the sting of blood droplets forming on the skin

Some bits of the left in BC have unhinged from any sort of reality based political change praxis into a romantic, ABBA song. Sadly many of my pals can't even look at the sports and find pleasure in people moving so quickly. I have had many conversations that seems to equate the Olympics with the current governments spending policies. The current political party has been crap for years, they were never going to help the citizens with or without the Olympics. The point is to replace them.

I first saw her speaking when she was interviewed by Errol Morris in his First Person programme called "Stairway to Heaven". Right at the end of her talk that is on the left, the video, cuts into an ad for the institution which hosted the talk and they expressed almost the opposite idea to what she expressed. They declared, over song, that they are going to cure kids of their diseases, and she spoke about how teachers could deal with difference. Maybe that guy with purple gloves wants to shut down the gadget industry. The introductions to her take too long and those people are terribly boring.

The heartwarming trailer on the right seems to warm hearts, it's obvious that the Doctor would want a moving picture show made of her experiences.

Highway 16 East - Yellowhead Prince Rupert, BC - Elevation: 40 M (131 FT)
Terrace, BC - Elevation: 80 M (262 FT)
Hazelton, BC - Elevation: 305 M (1,001 FT)
Smithers, BC - Elevation: 490 M (1,608 FT)
Prince George, BC - Elevation: 575 M (1,886 FT)

During that last little while I have been writing a little note on Fridays, I am going to skip today. Oh don't fret, here is a balloon and a song.

Walter Meego - Through A Keyhole

Earlier today I found a vortex of excitement about athletes gathering for a competition and display. This gyre threatens to overwhelm the sensitive population of this drenched, GORE-TEX® encrusted land. Brought to you from my twitter feed.

I have been revisiting some of my magazines applying polish, correcting spelling and creating 2nd editions of some of them. Get you first editions soon, before they are replaced and you are looking like a chump at the auction house.

I spoke with Scott from the institution in charge of giving out numbers that are associated to individuals so that their wages can be noted for purposes of paying tax. He said that everything is going to be cool and someone would call or visit me and give me this number that I am seeking, within seven days, if they don't he gave me a new number to call and another number to tell the person who answers that call. This number will tell them all about my desire for the first number. Once I have the first number, I will take it then take this number to shop, where I chatted with Bobbi and trade my time for lucrative employ in one of the spires and towers of this fair city.

Today I tipped my information and cv into many hats as a part of my quest for employment and then began on my 3rd draft of the 7th magazine. There is an article that is giving me some trouble and I am doing all I can to domesticate the trouble into a small, cute and friendly attribute. I got to see a movie sometime during my job shopping and tea drinking and lunch finding. Soon I will post a still from this films end credits, as they are great. Tomorrow I will visit family in Bournemouth, this is exciting as I have yet to meet them. We will be traveling on a big bus that here is called a coach and it will have an internet connection. I will twitter of the novelty of this as I did on the trip to and from Portsmouth.

Gathered my traps and struck out into a rainy day. Down Dog Poo Lane to the tube station to feed currency into a travel card, swapping trains at the station named after another transportation system and to the street named with the always accurate, time based name. I was visiting the top hit for a Google search I did years ago. There was much to look at and like the ocular, somæsthetic vampire I am replenished. Ready for other activities.

Paul Krugman: The Conscience of a Liberal from World Affairs Council: Nor Cal on FORA.tv

The Primitives - Crash on MUZU.TV.

A police report has been released to the general public from the show of military power at Shandi's get together. We are all dismayed that this official document doesn't cite a suspect at the party. Nobody remembers being an umbrella pointer. Vancouver Police Report

16. Hog Infeed Belt

When trees are cleaved in the sawmill, where I laboured, there were two possible destinations for what falls from them, as they change to planks, boards and other handy shapes. If it was free of bark and not specifically dust, a combination of belts that raced under the floors would deliver their scraps to a number of chippers. These chippers uniformly chop the wood waste, surprisingly, into chips, that in turn fill a steel bin large and high enough for a train car or semi-trailer truck to pass under and in turn be filled to then roll off to another dot of industry. These chips find a new day as paper, somewhere.

