Missive From ‘Merica: Tapestry? */snap…* His Story!

Cade sent across another missive last night, Dear Reader, and I’m delighted to present it for your perusal, below.

I believe the Okie Devil was inspired to write it by the Bayeux Tapestry, and the news that it could be leaving France for the first time in 950 years, to be displayed in the UK…

*Ha! My favourite tweet on the subject, Clicky… /lights up…*

alan-alan-rickman-31594018-400-254

*/shrugs… Harold Godwinson was the last of the Anglo-Saxon kings, Clicky…*

*/drags… He’s not wrong… /streams smoke… I LOVE that album…*

*******

GET YOUR SHIT WIRED TIGHT…AND THEN WE’LL TALK!!!

Is this the dogma of “The West”?

Is this the dogma of “business”?

Is this the dogma of “government”?

Surely this cannot be the dogma of government. If someone has their shit together, the government should have no business whatsoever with me.

Oh really? 

How do they know “your shit is wired tight”?

GET YOUR SHIT WIRED TIGHT…OR ELSE!!!

IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER…WE’RE GONNA HAVE A TALK!!!

Everything, about all of those, says…

“AWAY!!!”

Go away.

Stay away.

Stay back.

Keep back.
Back away.
And don't stop until you fall off the planet.
^Crystal Chakra Meditation 1 Hour^

I just saw one of those “vanishing Tweets” and was about to comment on it, but it disappeared. A shame too, because it was interesting. I guess I’ll have to do my own homework…so let’s get to it!

The Tweet was about The Bayeux Tapestry, and the Tweet contained a picture of a news story, and the headline asserted that…

“The tapestry is a great historical so-and-so about The Battle of Hastings”

…then asked the question:

“…but is it any good.”

I was only allowed to see the Tweet for a moment, because when I went to start writing my comment, I got a pop-up that said…

“You may not be able to complete this action”

…so I refreshed my page to see if something had gone wack with my browser, but when the page finished refreshing, the Tweet was gone.

Now…I’ve noticed quite a few “disappearing Tweets” from this particular user. But before we get too hung up on “the commercial aspects/angles” and/or “social/political/personal implications” of someone deleting Tweets, let’s pick a better, more juicy target to pick on…

me.

I found the story….

The Bayeux Tapestry – historic, yes, but is it any good? Johnathan Jones

I don’t have the text of the Tweet, but as soon as I saw the headline, and thought about what I thought the headline said, it got me to IMMEDIATELY thinking…

DUDE!!! You read ALL of that shit completely…fucking…WRONG!!!

But before I get to picking on myself too much, let me tell you the first thing that popped into my head upon reading the Tweet…

“The Bayeux Tapestry is going up for sale.”

The Tweet did not contain a link to the story, which is why I was going to comment at all. I figured that the author of the Tweet had given all of the information they cared to give, and was hoping that someone would engage with them based on the facts presented. And what were the facts presented?

  • Screen-shot image of story,
  • Tweet text comment from user, which included a reference to “1066”.

I recall “1066” being in the text of the Tweet, but that’s all I recall. The rest of the contents is kinda…fuzzy…but I remember the overall vibe of the text. So…having watched this particular user for a while, let’s now go back, and see if they’ve made a new Tweet with the same contents.*

*My thinking at this point is, they forgot something, deleted the Tweet, and will make a new Tweet with the missing/corrected whatever.

^Muse – Madness^

BINGO!!!

At the time of this writing, it shows that the tweet was made 21 minutes ago, which means that it took me 21 minutes to think about, and write, all that bullshit above. No fucking wonder I don’t write for a living. I digress.

The text of the above tweet is different from the text of the original Tweet. At this point, I am half-tempted to DM the user, and ask her if she would be so kind as to provide me with the text of the original Tweet.

But I'm not going to do that. 

I’m going to do what I normally do, which is blunder around in the dark, and do the best that I can with what I have. This may sound egotistical, but the only thing that I really have, is me. A dark, dense, blundering, blabbering me, and the bright flashes that come from elsewhere/others. I take those flashes from others, mold them into something my own, and hopefully, flash back. Who sees these “flashes” of mine?

/me shrugs

No idea. In my mind, that’s not quite the point. “The point” is to be inspired, and further inspire.

/me shrugs again
^Florence + The Machine – Dog Days Are Over (2010 Version)^

All videos have stopped working for me on Twitter. Embedded videos no longer work, and I can no longer save images by right-clicking and choosing “save-as”. Now that I think about it, right-clicking on anything gives me nothing at all. My pop-up menu functionality within Twitter seems to have been removed. I can’t even intentionally click on a pic or vid and get it to work.

I admit that the auto-play bullshit irritates the fuck out of me, because most of my time on Twitter is spent with a DM chat window open. If I open that DM window, and there is some looping shit embedded and playing behind that DM window, then eventually, Twitter dies, and it usually takes my browser(s) with it. And if I remember to scroll to where there are no vids behind the DM window, I also have to make sure that I have hidden any auto-playing streaming bullshit in the sidebar.

That said, Twitter still crashes all the fucking time, and it is a fucking resource hog, but I must point out, that this is the price of automating and automation. If you want shit to do everything for you…there’s a price to pay for that.

I gotta think tho, that if shit like this isn’t an indication,that Twitter is doing something about these perceived “problems” that Twitter has, you just aren’t looking. And if you customize the living shit out of your Twitter to work for you and only you, then you’ll have no idea what others may be seeing/not seeing, nor how they are seeing it.

To be fair, I’m running an operating system that is no longer supported, and using a browser that is no longer supported/no longer updated, all running on a computer that is no longer supported.

If that ain’t some “Logan’s Run” type shit, I don’t know what is.

GET UPDATED, OR GTFO GRANDPA!!!

STFU AND STFD ON YOUR WAY OUT OLD MAN!!!

