Man Dial A Defect

Enormous chair

authority (n.)

‘c. 1200, autoriteauctorite “authoritative passage or statement, book or quotation that settles an argument, passage from Scripture,” from Old French autoritéauctorité “authority, prestige, right, permission, dignity, gravity; the Scriptures” (12c.; Modern French autorité), from Latin auctoritatem (nominative auctoritas) “invention, advice, opinion, influence, command,” from auctor “master, leader, author” (see author (n.)). Usually spelled with a -c- in English before 16c., when the letter was dropped in imitation of French, then with a -th-, probably by influence of authentic.

‘From c. 1300 in the general sense “legal validity,” also “authoritative book; authoritative doctrine” (opposed to reason or experience); “author whose statements are regarded as correct.” From mid-14c. as “right to rule or command, power to enforce obedience, power or right to command or act.” In Middle English also “power derived from good reputation; power to convince people, capacity for inspiring trust.” From c. 1400 as “official sanction, authorization.” Meaning “persons in authority” is from 1610s; Authorities “those in charge, those with police powers” is recorded from mid-19c.’

Ever heard of the Milgram Experiment, Dear Reader? It’s a social psychological experiment conducted in the early 1960s, which tested people’s obedience to a figure of authority…

The subject of the test is not the person receiving the shocks, but the person administering them. Now, let me show you how it has been run in the 21st Century…

Milgram Updated Governments and Smokers

WHITE COATS

GREY SUITS

BLACK LUNGS

And it’s not just smokers that have suffered at the hands of shocking decision-makers, Dear Reader. Administering Subjects, national and local, have performed so poorly that there are now other, mini ‘White Coat’ figures of authority, jumping all over them to get on the ban_wagon…

High Priest Jammy Dodger

… They are so very keen to tell the ‘Grey Suits‘…

BUT! There was some good news last night, Dear Reader, from across the Pond…

Now all the Dez Rez Prez needs to do is listen to his VEEP

good cop bad cop

Have a Song 😉

New Ham Let: ‘Cos Play’s The Fing

*/lights up… Afternoon, Clicky… /drags… Feeling Old Skool, are we? …/streams smoke…*

I saw a tweet earlier today, Dear Reader…

*’rollie stone’… /:D… *

Franglish Monkey Sync Sense goes for Smiles

Having a fascination with ‘signs’ and ‘syncs‘, I was interested to see, just how far the UK had “sunk”, so I clicked and started to read

‘ROLLING Stones guitarist Keith Richards proved he’s still got plenty of puff left — after being given permission to smoke on stage.

‘The 74-year-old rocker was seen having a crafty cigarette during the band’s show in London this week — aptly called their No Filter tour.

‘He was cheered by the crowd of 70,000 at The London Stadium in Stratford as he lit up, flouting the strict no smoking rule.’

GOSH

*/thinks and smokes… 70,000 people applauding the lighting of a cigarette, against the rules? In a stadium, Clicky, some believe hosted a magikal ceremony… /smokes and thinks… I wonder if the magik was intended as a one-off thing, or if the potential lingers longer than anticipated?*

*Butt then aren’t we all born a bit slippy, Clicky? …/blows smoke rings…*

The next bit of the article I found particularly interesting, Dear Reader – the Local Authority expounds on the issue…

‘But Newham Council said it would not be taking any action because smoking was part of the act. ‘Smoking on stage is permitted “where the artistic integrity of a performance makes it appropriate for a person to smoke”, therefore no action will be taken,’ it added.’

*As You Like it… /final drag… Underworld may have directed the music but Shake Sphere’s Tempest formed the basis of that magikal ceremony in 2012, Clicky… /fills air with smoke… And he’s still going…*

ode-by-a-smoking-brexiteer

*Smoking is an art, Clicky… /stubs butt… Sonnet 6+6+6… Ya Ken?*

Time for a Song, Dear Reader. Enjoy rest rest of Whitsun ❤

*Really, Clicky? I’d have had money on you going with a Stones Song…*

Pimple Prick Eruption: A Roob/Click Convo Fragment

*/Dons PPE… Ready then, Clicky, play the vid…*

*Captain Cook’s Sandwich Islands? …/lights up… I’m Kveen of Sammiches, Clicky… /drags… Hey, didn’t you send some Bubbles in Hugo’s direction earlier today? …/streams smoke…*

Masterful Thumbs Up

*/taps teeth… Cade started his post yesterday with a rather large bubble, Click …/deep drag…*

Sweet Master

*/blows smoke ring… Yeah, he teally is a sweetie, Clicky… *

*Yikes! …/flicks ash…*

‘In other words, what’s happened over the last eight days was just “cleaning out the pipes” so to speak.’

