The Day I Became Poseidon

It was "one of those days".

You know those days; when the four elements swing against your favour at every turn. It seems as though  the gods of past and present, from Anubis to Mars, from Buddha to L. Ron. Hubbard, have devised a chain of self perpetuating events determined to make you stub your toe and stuff.  The world is against you and its plans to ruin your day consist purely of incrementally worsening incidents of annoyance until the final straw breaks. There is always a broken final straw.

On this day the chain of events culminated in the washing machine stopping mid-cycle. I didn't notice and opened the door only to be greeted by a miniature tidal wave of inky water. I instinctively shut the door, but could not open it again. The machine was broken with my clothes still inside it. It held them prisoner in a glass cage (or plastic, whatever). I decided to restart the cycle to see if it would free them. It did not. On the third attempt (around 1 AM) I decided that I would open the floodgates with a ten litre bucket under the door to catch the water. I soon discovered that the washing machine held considerably more than ten litres of water.

"Shit."

As the bucket filled I tried to empty it into the sink as quickly as possible so I could get it back under the door. The speed with which the water hit the sink made it erupt upwards like a volcano, and only slightly less infernal. There comes a point during days like these that you must make a decision. You will inevitably end up either exploding with rage hitting everything in sight like a confused Pokemon, or taking it all in stride and laughing. On this occasion I laughed maniacally like a rapper (namely Mike Jones)  introducing his latest track as I threw half boiling water around the kitchen.

The clothes were also hovering around fifty degrees Celsius. They were also still in need of a rinse out that could compete with the entire collection of 90's Drum and Bass. I figured it'd be best to do this in the bath, but because of the way it was built I couldn't reach the taps without actually getting in the bath with the clothes. This meant that I had to rinse them out naked under the running tap like a time travelling troglodyte.

Getting to bed felt like drinking a crisp pint of cider after a trek through the desert.

Orchestragasm Part 1

I hate portmanteaus, and I hate myself for titling this post with one, but it is done.

Today I'm discussing performances with a twist. They each have something out of the ordinary about them that adds to the visual and audio experience, making the whole thing bloody amazing.

Firstly a concert performed by Metallica and the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra in 1999. Watch out for Michael Kamen; the conductor who works with some very unorthodox tools. Instead of using the usual batons, he uses his middle fingers, mindfully telling his orchestra to buggar off  as he guides them through the piece. This can be seen in the background at around 1:35, and in full clarity at 3:49.

Well fuck you too Mr. Kamen

Next we have a performance of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture by various bands from the Japanese army with the 1st Artillery Brigade who use 105 mm cannons as an instrument. The piece is typically performed with cannons but these go the extra mile... pun intended. According to Wikipedia this regiment does not even use 105mm cannons when deployed for combat which means one of two things. Either that they definitely do use them for combat; or, that on this occasion Wikipedia is actually correct and the 1st Artillery Brigade has specific cannons that they only use to play music. Badass.  If you're in a rush skip to ten minutes in for the explosive climax. Don't forget to turn the volume down, or up, depending on your desire to hear anything ever again.

I'll be back.

"Taquila Sunrise" part deux

No, I didn't spell tequila wrong... not by mistake anyway

It is currently 4:14 AM and I meant to go to sleep around five hours ago. Instead I started working on this. Figuring out which names would work until the most obvious thing in the world came to mind. I have quite a rare surname and can pretty much use it for any on-line purpose without it already being taken... Unless I have already taken it myself.

It turns out that in 2005 I had started a blog with the title "taquila sunrise". I have no idea if I'd meant to misspell tequila at the time, but I did; and now it just sits there, with no posts, occupying magic invisible internet space. There are many sites like it, so I decided that this one would not become one of them. So as the hours went by and the sounds of Canterbury wildlife (seagulls, and a student throwing up outside my building) occupied the background of my mind I found myself a seemingly adequate name and domain.

And then the door bell rung. Twice.

"Can I ask you for a favour mate?" I heard over the intercom. "What is it?" I replied. He wanted a glass of water. I figured that if he was dehydrated enough to ring on a random doorbell and bang on the door for five minutes he needed it. I got a glass and went down and gave it to him. He thanked me, downed it in one and asked if he could roll a joint in the stairwell. I let him in but he didn't have any tobacco and neither did I; and this being England, that joint wasn't getting rolled without some bacci. So he made to leave and I started walking upstairs when with audible urgency he suddenly said "HANG ON". Enough, I'm done, it's time for this guy to go home I thought.

"You aren't gay are you mate?"

Charming.

"No, why do you ask that?" I replied; he said "oh just checking" and left. Now, gay or not, it doesn't matter. The odd thing is that even though he had asked for help he was so surprised that it was given to him that he thought there may have been an ulterior motive. This is entirely fucked. Especially coming form a guy who, instead of wearing his hat, had decided to balance it on his head in a manner that pushed the laws of physics to their limits.

So that little encounter went slap, bang into the middle of the construction of this blog, and therefore into it's first post. But what of the future? Well, somewhat unlike this post the future posts of this blog will be a sequence of armour piercing bullets of fun and knowledge aimed directly at your cerebrum. It will include books that you should read (and why) and music that you can do whatever you like with. Burn it all to a CD and then set that on fire if you like. It'll also include some discussions on science, history, current events and may be written under the influence of political rage and alcohol.