They Do It With Ink, Of Course

In a rare fit of old-timey worldliness, this post is being written in the middle of nowhere with the old fashioned and infinitely useful pen and paper. That's right, pigment on processed wood pulp! You can't beat the classics. As always, it's much more meditative out there in the wilds, with nothing but a cylinder of ink and a bicycle to protect you from the beasts and monsters of the wild. It's a nice small interlude of calm in an otherwise frantic few hours.

I wonder how they make ink in the twenty-first century? We have more colours now than they used to have. Are they breeding special squid, I wonder facetiously? Or would they be like those multi-coloured pens, where you pull down a switch for each colour. Hence, tentacle number one for black, number two for red, and so on? It's a thought.

The review of 'Flywheel, Shyster and Flywheel' will be coming very soon, gentle readers of the Quirky Muffin. It's just a question of working out how to write about a book of radio scripts for a long-lost radio show from the 1930s, which is rendered even more complicated by the voices of Chico and Groucho Marx that permeate every line! They're trapped in the pages, and sometimes you wonder if Harpo isn't in there too, and Zeppo, propping things up and filling in bit parts... However, this should all be saved for the actual post!

It's nice out here, in the middle of the country, writing on a small bridge over the bicycle trail. If it weren't for the occasional cyclist it would be ideal. You get to ponder silly thoughts, examine silly ideas, and wonder how things got to be the way they are. How will it all end up? Who will win the Golden Waffle Iron of fate at the end of the political cycle? Will we stop the world burning up and ending this ice age prematurely? How will the unending Trump debacle end, and what bizarre shenanigans will his own side pull next to stop Corbyn getting anywhere? Why is string pale brown? Do sheep actually act sheepish? Do aliens watch our news like their own version of trashy reality television? Why can't people be silly anymore?

It's a strange place to live, isn't it? I guess it's time to go back to civilization.

O.