*/final drag… She’s a right Nuclear Wintour… /snorts smoke… Didn’t Trinny work for her? …/stubs butt…*

 

Missive From ‘Merica: With ADDED WOO

Been on a bit of cultural exchange these past two weeks, Dear Reader…

Adventure Time

*Indeed, Clicky! …/pats snout…*

… Whereby I’ve been introducing The Okie Devil of Text Us to Doctor Who

*It’s been an Utter joy, Clicky, bouncing around time and space with Cade… /lights up… Seeing things anew…*

… And in return, he has introduced me to Doowdaed

*No shit! It’s called Deadwood?! …/rubs eyes… Actually, Clicky, that does makes more sense… /drags…*

… And we’ll continue with more of that later today…

*/coughs… I ain’t shown him that one yet! …/taps ash… Mind you… /smokes… touch and hearing in one clip, Clicky? Fucking clever!*

Woo Hoo

In the meantime, Cade has very kindly sent a missive for us all to enjoy, Dear Reader…

*******

 

giphy

Where have I been?

Where have YOU been is likely a more appropriate question.

I've been taking a break.

Getting my bikini figure into shape for Bikini Season.

Let’s remedy that.

^DJ Shredda – Chainsaw (The Crow Mix)^

Let’s come me come clean. I’ve been avoiding anything and everything on the web, except Twitter, and I’ve been doing that for the last few months. I don’t care what it is, I don’t want to see it, and I don’t want to hear it. Those “pokes from else and/or elsewhere” have gotten too numerous. My feet, legs and hips are cramping almost non-stop, and it fucking hurts.

So yeah...vacation. 

I keep thinking about some 16 year old girl shooting herself. Can’t get it out of my fucking head. That, and this goddamn anti-smoking bullshit. Oh, and I’m trying to write. So there’s that. I also keep swirling around swirls. That has led me to some interesting thoughts on “flat space(s)”, so I’m gonna ramble about some of that…

assuming it's A-O-fucking-K with you.
^Acid Fighter (DJ Crow Remix) – Soundgrabber^


So what’s up with you where you are? It’s snowing outside here. Gonna put my cold weather gear on in a bit, go outside, and make a video. I doubt very seriously that most fucks are going to believe that it’s snowing in North Texas in late April, but it is. Once I make the video, we’ll have proof, the case will be solved forever, and there will be no reason to argue about the truth of spring snow(s) in Texas. I’ll keep you posted on where you can view the video.

^DJ The Crow meets DJ Arne LII – The Speed (Überdruck Mix)^


Why in the fuck would anyone care if North Korea/South Korea reunified? You running low on shit to talk about? Running low on shit to worry about? East Germany and West Germany got back together.

Maybe if you fucks would stop thinking in terms of big and small, you could actually focus. Or at least, make some discernment(s) as to what focus is.

Which reminds me, I got to thinking about the nature of focus with respect to membranes, and it got me to thinking about what is required to stretch a something so thin, that it results in the reduction of mass in certain sectors of the stretched membrane in such a way as to detract/reduce scale. Meaning, the reduction in mass does not cause a fundamental change in anything except scale.

Shrinking. 

Basically, a chain of say…Oxygen atoms…have become so stretched, all while retaining their relational bonds, that some atoms begin to shrink in scale. Methinks we are stumbling into/onto some gravity/anti-gravity kinds of things here.

^Norman Bass – How U Like Bass? (Warp Brothers Club Mix)^

Thinking more in terms of contextual processes that are created for the purpose(s) of creating something that does not currently exist, there are certain things that we can accept as being, for the most part…normal. Like say, the creation of a house using wood, that starts with the chopping down of a tree, and is followed by the chopping down of more trees.

Pretty normal sounding right? 

Welp, what about slamming sub-atom particles together at near the speed of light using the machines that we build in order to achieve this? Is that normal? Or can we consider it “normal” to qualify these activities as…abnormal.

Q: Is “sawdust” considered waste?

A: ???

Do we have processes in place to adequately deal with the ongoing sawdust issue(s)? Have we taken steps? Addressed concerns? Is the matter settled?

^Crash Bass – Hardshake^

Let’s focus

Focus (Optics)

Let’s get more focused

   Focus

We on the same page?

Let us turn it
^Gary Beck – Say What (Adam Beyer Remix) [SAVED RECORDS]^

I wonder how many membranes are breached in order to perform an “average” surgery.

