andcurve.weblog - The weblog of Kevin Teljeur. Somewhere within all the noise, there is a note you need to hear.

Yeah, I’m too busy with stuff. It’s sort of true. I mean, it’s not untrue, but I’m a terrible time manager, and I’m also easily distracted thanks to the inherent limitations of my walnut-sized, mono-tasking brain, which hasn’t quite evolved to the exacting standards defined by mammalian evolution and can get quickly waylaid by, for example, trying to help some occasionally dubious Romanian girl install a webcam. Actually, if you managed to make your way through the convolutions of that opening sentence you’ll probably come to the conclusion that I need very much to write, and you would be right. About that. I do. Need to write. More.
Something more to write about: Celebrating the return of Tee of LTD fame with Lids, Dee, Kenny, Tee, myself and some sleeping people. And a ridiculous amount of drink. Face licking did in fact happen, much to everyone’s embarrassment. 6th October 2006. Click image to view larger version
There’s a big post on the way about Romania, of course, and about my new camera, and how both relate to each other – a juxtaposing of technology, purpose, result and criminal icompetence – in The Great Hard Drive Failure Which Resulted In The Loss Of My Photos story. It’s not a great story, it’s not even a good story, but I’ve been telling everytone anyway, because I broadcast practically every thought that crosses my mind, and a lot of those thoughts are about whatever happened to me last.
My mother attempting to hide from the all-seeing camera. I drove the car, too, which as we now know wasn’t as big a drama as I thought it would be. Almost. 7th October 2006. Click image to view larger version
I’m getting the hang of driving in what is for all intents and purposes (and certainly legally) my car, a Mazda 121 five door, previously owned by my mother. The whole car thing is very stressful for me, though oddly enough it’s not the driving that bothers me, it’s owning a car part of the deal. Still, driving is fun, and with it I can realise my dream of visiting Borris on Ossory quite soon.

There’s a few other nuggets too, and time will tell if I’ll get to write about them.

Hm. I said it was dead, didn’t I? The Kaoss Pad Mod story. In fact, I went so far as to say something like: “www.make-phil-and-his-fucking-contraption-history.com”. Well, I was wrong to do that, partly because it was a negative and abusive thing to say (Particularly of someone who hides from society, seeking solace in vandalising his musical equipment; the guy needs a therapist. Or a slap.), but mostly because not long after posting that story, I found that someone close to where I live is using the Kaoss Pad Mod in a very interesting and creative way.

One Jack Freeney, Painter and Decorator, has installed the Kaoss Pad on the front gate of his house over on Roselawn Road, whch I pass every day to and from the train station. And what a gate it is too. Granted, even mobility-impaired dwarves (And there are more than ever now, since the EU started handing out grants for them.) could hop over it, and it’s probably there to discourage people from getting to close to the house and being disorientated by all the tasteless ‘decoration’ on and in the house, but it has a set of controls just outside of it that would put a Boeing 747 cockpit to shame. I can only assume that he’s an extremely busy man or has attention deficit disorder or perhaps even is just remarkably thick, and that is why it takes so much hardware to get him to temporarily stop transforming his house into a grotesque, gold-veneered plasterwork nightmare and come out to open the door. Including having installed the Kaoss Pad beside everything else; presumably if he’s being particularly intransigent, or perhaps working on an entirely turgid and completely unoriginal home decoration concept, then you can lure him out by playing tunes on the keypad and use the Kaoss Pad to fuck with his sense of reality. Or maybe, as a light relief from his efforts, he comes out some evenings as the light is fading and gently plays a few tunes which he thought up that afternoon, poetic ruminations of the nature of silicone sealant, gently touching the keys and stroking with the lightest of passes, the Kaoss Pad. In reality I have no idea what goes on in the mind of Jack Freeney, Painter and Decorator.

I got as far as playing two thirds of the guitar noodling sequence from ‘I am The Resurrection’ on it the other night before he came out to shout at me for using the wrong chords. I was disappointed, but also secretly pleased in a way. He’s my hero.

The old coot.