeling that this “CO2 Emissions” bullshit is nothing more than a smokescreen?
A: (lolz...smokescreen)
Yeah…a distraction. You can make electric cars until Christ comes back, but they still have, and create, all the same problems and/or completely new ones + similar ones. “Our” problem, is waste and wastes. Much of the model and/or modeling that is used today is based on speed(s) and demands that were created during the wartime production needs of WWI and WWII.
Q: Why did we not slow back down?
A: A new paradigm?
Money? And just how much there could be?
‘Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also there was no more sea.’
Revelation 21:1
‘The twelve gates were twelve pearls: each individual gate was of one pearl. And the street of the city was pure gold, like transparent glass.’
Revelation 21:21
No mention of Platinum streets, but I think that Gold and Platinum are closely related. Here’s a link to the entire chapter if you don’t like me paraphrasing.
But yeah…something about streets of gold. If you want symbolism and metaphors and other vagaries to argue over, methinks there are some there if you compare it with the vid below.
/me shrugs
^Mining Platinum From the Road Part One^
It’s already Wednesday. That means, that a certain someone I kinda know is on day two of a new job.
There’s also been other…news. I tried to start writing about this on my own blog on Monday, but even tho I didn’t know these people really, it was kindof a gutshot to me.
Should news like this have an effect on me? Should it not? Why are you telling me how I should or should not feel? We’ve no time for grief. We’ve no time for anything. Which makes me wonder, what do we have time for? Lemme know if you find out…k? Schedule an appointment, and we can talk about it until I lose interest.
^King Tuff – Psycho Star [OFFICIAL VIDEO]^
Let’s get back to bonds and bonding of the layered variety/varieties. Could oil really be a model for other oils? We’ve got our schematics and templates and plans and blueprints and standards and schedules and day planners and shit like that…so…why wouldn’t Nature have similar?
I mean sure, Nature, is going to be a little more fluidic and flowy in her creations and creating, but isn’t this the very rabbit that we are chasing? What happens when we finally catch this cagey and evasive little bastard, and the motherfucker has fangs powered by nuclear radiation?
Lolz...like...Godzilla, cept less stomping and more biting.
I digresslessishness. Sure Science has this kind of modeling, but Science does it in the lab or some other clean/sterile environment.
(that ought to be a bumper sticker and/or t-shirt if it's not already)
Erm…yeah…clean. Clean this, clean that. But I got a question…
Q: If labs are so goddamn clean, what’s with all the cleaning?
A: ??¿
I don’t envy those that work in labs. They’re nasty places to work, and I’m not sure which is worse…the gross nasty shit they bring in to evaluate, or the gross nasty shit they use to combat the gross nasty shit they are tinkering with.
But that makes me wonder…is it the contrast(s) and contrasting that makes one thing look better or worse than the other? Bleach may result in some level of “clean”, but bleach itself is one of the nastiest substances on Earth/Terra.
^Superorganism – Everybody Wants To Be Famous (Official Video)^
I was just thinking about black holes again last night, but I was thinking more along the lines of what is required to create a certain state within a certain element. Not only that, but the steps and processes that it takes to create and maintain the state of a certain element. I will quote my source, which is available by giving the video below a viddy.
^making nitrogen ice with vacuum chamber, that is -210 degrees celsius^
So we’ve liquid Nitrogen, we put it in a vacuum/vacuum chamber, and eventually our liquid Nitrogen becomes a solid. That get’s me back to “phasing” and states, which gets me back to aggregate radiation(s). Then again, I tend to think of almost everything as either a fluid and/or fluidic irrespective of a certain something’s solidity. Anyway, I’m thinking that maybe we don’t understand “radiation” as well as we think we do? Heat is too prevalent, and sound is mysteriously absent.
Hmmmmmm.
Something else is missing, and I think I know what that missing something is…
^Young Fathers – In My View (Official Video)^
!!!!!!!RANDOM WIKIPEDIA ATTACK!!!!!!!
!-RAWR-!