Fascia
Fibromyalgia
Crystal Habit (Redirected from Fiberous habit)
Fiber
Dietary Fiber
Biodegradable Waste
Tortuous
Tortuosity
Tortious Interference
Tortuosamine
What Is a Tortuous Artery?
Twisted Blood Vessels: Symptoms, Etiology and Biomechanical Mechanisms

So can we assume that there is a difference between a perforation and a cut/incision? What about a stretch or strain? Wouldn’t an incision by a laser be both a perforation and a cut? No to mention the burn(ing).

^Hanayo – Joe le Taxi^


It’s just passed noon on Saturday April 28, and I’ve not been sleeping well. I’ve been dreaming non-stop for months now, but I guess its the season change that is currently fucking me up. I went on a 5 day drinking bender last week, and it did me some good. But still not sleeping very well. Guess I’m sweating heading to Austin a bit. Leaving for Austin soon, and looking forward to it, but also kinda nervous. The dynamics of the trip have suddenly changed. I’ll survive it tho. May even have some fun.

/me shrugs

On the up side, I’ve got the fever to write.

On the down side, I’m gonna be without my computer for a while.

I guess it's time to break out the pen and paper.

OH! I’ve got three stories in the new Underdog Anthology which was published this last week.

UAV front cover all named

I guess I need to write a post on it on my own goddamn blog.

^M83 ‘Midnight City’ Official video^


Got to thinking about the referential dynamics of gene sequences the other day, and the numbers went from “ridiculous” to “incomprehensible” almost immediately.

Picture This: two identical strands of DNA. One of these strands is located in the heart, and the other is flowing within the bloodstream. Now, imagine these two strands in relation to one another. Now think about the sequence in each strand. Do the sequences remain constant? What about in relation to each other?

I mean, we are talking more about cryptography/cryptology than we are about relationships or gene sequences/gene sequencing, so what about discretion, distinction and/or discrimination? Is there potentially some magic in the spacial relationships and orientations of identical things? What about like things? Similar not same kinds of things?

Cryptography
Discernment
Discernment of Spirits
Discrimination

So yeah, if you get two identical things together, what are they now?

Spooky action at a distance?

Or does the action always and forever need to follow a predefined path?

^Boy Harsher — Pain^

Was talking to a certain someone this week about “GUT”, and espoused that this particular pursuit is going to have to include multiple elements, and that the omission of a simultaneous “constructive/destructive” is likely why these efforts to construct a unification continues to fail and/or be elusive.

Grand Unified Theory

Whatever this “GUT” winds up being will have to have contextual nature, and I added Earth/Terra and Sun/Sol distinctions.

EX: The GUT on Earth/Terra will not be applicable on Mars, and the GUT on The Sun/Sol will differ from the GUT on Earth/Terra. We are in motion, and the only constant state appears to be that of “change” and/or “changing”, depending on where you are and when.

Perspective(s).

So yeah, there is likely a metric shitload of fucktons of galactic considerations that also need to be made. Maybe The Zodiac ain’t such a stretch afterall, eh? I mean, if these distant gamma ray bursts are suddenly of global concern because we can now see/detect them, that means that they’ve always been a concern. So I got a question for you…

Q: What’s your fucking hurry?

A: ¿?¿

Maybe if you fucks weren’t so goddamn wrapped up in the fatalistic ends of the more modern interpretations Darwinian theory/theories, you wouldn’t be so fucking anxious to win your very own Darwin Award, and take the rest of us with you in the process.

^Kiesza – Hideaway (Official Video)^

Yes, I am suggesting that certain sectors of science seem to be pretty goddamn fatalistic. I mean fuck, we can get that fatalism bullshit from religion. We don’t need it from you too.

But you’re free to do what you want.

Blow it all up.

😐
^Azari & III – Hungry for the power (Jamie Jones remix)^

 My brain hurts.

Imma go get something to eat, then video the snow for anyone who wants to see it.

^’I FINK U FREEKY’ by DIE ANTWOORD (Official)^

cYacFa

^Hey Boy Hey Girl (Soulwax ‘2 Many DJ’s’ Remix)^

*******

Feeding time

*Yeah, I’m hungry too, Clicky… /stubs butt… Let’s get sumfin to eat…*

Dear Reader? CYL… 😉 …and have a Song ❤

Who Noob Tales: The Tramp & The Little Blue Box

tramp

*Ugh, ghastly biscuits, Clicky… /sticks out tongue in disgust… It was bad enough smelling them being made, walking past the the Peeky Freaky factory, twice a day… /flicks lighter… Snot my taste… /lights up…*

This week, Dear Reader, I have been introducing Cade to Doctor Who. He’s a Who Noob…

*Knot anymore he ain’t, Clicky… /snickers…*

… And last night I also introduced him to the the Noble Donna…

*Martha was the night before, Clicky… /drags… And Rose and Captain Jack at the weekend… /streams smoke…*

Cade and Roob Partners in Crime Chat 1Cade and Roob Partners in Crime Chat 2Cade and Roob Partners in Crime Chat 3Cade and Roob Partners in Crime Chat 4

*No River Song is tonight, Clicky… /puffs contentedly…*

“If you ever see a little blue box, flying up in the sky, you shout for me Gramps.”