😐
^Massive Attack – Angel^

Let’s get back to this tapestry/Tweet. I went to Google, searched for “the bayeux tapestry” (without quotes) and there were three news stories at the top of the results.

Bayeux Tapestry to be displayed in UK for the first time

The Bayeux Tapestry shows Britain’s birth as a European nation

The Bayeux Tapestry – historic, yes, but is it any good? Johnathan Jones

When I clicked on the second story link, the headline on the story itself was different from the headline that Google was showing in its results. The headline in Google’s results was…

“Why the Bayeux Tapestry’s loan to Britain is a homecoming”.

Isn’t that “bait and switch” kinds of shit? Grab you with one thing, then switch it to something else? Like…”a funhouse” at a carnival. Many times, there’s not much fun going on in a funhouse. Anyway…I found the story that I was looking for, have now found that there is a new Tweet that replaced the deleted one, so what is left?

A: Me.

Me, me, me, and only me, surrounded by a bunch of shit that isn’t mine, and I’m left with only:

A) what I take away from this experience, and

B) what I do with it from there.

What possible good could come from some uneducated and unemployed loser, spending is “free time” contemplating “the dynamics of the world”? I dunno. That’s not my job. That’s your job. I only work here.

Q: Is there some “omen” associated with “The Bayeux Tapestry” coming to England?

A: Or did I just make that shit up?

The process of trying to understand confusing shit, while looking at confusing shit…is…confusing. That said, why would you ever think that “confusion” would be clear? Is where we are, so contextually clear, that it’s confusing?

Clarity = Clear

Confusion = Confusing

Did I word/list those correctly?
^Junkie XL – Dark Territory^

OK, I guess I didn’t make that “omen” shit up…

‘Although there is no direct connection between typical celestial events and the affairs of humans, our superstitions have resulted in many dramatic consequences.’

So what is the connection? I dunno. History is history. If you are looking for and to history, as some sort of roadmap to the future? Yeah…you might be missing some shit. Primarily, what are you going to do when the road ends? What you are going to do when you tumble off the map? That’s, when you are prolly going to start looking around for signs and wonders. Something…ANYfucking-thing to give you some clue as to where you went wrong…

what went wrong…

where you are…

where to go from there.

If you’ve got compatriots along for the ride, there’s prolly going to be some pissing and moaning.

Just sayin'.
^Junkie XL – Today (UNKLE Remix)^

Getting back to my thoughts about “The Bayeux Tapestry being sold”…there’s a few things that come to mind…

  • I’ve no fucking clue where it is, nor who owns it,
  • Is it possible, that once it gets to where it is going, that it will never leave there?
  • SURELY no one is stupid enough to try and steal it.

So…given the fact that I know fuck all about this tapestry, why would “It’s Going On The Market” be the first thing to pop into my head? Prolly because that’s about the only time that “art” is in the news. Which… isn’t writing an art? Or at least, an art form? Both? Is there some sort of artisan pissing contest going on there?

But let’s say, that there is some political wrangling going on. Now, what could that be about? Brexit? Political favors being exchanged? Surely thieves would not be stupid enough to wait until the tapestry was actually on British soil to steal it. I guess that would depend largely on “who the thieves are”…wouldn’t it? What are those rules about making political statements?

It must be public, and brutal.

Some scapegoats and/or patsys would prolly come in handy as well.

Now I remember why I don’t like thinking like this.

Now I remember why I don’t like writing fiction.

^Junkie XL – Tennis^

Thinking now about the year 1066, thinking about Haley’s Comet which last appeared in 1986, thinking about the year 2066, and considering that it is currently 2018, let’s go backwards a bit and see what was going on in the year 1018.

1018

Let’s us see what was going on in Europe…

Peace – Bautzen
Battle – River Bug
Battle – Vlaardingen
Resistance – Bulgarian
Surrender – Kiev
Battle – Cannae
Battle – Carham
Succession – Denmark

WHEW!!! That’s some fucked-up shit right there!!! It started off with peace, then went straight to hell. Even so, that January peace? If they found peace in January of 1018, doesn’t that mean that someone was at war in 1017?

^AWOLNATION – Run (Audio)^

What I am primarily thinking about, is a book idea that I have. This book has been bumping around in my head for a very long time, and it’s called “1033”. Or, it will be, should I ever actually write the fucking thing.

It’s the story, of a dude born in 1967, and this dude manages to survive a fuckton of adversity that no one said he would survive, and somehow lives to see the year 2000. Not only that, the guy goes on to live to see the year 2100. Even more fantastic than that? He goes on to see the year 3000. Hence, 1033. The story, is about the stories that this guy tells, how he tells them, who he tells them to, and why. A traveler. A time-traveler, yes…but a different kind of time traveler. Or at least, his travels here and now are a shade different. Where does it go from 3000 C.E.? Welp…that’s where things get really fucking interesting.

Heh...heh...heH.

Enough of that bullshit…let’s get back to reality. Once we get back to reality, we can talk about data preservation, data retention, and legacy.

^Junkie XL – dealing with the roster^

I’m writing this bullshit in OpenOffice’s Writer application, and this is WAY fucking different than writing shit in MS WordPad. The text is fucking HUGE, and I’ve not found the courage to try and tinker with the settings so that everything on the screen isn’t so goddamn massive.

The other thing that is irritating, is that Writer turns all URLs into hyperlinks automatically. Well, only if you use a hard return after pasting in the text of a URL. I personally arrow around a lot when navigating around a document. Meaning: when and where I can, I use the arrow keys on the keyboard to get around. Prevents me from having to use the mouse. The mouse is fucking GREAT for some computer uses. Surfing the web is one, but for text and/or documents?

Nope.

