The Continuing Bullshit Of Offline

So the repair shop says “call back in 48 hours while we work our last-ditch effort.” So I call back today, 48 hours later. The repair shops says “um…the boss is out. Call back tomorrow?”
Annoying. But I don’t care, because I have just uncovered my long-lost copy of ODIN by Julian Cope. ODIN is “a simultaneously-synthesized parallel-harmonic Breathing Meditation of 73 minutes and 45 seconds’ duration.” Released on Head Heritage in 2000, it’s one of the most inspirational pieces of music in my collection. (And one day I’ll bore everyone to tears with my specific reason for keeping a CD collection.) Head Heritage ( – google it) may still have copies, but check Amazon, your local one and, for it if they don’t. It’s one massive circular-breathing vocal mantra with Mellotron and other electronically-imported atmospherics, labeled as a “meditation on Silbury and Waden Hill” — a consideration and evocation of the dramas and mysteries of the ancient English landscape. It’s one of those things I can get absolutely lost in, and emerge from with my thinking retuned.
Sent by email from Nokia 810, of course.

The Offline Strikes Back

Haven´t even heard from the computer shop today. I suspect my computer lays in a shallow grave in their back garden, like a dead rabbit. This serves only as a reminder to all that I remain offline and desktopless, and am posting this via email from a phone.

I am also rather concerned about the sudden urge, half an hour ago, to alphabetise my cd collection. If I don’t get my computer back soon, I will clearly be found constructing rows of tiny houses out of toenail clippings, earwax and scrote-hair in the very near future.

I just thought of names for the houses. I must go now.