Music

Gentles,

I decided to play Happy With What You Have To Be Happy With, the King Crimson teaser EP released about a month ago in anticipation of the new album (see last entry).

The decending chord sequence on Larks' Tongues in Aspic IV is almost orgasmic.

I shall have it looped and played at my funeral.

By God, it's good. That album just has to turn up soon....

Music

Gentles,

I decided to play Happy With What You Have To Be Happy With, the King Crimson teaser EP released about a month ago in anticipation of the new album (see last entry).

The decending chord sequence on Larks' Tongues in Aspic IV is almost orgasmic.

I shall have it looped and played at my funeral.

By God, it's good. That album just has to turn up soon....

Of Superglue and flasks

Sometimes one really ought to read the auguries before setting out on a chore that seemed like a good idea at the time.

The trusty flask needed a good wash and boil before the next batch of brew was added.

A simple task you would think. But no.

You see, said implement is stainless steel and guaranteed unbreakable. And so it is. Almost.

The cap of the flask - the bit that doubles as a cup is stainless steel with a plastic lining. And I discovered that sluicing off odd bio-mass (erstwhile soup) with scalding hot water has an unfortunate side effect. The bits may be indestructible, but the glue that holds them together is not. In fact in the face of extremely hot water, it reverts to gloop and after a short time there is a rather splendid popping sound as the steel exterior expels the plastic lining.

This is, I feel, somewhat of a drawback in a flask which is ostensibly intended to keep liquids hot (or indeed, cold).

However, it takes more than a minor mishap such as that to deter our intrepid hero. Oh, yes.

One thorough drying-off later, the two parts of the cup-cum-lid were placed on the table for closer inspection. Poor glue, thinks I. I can do better. Super glue. It sticks anything to anything and never lets go.

And it's true.

Unfortunately, it is also true that it sticks things to themselves with equal alacrity. Especially if applied in liberal amounts.

Suffice it to say that the flask is fixed. Fixed to the table.

There was an interesting chemical reaction with my towel, too. I'm not sure what material the towel is made from, but it reacts badly to superglue, even superglue you thought had dried. Ammonia smoke in the kitchen is unpleasant. Especially when it makes your eyes water and as you step back momentarily blinded, a hand - let's say for the sake of argument, the left one, finds itself in a pool of spilt superglue.

By God that stuff dries quickly.

Saving oneself from joining the flask as a new table fixture was easy. Getting to the tap to wash the glue off before it sets isn't.

Suffice it to say that my left hand is now like a white crinkley claw covered as it is with dry superglue. I can do a fine Jade Monkey impression, such are the glue-created scales on my fingers and palm.

On the upside, the hand is just the right shape for typing, so in addition to this epistle I have rattled off a goodly portion of my first NWO sheet for a while.

And in those moments when thought is more important than typing, well, those glueyskin nodules are fine chewing, yes sirree, Bob.

It all seems to be loosening again, now and becoming more pliable. But there is a splendidly gravely bit on the heel of my palm that is just the right texture to strike a match on.

I am so tempted to try it.

How clumsy can a person be in one night?

Ah. That clumsy. Ouch.

Stupid bugger.

Of Superglue and flasks

Sometimes one really ought to read the auguries before setting out on a chore that seemed like a good idea at the time.

The trusty flask needed a good wash and boil before the next batch of brew was added.

A simple task you would think. But no.

You see, said implement is stainless steel and guaranteed unbreakable. And so it is. Almost.

The cap of the flask - the bit that doubles as a cup is stainless steel with a plastic lining. And I discovered that sluicing off odd bio-mass (erstwhile soup) with scalding hot water has an unfortunate side effect. The bits may be indestructible, but the glue that holds them together is not. In fact in the face of extremely hot water, it reverts to gloop and after a short time there is a rather splendid popping sound as the steel exterior expels the plastic lining.

This is, I feel, somewhat of a drawback in a flask which is ostensibly intended to keep liquids hot (or indeed, cold).

However, it takes more than a minor mishap such as that to deter our intrepid hero. Oh, yes.

One thorough drying-off later, the two parts of the cup-cum-lid were placed on the table for closer inspection. Poor glue, thinks I. I can do better. Super glue. It sticks anything to anything and never lets go.

And it's true.

Unfortunately, it is also true that it sticks things to themselves with equal alacrity. Especially if applied in liberal amounts.

Suffice it to say that the flask is fixed. Fixed to the table.

There was an interesting chemical reaction with my towel, too. I'm not sure what material the towel is made from, but it reacts badly to superglue, even superglue you thought had dried. Ammonia smoke in the kitchen is unpleasant. Especially when it makes your eyes water and as you step back momentarily blinded, a hand - let's say for the sake of argument, the left one, finds itself in a pool of spilt superglue.

By God that stuff dries quickly.

Saving oneself from joining the flask as a new table fixture was easy. Getting to the tap to wash the glue off before it sets isn't.

Suffice it to say that my left hand is now like a white crinkley claw covered as it is with dry superglue. I can do a fine Jade Monkey impression, such are the glue-created scales on my fingers and palm.

On the upside, the hand is just the right shape for typing, so in addition to this epistle I have rattled off a goodly portion of my first NWO sheet for a while.

And in those moments when thought is more important than typing, well, those glueyskin nodules are fine chewing, yes sirree, Bob.

It all seems to be loosening again, now and becoming more pliable. But there is a splendidly gravely bit on the heel of my palm that is just the right texture to strike a match on.

I am so tempted to try it.

How clumsy can a person be in one night?

Ah. That clumsy. Ouch.

Stupid bugger.