If you want to push your “skillz” try and challenge yourself to surf The Web without using the mouse. It can be done. You’re going to have to learn a fuckton of keyboard commands and hotkeys, but that’s the point…learning. That shit is there for a reason. Computer engineers aren’t idiots, and they certainly aren’t stupid. Just because you get to benefit from the simplicity of a mouse click and/or hotkey combination, doesn’t mean that the engineers who designed that functionality didn’t spend a fucking FUCKTON of time developing the systems and procedures that made that key-combo and/or mouse click such a simplicity for you. I can assure you, they did, and they do. All so you can better do all of that hard complex shit that you need to do in order to get your job done.

🙂

^Junkie xl – Spirits ft. Saffron^

Frank over at Merovee has a new article up…

1 Central Park, Trump And Paddock

I read through it last night, and it got me to thinking about “compression”. I didn’t comment over there, but I thought about it as I laid in bed and tried to go to sleep last night, and now here I am commenting about it here.

Stew. Redux. Compression. Loss. Ratios. Numbers. Compression. Expansion.

That last bit messed with my head a bit. I was thinking on expansion from a Universal perspective regarding a Galactic context. Meaning: A Galaxy expanding within a Universe that is neither expanding nor contracting. Prolly some speed considerations to be made there, and some time(s) considerations to be made as well.

If the Universe and A Galaxy are both expanding at the same time, there is prolly going to need to be some synchronious/synchronous timings to accommodate both, as well as some asynchronious/asynchronous timings to offset. How can an offset amend?

Offset
Amend
Offset
Amend
UTC Offset

My thinking is that sometimes, you need to simultaneously know not only how fast you are going, but also how fast you are NOT going. Why? Simple. Observers. There’s more to sensing and senses than just and only sight.

^Hans Zimmer – Inception (Junkie XL Remix)^

If you are looking for something definitive, congrats…you’re there.

Welcome To Here...Population = You.
^deadmau5 – FML Again^

Last night, Whatshername made some grub, she notified as to its availability, and I wandered into the kitchen to feed my fat face. As I was poking at the lumpy wads of rice that remained in the rice cooker, I overheard my daughter talking about…erm…politics. Like…personal politics. Within her circle of friends, it appears that there was an exclusive gathering, and some within the circle were not invited. This caused those not invited some dismay, and Whatshername commented something to the effect of…

“Well, you know they are all very clicky.”

My youngest son was sitting at the table eating/listening, and he asked “what is ‘clicky’?”

Whatshername replied, “They’ve all got their own little groups, within the group, and these little groups are very clicky, meaning they only hang out with each other, and the rules of the larger group don’t apply to them.”

It turns out that this “group that gathered” was/is headed by the very person who makes the rules for the large group/whole group, and that rule is…

“no fraternizing in groups/sub-groups outside of the whole group”.

So…when this same person actually had a get together, and only invited a select few of the whole group, those not invited were…confused.

Clique

I loaded my plate as fast as possible, and retreated to my room.

^deadmau5 – It’s Not You^

I was gonna write some more bullshit, but I’m now at 7 pages, so I’m gonna dial it back, then cut it off. I usually just write until I don’t feel like writing anymore, then look at the physical file size to determine how large the post is going to be.

15k to 20k = meh

20k to 25k = average

25k to 30k = beefy

30k+ = wtf?!?!??!

What could POSSIBLY be on my mind, that I needed to write so much?

But this is my first post written in OpenOffice Writer, so, I’m trying to be mindful of that “page x/x” thingie down in the bottom left-hand corner.

But yeah…a clique. A club. A club of clubs.

Sounds like a beating.

😉

^FIRST OF THE YEAR (EQUINOX) – SKRILLEX^

cYacFa

^Coldplay – Paradise (Official Video)^

*******

*Yeah… /final drag… A brilliant film, Clicky… /stubs butt… That was another Sunday evening trip to the pictures with Mother… /licks lips… It was absolutely pissing it down that night…*

Dear Reader… Have an album 😉

Missive From ‘Merica: The Eclectic Metric

Cade the Okie Devil in Text US has sent through his first missive of 2018…

*/taps fingertips together with excitement… I think so too, Clicky… I can feel it in my water…*

Catch you bottom, Dear Reader… Enjoy! ❤

*******

This one is gonna be a shade different.

Is that OK with you? Good.

The following was written on last Tuesday…

=======================================================

Hi.

It’s Monday January 2rdst of 2018.

Let’s get to it.

^ATTLAS – Chemical Low Moan^

If the road isn’t serving your needs?

Divide it.

You’ve the right of way…right?

^deadmau5 – Saved^

A certain someone has been picking at my smallish brain about proceedural types of considerations in certain environments. Such as “English” being the “common language” amongst pilots/aviators. I live in a country that speaks English for the most part, so speaking English while flying kinda makes sense to me. I’ve been abroad, so speaking English while flying makes sense to me, but also kinda not.

That said, aviation has its own vernacular. Things borrowed from elsewhere or created out of necessity to represent something specific. No real mystery there because we do that everywhere…but…it’s certainly mysterious.

Or at least, it can be. 

But the objective is communications and communicating. We rely on each other to pull that off. As to whether or not the communications are successful? Let’s wait until we are either safely in the air, or safely on the ground to discuss the particulars…k?

^Matt Lange – You’ll Remember Me (ATTLAS Remix)^

Communications are going to get crossed. Garbled. Misunderstood. To expect 100% is the same as expecting 0% because there are no margins for error. No room for forgiveness. No room to navigate in the moment. That seems to present a domino type of situation where all involved are equally responsible, which means they are potentially equally irresponsible. Or am I being too specific?

^ATTLAS – Burned^

There was a Tweet that caught my eye…

I’ve been thinking about the resonance of metal(s) and stone(s), and other building materials as is pertains to construction. But more than that, I’ve been thinking about transportation of these same things.

Q: Does the Earth/Terra notice when something is moved?

A: !!!

