Sitting coach class on packed Friday evening train out of London. Belov'd thespian Simon Callow comes squeezing down the aisle, bemoaning the lack of seats. I cheerfully suggest "First class next time, Simon". He fixes me with a gimlet stare and booms: "Next time it'll be a FUCKING HELICOPTER".

"... get to the ROUTE of people's concerns.."!? Jesus. Couldn't they have got Co-Pilot to write it?

I think you'll see why... ;-)

It would seem -alas - not enough to warrant a second chapter.

I think at the time it seemed important to keep my part of the bargain, to support as far as possible the suspension of disbelief by not introducing glaring historical inaccuracies. And I like airports.

For the purposes of a first chapter, I once needed to get my father from Manchester to Stuttgart in October 1977. I used Google to find a historically accurate way to do it. He could have teleported, but I wanted him on a plane. He was a travel agent by trade.

Are these Spinal Tap lyrics?

Until either one of them opens their mouths, one fears.

youtube.com/watch?v=Em3X...

In TM, thoughts aren't suppressed - they're ever present, always bubbling to the surface. It's a phenomenon you accept. The mantra gives the brain a path to follow, something to latch on to. The idea being, that it will naturally follow this pleasing route and lead to deeper levels of consciousness.

Does this mean the goal of meditation is to become, however briefly an NPC in one's own life? Well, in a way perhaps, it is.

Perhaps modern SF writers are just rediscovering the joy of Euripides' Deus ex Machina for the post-truth age?

Hope this translates to Suffolk, too. Off there soon, too feel the occulted vibes of Orford Ness and say hello to the Little Greys of Rendlesham Forest. Nanu Nanu! \\///

I'd always assumed Blobby was a homunculus instantiated in the deep nigredo of Noel's overenthusiastic shadow work.

Glæd ī §wúrvd thæt wûn

"... Groknet begins to learn at a geometric rate. It becomes self-aware at 2:14 a.m. Eastern time, August 29th. In a panic, they try to pull the plug..."

Very probably true. Bit depressing to think that ultimately our demise as a species won't be due to the elemental power we harnessed and unleashed, but because it doesn't really matter how many r's are in strawberry?