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

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.

A big, very happy twenty-fourth birthday shout out to Aideen (did I spell that right?) who turned twenty-four on Saturday. Aideen is very clever, articulate, can do hand-writing analysis, and can figure out her position in the Zaytoon kebab queue like few other people I’ve randomly come across on a night out. Sadly, although she does read books and has a remarkable grasp of the mechanics of rain creation (What’s that ‘p’ word again?), she doesn’t know much about cloud structures.

I actually can’t remember from where I learnt about cloud types; I know we still have the book, and I would have been about ten or so, but… Ah well. Also, it’s amazing how much you can deduce from people through a few brief moments of contact. I really do need to get out more.

Altostratus. They just don’t make them like they used to.