Why wouldn’t our planet know when something is missing? Why wouldn’t our planet notice when something suddenly appears? There seems to be accommodation(s) made in the environment for things to appear and disappear…right? So…all that gold in, say, Kentucky, would you be willing to entertain the possibility that our planet knows where every atom of gold in Kentucky came from?

If so, do you really want to trace that knowing of when and where that gold came from for the entirety of the suspected 13.8 billion year age of our Universe? Might wanna think about carbon and your dating methods before answering. You might get lost in time somewhere.

Just sayin'
^How to Disappear Completely – Radiohead Cover^

This one is gonna be a shade different.

Is that OK with you? Good.

The following was written today, which is today.

j/k

Today, is Sunday January 7th, 2018.

The above is as far as I got last Tuesday. It was a weird week. Having trouble thinking. It’s like another one of those transitional phases where everything is shifting. Or at least, everything is shifting in my head. When this happens, it’s almost like playing catchup with myself in my head. Loads of shit that I’ve not thought about in a while comes crashing in, and I’ve gotta kinda reconcile what falls where as it relates to stuff that I’ve added.

Normally, I would kinda keep this sort of shit “under control” by reading and commenting on blogs elsewhere, along with writing missives/whatevers. But I’ve been avoiding that.

Meh...whatever.
^ATTLAS – Tiff’s Theme^

So yeah…onward…from here…

=======================================================

Q: Is a nuclear weapon fluid?

A: ???

No? The how did it come together? How did something, that is designed specifically to come apart, come together, if it is not fluid?

Oh…and good morning to you.

^Echobelly – Kali Yuga^

Was just watching a documentary on Rocky Flats weapons plant in Colorado…USA. In it, there was a bit where the plant had tried to dispose of waste by mixing it with concrete, then storing it in blocks after the concrete dried. Um…we’re talking about radioactive shit here…right?

Rocky Flats Plant

Rocky Flats Truth Force

Dark Circle (Film)

Unfortunately, the concrete blocks started to leak and/or melt.

Oozey. 

So now, they are oozing radioactive shit everywhere, from a long-term storage area. I wonder if it rains in Colorado?

^Albert Hammond – It never rains in southern California + text^

Got to thinking about this new Counter-Social website that is supposed to be some alternative to Twitter because the latter blocks half the planet from using the website. I thought about it, mainly because I was kinda curious as to how it was working out for those that switched from Twitter to Counter-Social when all that…whatever it was…happened.

Just…how’s it going? Nothing more than that. But as I started to think about asking, something occurred to me, and as I type this, even more is occurring to me. But what first occurred to me is “why jump ship, just because there is suddenly an alternative that seems better?”

Three Sisters (Oregon)

It’s your life, you can do whatever you want with it, and you don’t need me to tell you that. But whitelisting and blacklisting is nothing new to The Internet.

Whitelist

Blacklisting

Greylisting

IUCN Red List

Seems we are big on lists and listings.

Angle Of List

Seems we are REALLY big on lists and listings.

^Al Stewart – Year Of The Cat^

It’s never…the machine.

Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire

March 25th 1911.

It’s never…the machine’s fault.

The reason? Welp, when shit breaks…you can’t get your hands around the throat of the guy who designed the sewing machine. You can’t get your hands around the guy who built the machine. You can’t get your hands around the neck of the guy who designed or built the part within the machine that failed. You can only get your hands around the neck of the guy who bought the machine…and that’s YOU.

You can't choke yourself to death. 

The machine that sits atop the machines must run, and you are the machine that runs the machines. There must be someone else to blame. So…let’s find them, and make them pay.

Fault

Once the fault has been established…

                   all we gotta do now…

is tear them a new one.

^Triangle Fire | PBS American Experience^

There’s only one way to “not”.

Don’t.

Knot that up, remember it, or not, whatevz.

😉
^AL STEWART “Time Passages”^

Dunno where this song came from, and I hate this type of music, but…meh. Someone else might like it.

^Karen Peck & New River – Everybody’s Going Through Something^

Is January too late to keep “The Christmas Spirit” going? I thought of mentioning to whatshername that she might wanna consider taking the Christmas lights down by February. They are still up, still plugged in, still burning every night.

Doesn’t bother me – I love Christmas lights – but the city that I live in starts ticketing people in February if Christmas lights are not taken down. And I mean like they have people drive around during the day to check and see if there are still exterior Christmas lights on your home or in your yard. If so, they ticket you. Maybe that’s why “The Christmas Spirit” hauls ass after New Years.

/me shrugs
^Carol of the Bells – Amazing Piano Solo – David Hicken^

For some people, their business is Christmas 365/366 days a year. Nooooo…I’m not talking about those weirdos at The North Pole.

^Christmas 2013: Inside a Chinese toy factory^

For some people, their business is Christmas 365/366 days a year. Nooooo…I’m not talking about those weirdos at The North Pole.

^Electronic Toy Market – Yiwu China Futian Market^

For some people, their business is Christmas 365/366 days a year. Nooooo…I’m not talking about those weirdos at The North Pole.

^Wholesale toys market in Guangzhou on Yide street^

For some people, their business is Christmas 365/366 days a year. Nooooo…I’m not talking about those weirdos at The North Pole.

^Guangzhou Dream Factory – Trailer^

Ever watch a silent movie? Welp…NOW YOU CAN!!!

^Guangzhou (Canton) China in 1930^

How’d those fucks get up to The North Pole anyway? Don’t those assholes know, that the only way to get from one continent to another is via the land bridge provided by/near The Bering Straight? You can’t walk on ice. That shit melts.

Only humans are smart enough to know this.
^Bering Land Bridge Migration Theory^

If these ancient fucks were smart, they’d build a rocket, walk across the satellites, then parachute back to Earth/Terra. It’s the only way to get to where you are going. Which… where are you going?