From today’s featured article…
Flight Unlimited III – a 1999 flight simulator video game developed by Looking Glass Studios and published by Electronic Arts. It allows players to pilot simulations of real-world commercial and civilian aircraft in and around Seattle, Washington.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Music Analysis (journal) – a peer-reviewed academic journal specializing in music theory and analysis. It is based in England and published its first issue in 1982. Although the journal “is not produced on behalf of a society, it is closely associated with the Society for Music Analysis.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Leanne Crichton – a Scottish international footballer who plays as a midfielder for Glasgow City and the Scotland national team. She previously played for Notts County in the FA WSL as well as Hibernian, Celtic, and Whitehill Welfare/Edinburgh Ladies.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Ellen R. Sandor – an American new media artist. She is also founder of the Chicago-based (art)n, a collective of artists, scientists, mathematicians, and computer experts.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Ballasalla – a village in the parish of Malew in the south-east of the Isle of Man, close to the airport and the town of Castletown. The village was built mostly from the ruins of the nearby Rushen Abbey, a Cistercian abbey founded in the 12th century and dissolved in the 16th century.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Momo and the Time Thieves – a Danish-language opera in two acts by Svitlana Azarova. The libretto, based on the children’s book Momo by Michael Ende, was written by Anna Bro (da; de).
Londonderry by-election, 1929 – The Londonderry by-election of 1929 was held on 29 January 1929. The by-election was held due to the appointment as high court judge of the incumbent UUP MP, Malcolm Macnaghten. It was won by the UUP candidate Ronald Deane Ross.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Battle of Palikao – was fought at the bridge of Palikao by Anglo-French forces against the Qing Empire during the Second Opium War on the morning of 21 September 1860. It allowed Western forces to take the capital Beijing and eventually defeat the Qing Empire.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
City Council– A city council, town council, town board, or board of aldermen is the legislative body that governs a city, town, municipality, or local government area.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
CitySurf Globe– a family of Geography 2.0 Geographical Information System software, developed by PiriReis Bilişim Teknolojileri, known as a new model in mapping servers and interaction with the end user.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Richard Friend– is Cavendish Professor of Physics at the University of Cambridge and Tan Chin Tuan Centennial Professor at the National University of Singapore. Friend’s research concerns the physics and engineering of carbon-based semiconductors.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Clive Nattress– an English former footballer who made 340 appearances in the Football League playing as a defender for Darlington and Halifax Town in the 1970s and 1980s.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Dahomeyan presidential election, July 1968– A referendum on Émile Derlin Zinsou’s candidacy for president was held in Dahomey on 28 July 1968. The results of the May 1968 presidential election had been annulled due to low voter turnout. The military government appointed Zinsou to the position, but he accepted only on the condition that a referendum regarding his appointment be held. His candidacy was supported by 76.4% of voters, with a 72.6% turnout.
⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑⇓⇑
Léon Hennique– a French naturalistic novelist and playwright.
We’ve got “non-society based” peer reviewed journals that have close affiliations but no direct ties, time thieves, opium war(s), a few political groups and potential members, “vote or else” types of goings on, arcane French writers, lots of technology, some more of that “new media” crap…whatever in the fuck that is, and in general, plenty of sport all around.
Good stuff! 🙂
^Digitalism – Gonna Be Good^
Wanna know what got me to rambling this morning? Or at least, what actually set me to writing?
Yep, that’s all I read. I don’t care what else is there. Not now anyway. Why drink the ocean, when a sip will do me just fine? I read the first paragraph, and all I could think about was going to grocery stores when I was a kid. Glass bottles EVERYfuckingWHERE!!!
You had produce, meat(s), and everything else was either in cans or glass or cardboard or paper. Then got to thinking about change and changes over the years…adaptation. I wonder how adaptation differs from mutation? I see the potential for some ripping there. And if there is a potential for ripping, are we focused on the potential, or the actual ripping part(s)?
Truth be told, we appear to have all of the same dynamics and mechanics of wartime, save for the recycling portions. We seem to be completely fine with disposable/disposability. Likely why we tend to think of ourselves as being nuts. We like to make ourselves indispensable, which I guess makes everything else disposable.
