Mr. Andrews

A Warning: it’s that time of year where, given the current coordinates of yrs (truly!), you may be exposed to endless nattering about heat exhaust and revelation of podcasts recorded in ice-cubey bathtubs and a relentless boycott of any outergarment. And I hope you will consider this a proper warning because I will, as desperation sets in, become especially doting to those of you in Nordic states, at the poles, or even in climate controlled golf carts (solar-powered of course), I might beg, or quickly become your best friend.

Absent-Mindedness in a Parish Choir

Have waited nearly a year to read Hardy on his birthday, because I strongly suspect that Hardy’s just the sort of guy who should be birthdayishly feted, and in neither in an ironic nor a pointy-paper-hat way. I missed his birthday, as it happens, but not by long… and actually, missing it seems appropriately Hardyish … Read more

The Chaser

I have to tell you about a brilliant little moment that happened today. I was on a train, at an hour in which far too many people take the train, leaving us all sardinically resentful of one another’s smells, oversized totebags, and inter-seasonal viruses. This was, or would have been, evidenced by an isolated high-pitched sneeze from the far end of the car, -except- that from the far side of the other end, someone yelled out a brazen “bless you!”

The Little Woman From Lancashire

In my ongoing efforts to impress upon you my unparalleled prowess at podCASTrophilia, I’ve spent the evening downloading all these applications that allow one to do things like “Normalise” and “Reduce Peak” and “Remove Hiss” and “Shift Frequency,” all of which I, with my many skills, understand perfectly well and can do with ease, while sipping tea with one hand and scratching my head in the other.

Something Special

It’s true, it is, that Miette has bought something special to aid in her PodCASTing, though in the true ghetto style she so cherishes, she (or rather, I, Miette), didn’t do much to prevent the background sounds of discs spinning up, or dogs turning to dervish, or other random technospatter.