Or is it none of my business.
^Why We May Not Be Able to Visit Space in the Future^

Did you know, that if all ice on Earth/Terra melts, we will all be dead. That means, we won’t be able to make and/or watch panic videos anymore.

😦
^How Will Earth Change If All the Ice Melts?^
How accurate were those in 1950 CE at predicting what life would be like in 2000 CE?

How accurate were those in 1968 CE at predicting what life would be like in 2018 CE?

How accurate were those in 2018 CE at predicting what life would be like in 2050 CE?

I guess we’ll find out on that last one…unless we’ve all long since drown.

I wonder if someone or something can drown in garbage?
^These Are the Events That Will Happen Before 2050^

Let’s ask Google a question…

Q: How heavy is CO2?

A: Carbon dioxide has one carbon atom and two oxygen atoms, and a molecular weight of 44 grams per mole. Hence, carbon dioxide has a higher density, or is heavier than air.

Let’s ask Quora a question…

Which is heavier air or carbon dioxide?

Wait…didn’t we get the same answer from both places? Meh…who cares. Anyway…I wonder what “the electrical content” is within air? All that shit floating around up there HAS to create a fuckton of friction. Doesn’t friction create static electricity?

Static

Static Electricity

Welp…if all this shit is moving, what is so “static” about it? Or is that the mystery. How shit moves, without moving at all, all while…moving.

(gulp...weird)

Movement (Clockwork)

Speaking of movements, I need to go take a shit…BRB.

^20 Signs You Are Being Gaslighted! Psychological Abuse by Narcissists & Sociopaths^

AH!!! I feel refreshed!!!

Um…can robots shit? Or do they rely completely, and totally, on you to keep their fluid levels where they need to be and keep their asses wiped for them? There is something to be said about the art of shit…

Poop

Turds
Dookie

Growlers

Scat

Stool

Fecal matter

DOO DOO!!! DOO YOU NOT HAVE ENOUGH WORDS FOR METABOLIC WASTE?!?!?!?

Feces

Anyway, there are quite a few nested processes in place that involve repackaging last night’s dinner for something/someone else. I dunno what you ate last night, but it prolly looked a shade better when you shoved it into your pie hole than it did when it came out.

And yet, were you to shit in your front yard for a few months, you’d have the best looking lawn in the neighborhood in no time. Might not have any neighbors around to see it cause they’ve all moved…but a nice lawn nonetheless. If you are on a septic system, that’s how you can tell if your septic tank is leaking. The grass around it will be growing like mad, and it will be tall and green. Prolly trying to get away from your stinky poo.

But yeah, not much goes into in/out considerations for robots in robotics…it’s all about the brain and smarts. Prolly stings to a robot to not have any way to relate as to what is transpiring and what a person is going through when they take a shit. So with that in mind, and thinking about all the other differences between humans and robots, how well can we ever really relate?

I've no idea.
^Broken Social Scene – Protest Song (Official Audio)^

So…how can something survive supporting it’s own weight?

So…how can something survive supporting it’s own wait?

Roob pointed out Lamb Waves to me the other day. Something I had added to a Missive/Whatever sometime back. That has been thinking about distances more than anything. I’m thinking fluidity and solidity here, but a more progressive type that is contextual based on the observer/participant.

EX: Air is heavy as fuck. But you typically need wind in your face to detect this. That’s why any and all objects that are dropped from altitude, will tumble. The only way around this, is to know this in advance, and accommodate the mechanics of it, depending on what you are dropping.

Such as…

Phoenix Shot Tower

That’s why rifling in the barrel of a firearm helps a bullet to not tumble as it falls.

And yes...a bullet is falling.

Rifling

Dew Point

Dew…Point.

Doo…Point.

Coincidence?

Coincidense is more like it.

I’m kinda dumb, and slow too, so it takes a while for my dumb and stupid to catch up to one another.

😉
^Cocteau Twins – Donimo^

It’s currently 11:03 on Sunday January 7th 2018, and I’ve stumbling around on the above crap for a coupla hours now. But I’ve got some shit to get to. Such as… It was hinted at, that perhaps, I should read my recent short story aloud and record it.

I re-read most of it last night, and thought about how I would read it aloud. The conclusion that I came to, is that I would read it exactly as I heard it in my head as I wrote it. Granted, I’ve re-read the story several times, have noticed some things that I would change in order to better help a reader understand what I am talking about, but there are few of these. I don’t want to be patronizing to the reader. Not trying to be condescending either, but I also want to tell my story.

The only way I can do that, is to actually tell my story. Only I know what I was thinking as I wrote it and, as I wrote it, I found that I was omitting as much, if not more, than I was actually writing. But in thinking about it now, we can’t do everything at once. I mean, the point is getting there…right? Sure, being there is great…but we gotta get there to do that. Lotta twists and turns, and a lotta boring straightaways mixed in there too.

^Soulwax – Do You Want To Get Into Trouble? (Official Video)^

In a few minutes, I’m gonna fire up Audacity, and see if I can record me reading my story using my headphones, which has a microphone.

Audacity (Audio Editor)

I’m gonna do a few quick test recordings, see how the audio sounds, then go from there. If it works, I’m gonna read each section, convert the Audacity MP3 file to MP4, then upload it to YouTube.

Comparison Of Free Software For Audio

I gotta be mindful of the audio file size, because when I recently tried to transfer some of my music from analog to digital, the MP3 to MP4 file converter didn’t handle files around 100MB very well. In fact, it didn’t handle them at all. Not knocking the service, because the service is awesome.

100MB of audio to convert from one format to another is a tall order for a free online service. I’ll just have to be mindful of how big the audio files are, because I’ve no idea how long it will take for me to read it aloud. That’s why breaking it up section by section is prolly gonna be the way to go. Audio files tend to be huge as you work with them, and it takes a fuckton of compression to get the file size down to something more palatable.*

*This is in no way to imply that listening to me talk will be palatable. I’ve a really bad Texas accent, and several speech impediments that I’ve learned to accommodate and/or hide very well. Or at least, sometimes. No telling when they are going to crop up, which they tend to when I lose myself in what I am doing, and I am not being mindful of trying to put on an act for someone else.