Thoughtful Man and I had a blue box experience today, Dear Reader…

Mayfair Warning

*/puffs angrily… Is there nuffin the bint won’t do to get out of Brexit, Clicky? /flicks ash… Don’t answer…*

Because I work on the 13th floor of the Tower, and because I have to take at least 20 minutes for lunch for my ‘health and safety’ – my time is flexible; I can bank the rest –  I take one cigarette to work with me each day. Carried in a salvaged, old-style box. Today’s was a Mayfair box…

“You’ll never guess what happened at lunch today,” I told Thoughtful Man, shrugging off my coat, after he’d brought me home from work. He’s thoughtful like that. “I gave my cigarette to a tramp.”

Thoughtful Man squinted hard, the way he does when I mention I’ve given something away. Or interacted with tramps. I have form…

another tramp story

*That’s another story, Clicky… /final drag… Now don’t interrupt… /stubs butt… I’m tryin’ to fiction-all-lies an actual factual happening… /blows smoke rings…*

“Why?” he asked bluntly.

“Because she asked me for it,” I said innocently, slipping out of my work shoes and rolling down my tights. The first thing I do when I get home is strip off my work clothes. The change from formal to informal is one of the little pleasures I take from my day.

Thoughtful Man’s squint soften slightly. “She?”

“Yes. I saw her in the lobby of Tower as I was going out to smoke. Didn’t think anything of it ‘cos we get all sorts coming in everyday,” I said, pulled my dress up over my head. “Anyway, I went and sat in my usual place on the window ledge, round the side of the building. It’s less windy.”

Thoughtful Man was silent but I just knew what he was thinking…

spaced skip to the end

*I’ll get there, if you stop interrupting me! …/huffs…*

I pulled on some jogging bottoms and Thoughtful Man’s old, raggedy sweatshirt. “And I’d nearly finished smoking my cigarette, when the lady tramp ambles round the corner. She was holding up a bottle of perfume.”

“Perfume?” Thoughtful Man interrupted me. “Like she was going to mace you?”

“Yeah. Do you know her?”

Thoughtful Man sighed; he encounters all sorts every day too driving his taxi round the mean streets of our town. “She’s completely fucking mad. I saw her today as well, when I was standing on the rank.”

I plonked myself in my Library chair and lit up a cigarette. “She didn’t spray me or anything. She asked me for a cigarette. I only had the one and I’d nearly finished smoking it. I said ‘Sorry’ and showed her the empty Mayfair box.”

“What did she say?”

I grabbed our small dog, who’d been buzzing round my feet, trying to lick my ankles. “She asked me for the one I was smoking. So I gave it to her.” I ruffed Poppy’s floppy ears and she gave me a smelly, wet, licky kiss in return. “And then she asked me for the empty packet.”

Thoughtful Man stiffened. “Did you give it to her?”

“Well yeah. I’ve got other empty boxes saved.” Oh how I hate the god-awful plain packaging government has foisted on us.

Poppy jumped off my lap and trotted over to Thoughtful Man, who picked her up for a tummy tickle. “I must have seen her after you did because, when she walked past me, she threw an empty Mayfair box at my feet.”

“Really?” I asked with a squint. I didn’t know whether to be amazed at her aim or annoyed that she’d dumped my little, blue box. “Did you pick it up?”

“No.” Thoughtful Man looked aghast. “She’d screwed it up.”

“Damn!”

rabbiting on

*Shit! …/clocks time… I’ve got a double-bill planned for Cade tonight. We’d better finish up, Clicky… /pats snout… Still, no work tomorrow, eh? Come on flexible time!*

Got to go, Dear Reader… Have a Song…

Five Alive? Defo!

*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

feather powered happiness

*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…

sign for blue frank

*Much better but it still looks like worshipers or sumfin’ to me, Clicky… /drags deeply… In sinister black… /snorts smoke…*

… and find an answer.

school for deaf street sign new york

*Those are hands!*

hans gruber

*/reads slowly… School For Deaf …/squints… Dept of Transport… /final drag… Oh! The yellow buses! It’s a bus stop sign, Clicky! … /streams smoke…*

applause sign

*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…

…As my good friend, Cade, might say…

‘MYSTERY SOLVED! NEXT!’

music sign

*Okay then…/lights up… And as you’re such a clever Clicky, you can choose…*

Dear Reader… Have a Song 😀