The remaining bark and specifically dust falls even lower, to a slow moving set of channels with chains running through them, these chains dragged thought their paths with a block that intersected the chain, creating a shovel. Dust and debris dragged along until it was heaved onto the fast moving, rubber Hog Infeed Belt. The tail spool of this belt almost touched the ground, a metre wide strip of rubber, zooming skyward, cutting through 3 floors where it ends and sprays its cargo into the Hog.

The Hog is a simple machine, a cylinder of perforated steel, on its side 6 metres long, 2 metres in diameter, made of 15 cm thick steel, spinning fast enough to turn whatever falls into it, with a roar, into cookie crumbs. This action is shrouded by a steel jacket with an impressive set of motors on each end of the cylinder to make it all happen.

From Works

The Hog Infeed Tail Spool, down below the Hog was currently being hidden by a giant, comical pile of debris, this mess, like the excited, expressive face of a child had a few interrelated parts. A static part, a slowly growing part and a active spraying part. There was some problem with one of the chains feeding this belt and the debris was falling into it off centre, then piling up and then flowing under Hog Infeed Belt and separating it from the Tail Spool which propelled it to its lofty deliver. This injection of debris was causing the fast, wide belt to wobble up and down with far more drama than necessary. Probably causing wear or some other problem that never fill the workers with any concern but torment the managers and the workers who one day wish to be managers.

My job, with others, was to get rid of this pile.

It was 5:00, tired and shovelling, from under the belt, crouched almost into a ball, I could dig and empty the contents of the shovel into a wheelbarrow beside the belt. My friend Jason was driving the wheelbarrow out into the rainy early morning. The shovelling was awkward. Dust was flying into my face. I placed my left leather gloved hand in front of my face while waiting for the wheelbarrow to return. This was a somewhat effective shield to the dust being kicked up by the bottom of the tail-spool and the belts rollers. I shifted my hand away from my face, just a bit, less debris hit it, I moved my arm again reducing my dusting.

In less than a breath, my body was instantly repositioned, where once my shoulders were parallel with the roller, there were now perpendicular, head and trunk twisted, the belt rushing over my head that was now pressed into my right shoulder, hand had touched the roller and that arm was on the other side of the roller, between the belt, the roller was now rotating like a drill under my left armpit, three thoughts, quickly in a row 1. my whole body will have to pass through for me to get out, 2. swearing 3. I have to get out now. Finding footing I pulled and freed the rolled arm. I was told I was screaming, even thought I remember articulating the seriousness of my predicament. Once freed, I sported a shaved left armpit, polished right knuckle, left elbow and tremors.

further

Time lapse video of night sky as it passes over the 2009 Texas Star Party in Fort Davis, Texas. The galactic core of Milky Way is brightly displayed. Images taken with 15mm fisheye lens.

• Adepsine oil
• Albolene
• Cable oil
• Baby Oil
• Drakeol
• Electrical Insulating Oil
• Heat-treating oil
• Hydraulic oil
• Lignite oil
• Liquid paraffin
• Mineral Seal Oil
• Paraffin oil
• Petroleum, liquid
• White oil

Finally, yesterday, the last of my things in Canada have made it to my hands in the UK. A stack of paper, around 3kg, costing a considerable sum to move over the ocean. I am all in one place now. Over the weekend Rachæl and I made a pin-point accurate mission to Ikea and now everything is out of their boxes and off the floor and sitting on friendly sounding storage rigs.

Everyone is in on this terrorism theme these days, even I have head, the remake of V leans heavily on this poorly formed device. I would like a bit more diversity in my narratives as terrorism no longer does what it says on the can and only at best provides disquiet.

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When I put my neighbourhood in YouTube to see if The Clash wrote a song about it, I discovered this gem that begins at my favourite National Rail station. Woo! I can't wait until they are elected and begin the repatriation and every other country in the world returns their Jutes and Saxons. Oh man the forms to fill out!

Is there a psychological disorder where you believe the noise your neighbour is making is simply just a recording of the noise you made 2 days ago?

Is that simple paranoia?

They must live lives very much like ours. I have never seen this couple, on the other side of our wall and can only speculate. I wonder if he has a blog?