^Birdy – Wings (Nu:Logic Remix)^

Could sound assist us in determining age? I got to speaking with Roob the other day about these Lamb Waves, and it got me to thinking about chasing phantoms. Meaning, if science and/or scientists are not studies of history, or at least somewhat of a study of histories, how can they be sure they are not chasing our own shadows?

The resonance of nuclear detonations HAS to still be resonating within our planet. Not to mention all of the drilling, all of the mining, all of the commercial blasting, all of the cars, all of the ships, all of the electricity and electrical gadgetry…that shit adds up.

^Chapterhouse – Pearl^

I am just wondering, at what point, are we discovering shit, that we actually created. We are rushing from discovery to discovery, and the time to actually look at these discoveries and compare them with others…is anyone doing that? Or is that left to “the fringe” idiots of global warming and conspiracy? Because I got news for you…

everything is valid at some point. 

Truth, falsehoods, doesn’t matter. A falsehood needs to be true, in order for it to be false. Get your head wrapped around that concept, and you can prolly see why the need for absolute divisions between the concepts of good and evil are perceived to exist.

^Aircrash Bureau – Time To Die (1990)^

Should we summarize and see where we made it to?

Never done that before.

Let’s skip it.

You’re more than capable of doing your own homework.

I suck at it.

🙂

^The Cure: The Snakepit^

I got a parting query…

Q: Can you be anything you aren’t?

A: ?¿?

Lemme word that differently…

Q: Can you be anything you cannot be?

A: ¿?¿

Yeah…both are valid pretty much. Of course, it depends on who you ask.

May wanna exercise judgement there as to who to ask, and who not to ask.

Might get punched in the nose.

Some angry people out there.

So I’m told anyway.

/me shrugs
^Rocky Flats “Secrets of a Bomb Factory”^

cYacFa

^The Cure – Prayers For Rain^

*******

rcq3o

*/rolls eyes… Yeah, I know you can Clicky…*

Happy New Year you Dear Reader, and a Happy New Year, Cade ❤ …Have a Song…

Past Presents Yet To Come…

Yesterday…

*Mellow, Clicky… Nice! …/lights up…*

The 8th December, was the anniversary of John Lennon’s death in 1980, Dear Reader. 37 years ago; I was reminded of that day whilst reading Blue Frank‘s post yesterday about May Pang, John Lennon’s girlfriend, briefly, in 1973…

*Weird, Clicky… /drags… Red Frank has a new MEROVEE post up today about a black hole discovery that’s puzzling scientists…/taps ash… created just after the Big Bang, like…*

Merovee The Grand Unifying Theory of Everything

*GUT of everything? …/drags… As John Lamb Lash mentioned at the end of his last talk… ‘See colon backslash’ …/blows smoke ring… The singularity… /stubs butt… I asked my good friend, ‘The Gut Doctor’ about 137 before, Clicky…*

u8la7yacohdfuy5se8crzu9h

*Roob-ID-I-um… /lights up…*

Rubidium-87 has a half-life of 48.8×109 years, which is more than three times the age of the universe of (13.799±0.021)×109 years, making it a primordial nuclide.

…Knot only that, Dear Reader, it was but a year ago, on December 8th 2016, that the very first Underdog Anthology was published. I was reminded of this reading Leggy update on the upcoming Christmas edition, posted last night…

The Good The Bad And Santa

*Leggy just emailed me a complete final copy, Clicky… /puffs merrily… It looks fucking AWESOME!!!*

Underdog Christmas Anthology Content

*That’s interesting, Clicky… /stubs butt… ‘Christmas Ever’ covers page 137… /lights up…*

There’s an additional treat included with three illustrations Leggy drew way back in the 80s. Three perfect Santa cartoons that illustration Christmas Past, Present and Yet to Come perfectly…

…And, Dear Reader, you may notice from the Contents page that a certain missive writer from Text US has a story included. I had the most enormous fun last weekend editing ‘Christmas Ever’, as Cade wrote it…

There is a real treat in this one for those who enjoyed Brian W. Aldiss’s excursions into the deeper, stranger SF regions. If you re-read his shorts such as ‘As for our Fatal Continuity’ and ‘Send Her Victorious’ (in ‘Comic Inferno’, well worth a read if you can still get it and the title story is in much the same vein too), and his novel ‘The Eighty-Minute Hour’ (which I read several times) then you are going to love this one. I’m not telling you the title yet, but I will when it’s ready to go.

*/squints… What’s that red book Cade’s using, Clicky?*

The Red Book Backdrop

*/rolls eyes… Figures… /continues to smoke…*

Sew… hopefully, Dear Reader, ‘The Underdog Anthology IV: The Good, the Bad and Santa’ will be available to everybody…

children warning

*/coughs… Don’t give Leggy ideas, Clicky!*

… Um, nearly everybody sometime before Thursday. I will post a link when it is and let you have a look at the Afterword corruption. In the meantime, have a good week, don’t be mean and… Have a Song… 😉

*/puffs… Clicky! I find the new title of that Song highly offensive… /streams smoke… Get another…*

Friday Purchases & Other Pressing Fings

Notice anything different, Dear Reader?

different

*The font, Clicky, the font! …/sigh… Why do I bother?*

Running dangerous low on memory space, I’ve had to upgrade the LoL’s WordPress account. I did this on Friday, whilst off work for “Christmas Shopping”. I now have more memory, no ads, a selection of fonts and themes to choose from, and a new domain

*Ha! …/pats snout… I love that show, Clicky …/lights up…*

Whilst I had the plastic handy, I decided to replace the lost copy of a book I used to own. And it has just been delivered! On a Sunday!