Or am I being cynical?
^James Blake – If The Car Beside You Moves Ahead (Official video)^
I’m feeling a shade better today. Been feeling like complete shit all week.
How are you?
That flu I tangled with for over a month really kicked my ass, and I never really even got that sick. Not many of the more traditional symptoms anyway. But it sure did a number on my chest. Not to mention all of the crazy weather we’ve been having.
70°F/21°C one afternoon...28°F/-2°C the next.
That shit gets old. ESPECIALLY when it’s warm at night, and then, the day gets colder as the day progresses. I thought shit was supposed to warm up as the sun creeps across the sky?
^CHVRCHES – Get Out^
Found a really wicked vid that shows some…erm…atmospheric anomalies if you care to check it out.
Great photography too.
Springs.
^planes clouds and vortices^
We can’t understand everything…until and unless we can. But who gets to make that decision?
^Alaska Airlines Great American Eclipse flight #9671^
Do you need someone to hold your hand while you are out saving the world?
Brush your hair for you?
Rub your feet and/or back?
Tell stupid jokes in an attempt to make you smile?
We can lay down some trail-dust, and sprinkle it with some stardust.
Have camera on my phone, will travel 😛
/me shrugs
^Boeing 737 – from a weather balloon^
If everything comes from somewhere, where did nowhere come from?
There's a bend there.
^Amazing A380, B787, B777 Appear out of nowhere at Schiphol Airport^
Is it possible that we’ve become so reliant on vernacular and it’s reusability, all while becoming so dependent on standards and commerce/capitalism, that we’ve gotten linguistically lazy? If kids are really graduating from school while simultaneously being labeled as illiterate, is that indicative of someone fighting a multi-front war of some kind? I thought that school was there for the people, not vice-versa. Lot’s of tiptoeing here. What am I talking about?
Delhi/Population - 18.98 million - 2012 (source Google)
University of Delhi/Total enrollment – 132,435 – 2015 (source Google)
I was watching a documentary the other day that said officials actually have no clue how many people reside in Delhi, and that the population could be as high as 35 million at times. Lots of immigrants and immigration. Loads of people come in from the sticks for medical treatment.
That said, it takes money to make money, and you can’t spend your money on making money if you are giving your money away to unproductive sectors of the economy…right?
Q: What’s productive about being stingy?
A: ¿¿?
GIMMIE FAT MONIES!!!
^Lusine – Just A Cloud^
I dunno what you think about. Not unless you tell me anyway. And if what you tell me has been washed and cleaned and cycled and recycled all into some something else that is not what you were originally thinking about? Yeah…confusion. Not that anyone would do that or anything.
But seriously, how much suffering can “John and/or Jane Public” endure before that suffering starts to trickle? Can ‘the captains of industry” really stand on the backs of others and persevere? Granted there is a shift to technology, but the singular nature of this thinking is itself teetering on collapse.
Maybe it’s a safety thing. If you and your SJW groups don’t stop breaking windows, I’m gonna fire all the mechanics that work for Coca Cola. And if there are no mechanics working at Coca Cola to keep the machines running, there will be no Coca Cola, nor Sprite, nor Coke Zero, nor anything else.
Sounds...familiar.
^Digitalism – Shangri La^
Maybe the time of “The Union” has returned. Unions are all but dead, not to mention that divorce rates are said to be skyrocketing.
I digressssss.
I’ve thought a lot about Unions. Prolly because I belonged to a couple: IAM/AW and Teamsters. But back when I was in a Union, they didn’t make any sense. Not much sense. I’ve got two people telling me what to do instead of one, and they both want my money.
Would it be possible to have technical unions? I know that laws here in The US are weaved so that it’s gonna be tough for computer programmers to start a labor union. Not to mention that once you get around Federal Law, you’ve got loads of State Law(s) you are going to have to tangle with, followed by loads of local law(s). I don’t think foreign countries have such problems.
