CW&T Pen Type-C
Newest writing implement/obsession, CW&T’s beautiful Pen Type-C, arrived today; ordered it after a(nother) particularly enraging pencil + bookmark vanishing act. Nice weight, writes well, does the job – and manages to be a work of art at the same time.
mon/20211122
On this, another cold and frosty et al and, in the midst of the standard post-Sunday-visit hangover minus inebriative prior fun/regret, my desire to meet an owner of a Chucky Cheese who will let me bring Kirby in to play in the ball pit has grown exponentially: this is my dream(state), now.
I think I finished re/emergence0005 but I'm not sure (welcome, Tyler, to the finalization stage; flow was wonderful, wasn’t it?). A period of printing and reading aloud will thus ensue. Still more or less sure that I remain on target to send it off to EJK by Thanksgiving; this one's been percolating for awhile now. Good feeling to relieve the pressure (cooker).
My blood has triggered another alarm. The day awaits.
links/20211121
Attempted breach of Ohio county election network draws FBI and state scrutiny (via The Washington Post).
FBI searches for Jimmy Hoffa’s body in New Jersey landfill after deathbed tip (via The Guardian).
Cryptid Fan Hopes Her Museum Brings Attention to a Forgotten Cryptid (via The Daily Yonder).
The one that got away: Cleveland bank heist mystery solved after 52 years (via The Guardian).
Always fun to have a great friend pop up in the RSS feed: Carol Tilley on the Cool Tools podcast (via Cool Tools).
Halo Infinite’s long, messy fight to save the series (via Polygon).
sun/20211121
Turned off my CGM alarms except for the urgent low and slept well.
Mostly recovered from yesterday's comedy of errors in which every effort at pod-fixing (cable worked until it didn't, further testing require) and in-lawn leafing went to hell and culminated in a blood sugar crash as I failed to fix the third tire for the third time (gun-toting, orange-clad Amish lads helped the first time – I need one of those one-inch toothy straps) and I hurled a chair across the yard and shattered it, the chair, not the yard – though I'd like to do that because fuck that place and fuck that yard and fuck each and every one of those fucking leaves.
Fears that this word-morning would continue in the vein of the last century of word-mornings and be further reflective of the aforementioned leafblower tire clusterfuck proved unfounded: broke through the Friction and entered an approximation of Flow. While I know what it's about, I also have no clue what it's about nor do I particularly care: that something exists is validation enough.
(Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream, indeed, Mr Lennon – no LSD required, at least not this time.)
P.S.: Updated the NO TIME TO DIE input post with mini-review.