Jessicas Trap

I could have got it quicker by buying it for Kindle, but seeing as it was a Kindle version that was lost, I thought I would indulge in a tangible copy with built-in page turning sound effect…

*And scrolling too… /drags… It’s got it all…*

“Christmas shopping” completed, I spent the rest of Friday morning editing a short story Cade was writing for the upcoming Underdog Anthology

Cade tells Roob he feels hit by a train

It was funny him mentioning feeling like he’d been hit by a train, as I’d just been atweeting…

… And then it got weirder…

Cade gets to it whilst Roob listens to a talk

*/sings… I’m a singularity, I’m a singularity, I’m a singularity, I’m a singularity, I’m a singularity, I’m a singularity, I’m a singularity. Now up put your hands up…*

I mentioned Part 1 of John Lash’s Archonic Dementia talk previously and this is another longish one. But was so incredibly syncy that this time I took some notes. Kinda…

Roob notes 1

*Familiar themes here, Clicky… /scratches gnos…*

Roob notes 2

*/puffs merrily…*

I didn’t manage to listen to the talk all in one go…

Roob notes 3

Lashy really doesn’t like the proponents of AI and D Wave computing, likening them to “carnival barkers“. And then he mentioned something that brought me up a bit short

Roob notes 5

‘The cover image is the Seal of Solomon, the seal used on the brass vessel in which Solomon trapped 72 demons and their legions of spirits. I redrew the version in Goetia, scanned it then meddled with it in Paint Shop. It’s relevant to the story, as is the chosen colour and the strange object at the bottom of the back cover. That’s enough hints – no spoilers.’

Roob notes 6

Email from Ruth to Kevin on 2nd July 2014 Norman's House

Samuel’s Girl‘, the next book after ‘Jessica’s Trap’, has already been republished and ‘Norman’s House’ will finally see the light of day in the new year. As for what Lashy’s thinks ‘The Singularity of November 2017’ is…

river-song-spoilers

*Er… or Dear Reader could just simply listen to the talk, Clicky… /rolls eyes…*

Have a Song 😀

 

Pinch, Punch…

I hope you had a sufficiently spooky Halloween yesterday, Dear Reader…

A prominent American television host has fainted live on air, returning just minutes later to host the remainder of her programme.

Fifty-three-year-old Wendy Williams fell to the ground during a live broadcast of her morning show, in a segment dedicated to her annual Halloween costume contest.

If I may direct your attention to the recent LoL post, ‘Miss Chief Maker‘…

*Overheated, my arse, Clicky… She looked like she’d seen a… mouse?*

The Underdog Anthology Three: Treeskull Stories

bookcovertreeskull

Not long now ’til Christmas, Dear Reader 😉 Have a Song…

 

Miss Chief Maker

Dear Reader, the wait is over…

bookcovertreeskull

… the third volume of the Underdog Anthology is now available to buy!

As well as having a Harry and the FAKkers story included, I also had the very great pleasure of writing the Afterword again. This involves mangling a poem of great repute, to pass comment on modern political climes. And as this is a Halloween themed book, really there was only one choice of poet and one poem to tackle…

bronze-plaque-of-new-colossus

*Eww, Clicky! Lazarus rose from the dead, but that’s a completely different story…*

So, for your pleasure, and in the hopes that it might tempt you to buy the book (‘cos there are some absolutely corking stories contained within), please find below, ‘The Nuke Allows US‘ by Roo B. Doo, with illustrative illustration by H.K. Hillman…

The Nuke Allows US
There's nothing quite like America's aim,
With squabbling pols and a media grand;
Hollywood productions meticulously planned
A mighty mushroom cloud, a torch whose flame
Issues irradiation, and its name
Mother of All Wars. From the blackened land
Glows world-wide wonder; hegemony command
The Cold War winner of that global game.
“Keep in our good books now!” cries Liberty
With weighty lips. “Give us your money, your ore,
Your oils and gases (excludes banking fee),
The wealth contained in your burgeoning store.
Send all these and receive Democracy!”
*.../Lifts up arm, hand drops MIC to the floor...*

The Nuke Allows US

Now, as an extra special treat for all you synchromystics and synchnauts out there, here is a short talk from John Lamb Lash that you may find of interest. Eye gno I.D.ed… 😉

Until next time, Dear Reader… Have a Song ❤

*******

*/cough…*

*thank you, Clicky…*

‘Morning Run’ – An Underdog Anthology Tale

Dear Reader, the next volume of the Underdog Anthology – Treeskull Stories – is on track to be published for Halloween…

UA3 cover

This time I have contributed one story and the Afterword, as well as providing copy editing services to Leggy. This is a pleasure, not a chore, as I get to read the fabulous contributions from the other authors first. And for free…

*Clicky, that’s free knot three…*

*/rolls eyes…*

In anticipation of publication, I thought I’d share one of my stories from Anthology 2 with you, Dear Reader. So here is ‘Morning Run’ for your entertainment… Enjoy! 😀

*******

MORNING RUN

By Roo B. Doo

Gasping with pain, Marcus pulled the graffiti daubed door open and peered into the murk inside. The hinges squealed their resistance in the spring morning that should have been filled with birdsong but was disquietingly absent. He sniffed in disgust at the dank gloominess but the room appeared empty, and Marcus was more than happy about that – the thought of defecating anywhere other than his own bathroom filled him with dread but he doubted he would be able to sprint back home in time. As if in agreement, his stomach growled noisily.

Usually Marcus picked up the pace when he ran past the public toilets on his early morning jog through the park. The low, stone structure, vividly tagged in garish painted symbols, sat at the far point of his circuit. Set back from the path and surrounded by shady trees, it had an air of quiet menace in its seedy isolation, a haven for druggies and vandals, pervs too no doubt. Today, however, a crunching gut spasm had assailed Marcus as he approached the building. He’d pulled up sharply, clutching his stomach at the sudden crippling pain.