^Hercules & Love Affair – My Curse And Cure (Official Video)^
I’m sorry you filthy Limeys have gotten blanketed in snow…I really am. It breaks my motherfucking hot and beating Okie heart…it really does.
It’s raining and warm here. I found a drown snake in one of the puddles out back. My guess is, that there is likely a correlation with precipitation amount(s) and hibernating wildlife. Not to mention shit like encroachment and bug spray(s)/pest control, available food sources, available clean water, and shit like that.
Q1: What effect does that one snake’s death have on the entirety of existence?
A1: ¿??
Q2: What if it was the last one?
A2: ?¿¿
Methinks, that every one, is the last one.
Do you ever think about where a grass snake is able to get a clean drink of water? What about a dirty drink of water? Water is water…right? Snakes are gross anyway…fuck em’.
^Muse – Thought Contagion [Official Music Video]^
Been thinking a load about intersecting gravities of both the horizontal and vertical varieties, but I’ve not much to say about it here. I just know that I’m starting to see them everywhere. Vertical here, horizontal there, and sometimes…both.
That has me to thinking about the more “finite” iterations of time. Depends on your vantage point tho. A Saturn V rocket looks quite small from 5 miles away. But if you strap your own ass into one of the couches inside the Command Module that sits atop of a Saturn V rocket? Yeah…they’re actually a pretty big rocket. They go fast too. Which has the effect of making both small stuff big, and big stuff small, and does so in rapid fashion. I wonder how our mind deals with such contrast and contrasts?
I know it’s taken me a while to get used to it. Not that I am really used to it. But going from far outside of Earth/Terra’s atmosphere, to deep within an atom inside of our planet’s crust, all within the span of a single second? Yeah…that shit takes some getting used to. Especially when time starts getting all wonky irrespective of scale(s).
^The Presets – 14U+14ME (Official Video)^
Can you imagine riding a single atom of Hydrogen for billions of years while traversing from the Earth’s crust, and riding that atom all the way to our planet’s core?
*No, Clicky…/drags… Lovely as the animation is… /blows smoke… I was thinking about the memo… the one about all the collusion… /puffs… Honestly! Could only ‘appen under Trump! …/taps ASH…*
*Oh course! Elephants have phenomenal memories, Clicky… /pats snout…*
early 15c., from Latin memorandum“(thing) to be remembered,” neuter singular of memorandus“worthy of remembrance, noteworthy,” gerundive of memorare“to call to mind,” from memor “mindful of” (see memory). Originally a word written at the top of a note, by 1540s it came to stand for the note itself. The Latin plural is memoranda. Compare also agenda.
…Coupled with the trailer of a movie I saw earlier on Twitter. To be released this summer, a prequel sequel in the story of Donna and Sophie…
*Frank? Witch one? RedandBlue? …/grins… And John the letter writer. Knot to mention Clarence from Clare that’s so Shining, Clicky… /drags…*
‘The three prisoners were serving sentences for bank robbery when they executed their escape plan using stolen spoons, dummy heads and a raincoat raft. Their exploits were turned into the 1979 movie “Escape from Alcatraz,” starring Clint Eastwood as Morris.
‘U.S. Marshal Michael Dyke, who inherited the unsolved case in 2003, told The Associated Press in 2012 that he didn’t know whether any members of the trio were still alive. But he had seen enough evidence to make him wonder.
‘That evidence included credible reports that the Anglins’ mother, for several years, received flowers delivered without a card, and that the brothers attended her 1973 funeraldisguised in women’s clothes despite a heavy FBI presence.’
Now, if you’ve been paying attention, Dear Reader, employing your ‘Clicky’ to full potential in navigating this shambles, the pics Cade ‘grabbed’, well, quite simply they blew my socks off…
I AM the SynchroMiss planted on Earth, here to share my downloads, intel, and code-cracking, integrating the art of synchronicity as we transition to a higher state of consciousness and awareness.
Why in the hell would a blended oil need fragrance? 
Anti...Foaming...Agent?
Water? ... Alcohol?
