Far far away, near and as close as your nasal fluff, all across the world and in this case Fife, wind farms are standing stock still, looking up at the moon, wondering what their place and purpose in the universe might be and what kind of muscular exercise regime might suit them best. Then it became clear, in a flash, in an instant. There is a tunnel at the end of the light. DO NOTHING.
These are just fleeting thoughts from the heartland of the UK's colonial dustbin somewhere beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down. As ever AI and old age are to blame. I'll just leave it there ...
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Transcendental mediocrity
Far far away, near and as close as your nasal fluff, all across the world and in this case Fife, wind farms are standing stock still, looking up at the moon, wondering what their place and purpose in the universe might be and what kind of muscular exercise regime might suit them best. Then it became clear, in a flash, in an instant. There is a tunnel at the end of the light. DO NOTHING.
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