Marcus swore at himself for thinking he could just run off the sluggishness he’d felt at the previous night’s overindulgence at the local curry house. And the beery one at the pub beforehand. For months he’d been on a strict diet regime in training for the London Marathon. It was just rotten timing that his best friend Craig had chosen Easter, the weekend before, to get married. As Best Man there was no way Marcus could miss the stag night, and a stag is a stag – there’s no point going if you didn’t stagger a bit as a result. It would be his only blow out and, besides, he’d have a whole week to recover before the big race.

Although his guts were wildly churning, Marcus remained reluctant to go inside. He was okay pissing in public toilets but shitting was another matter. He couldn’t stand the thought of exposing his backside to where other naked backsides had rubbed or smeared, nor the thought of anyone listening in, passively participating and passing judgement on the size of his bowel.

He briefly squatted down in the doorway to scan for the feet of hidden stall occupants, and instantly regretted it. The pressure inside him moved and there was an audible glug! Marcus tensed his arsehole; it felt like a splenetic Vesuvius ready to blow its top. With a final nervous glance behind to make sure nobody was about to follow him in, Marcus stepped inside.

The gloom deepened as the main door swung closed behind him with a creaking thump. Now the eerie silence was broken by a leaking tap’s plink, plink, plink from the wash basin to his left, accompanied by the continued rumble from his guts. There were three toilet stalls in front of him and he made for the nearest, dodging the dirty puddles strewn with litter, tugging urgently at the drawstring on his shorts. Marcus was determined to spend as little time in the place as possible.

The cubicle door swung open at his touch, revealing a filthy, shit filled toilet. A worn and dirty trainer, half submerged among the turds, listed near the top of the bowl. He moved on to the next but that too was blocked. Fresh beads of sweat prickled Marcus’ brow, his dread intensified – if the last one was in as bad a condition he didn’t know what he would do. However, the last stall at least looked relatively clean and it had a lock on the door. Bonus! Marcus thought as he whipped down his shorts, sank onto the toilet seat with a resounding thump and let go.

He braced his hands against the cubicle walls to hold himself up as he felt the world cascading out of his arse, before splashing back to soak his crack and balls. Both relief at the release and cold revulsion washed through Marcus, as his breath rasped with every squeeze.

“Arghhh!” he screamed aloud as his gut achingly contracted again, but by now Marcus cared little if anyone was there to hear him; he just had to get it all out.

He closed his eyes and swore again at his stupidity. He just had to play the big man, didn’t he? Buying another round of beers, choosing the hottest and spiciest dishes on the menu, followed by shots, lots of shots. True, it had been a hell of a fun evening but, by God, he was regretting his decisions now. Not to mention Craig’s wedding was later that day; he only hoped he would have sufficient time to recover before then. With a grimace, Marcus resolved to take a double dose of imodium and have a shower as soon as he got home.

He shifted his position as the stinging flow turned into a trickle, releasing a waft of putridity that made him recoil and hold his nose. Reaching for the toilet roll he found the holder sheathed only with an empty cardboard tube. He slapped at it angrily and looked around but there was nothing else to clean himself up with. Sighing loudly, Marcus pulled off his outer vest top, balled it up and started to wipe his backside. It was one of his favourites but he would have to leave it – there was no way he was carrying it back home.

Feeling drained, Marcus stood up and pulled hard on the toilet chain, eager to flush the contents of his bowels away, but the only thing it made was an empty clank. He pulled again and again. Nothing. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Marcus peered into the toilet bowl as he pulled up his shorts. Shit splattered the inside and dribbled down into a dark brown pool of his slurry. He had to get out there fast before anyone else came by. Flinging the balled vest top to the floor he turned to leave.

The lock on the door refused to budge. Marcus rattled it hard but it was stuck fast. He tried ramming the door open with his shoulder before remembering that it swung inwards. He kicked at it in frustration but the door remained firmly closed.

“What the fuck?!”

Plop… The sound came from behind him. Plop… plop.

Marcus turned around slowly to see movement in the bowl. The shit pool bubbled and burst like the hot mud springs he’d seen once before whilst on holiday in New Zealand. He stood there transfixed as more and more bubbles broke through the surface. Plop pop plop…

A slimy brown finger poked up suddenly, followed by another. Marcus flattened himself against the door, staring aghast as a hand emerged from the mess, fingertips feeling out, looking for purchase on the porcelain. A second hand shot up and gripped the edge of the toilet seat, pulling, heaving first a shoulder and then an oozing head up and out of the bowl.

Eyes wide with horror and disbelief, Marcus turned and hammered at the door, frantically grabbing at the lock. “LET ME OUT!”

A horrendous sucking sound caused Marcus to turn around again and he screamed to see the abomination now had a torso, rippling turds for muscles. A fat, pink worm poked out of the head, like an obscene tongue, tasting the air. Reaching out with dripping hands, the detestation gave Marcus a shit-eating grin before emitting a thunderous burp, sending a foul spray of ordure with a stench like an eyeful of needles.

Marcus screamed again and dropped to the filthy, wet floor, squirming in a frenetic attempt to escape from under the door. He kicked out as slimy hands grabbed at his legs and he felt a squelching slap on the back of his thigh. With an almighty heave, he pulled himself free of the gap and out.

Howling in terror, Marcus picked himself up and ran.

*******

Dogma Shit Demon

*Alright! Sheesh… I’m new to this writing lark, Clicky, let alone horror fiction…*

*Well, let’s hope so, eh?*

So, if you’re in need of a book of short stories for toilet reading this Halloween, Dear Reader, I highly recommend you try ‘Underdog Anthology III’ from Leg Iron Books