This BIG vice was found rusting away at Aber-Gwen Woollen Mill in 1978, and it’s been a useful part of the growing ‘family’ of friends ever since.

BUT >
If for one moment we consider superstring theory to be so crazy that it might hold some possibilities, then for that (brief?) moment, everything in the known physical multiverse is related to everything. That vice is as much one of my cousins as you are, Cousin!

I have always felt ‘at one’ with everything and maybe, vice versa. But some things like this chunky iron vice have a quality to them that I personally understand. Whereas, with the ever complex technologies today, they need large teams to understand them and no individual can thoroughly troubleshoot.

Such extremes of technology no longer conjoin easily. I am comfortable with the cold chunky iron vice and it’s very real. The Herculean work of particle splitters and space explorers is more flaky in my mind because it updates so rapidly and spawns so many differing opinions.

If all goes according to plan (or fate) , all those that think about the ‘theory of everything’ will form a theocracy (or is it ‘Theo-crazy’) made up of theologians, theo-logins and theo-rists, whilst I put the kettle on at the HoBB and make some actual tea.

Though ‘ideas’ are sweet to speculate upon, practical outcomes are sweeter.

Solid waves of action ~~~~~~~ <+))))))))>< ~~~ Grant

I had a thought that the crude oil underground may be providing lubrication as the Earth’s Plates move across eachother and that if we extract it all then there will be more friction, greater earthquakes thus more disturbance of the earth’s crust and more volcanos.

I followed up the thought by assuming that the gaps left when we extract crude oil, and natural gas in liquid form, must fill up with water which, though not as good at lubricating, will smooth the plate jolts a bit.

I then cast my thoughts ahead to the time when the gaps ‘below’ were so large after our extractions, that all of the water that had previously been fun to see on the surface, responded to gravity and simply vanished down like any self-respecting liquid.

I looked at the dryness and felt ill. Ill because I contributed to it by ‘being’ a consumer of the ground beneath me – the very foundations that supported my ancestors.

I then did a Google search to locate my nearest ‘New Noah’ spacecraft to take me away from the lack of water but because I had been an accessory to the crime of home planet misuse, a default message page came up, written by the big webmaster, telling me that ticket sales to planet wreckers were forbidden.

As I put my kettle on the dry dust, still no tears appeared. Like all good space travellers, I started to carve a flashy plaque to tell those that followed me that “it was cool whilst it lasted but it failed”.

I think I died without ever knowing anything of any real importance.

At the moment, I’m in limbo. My seed is just dormant – it needs just a touch of ‘precious water’ to start it growing all over again.

If you are reading this, waves or even rain would be OK … just a little, please? ~~~~~~~~~ <+))))))))>< ~~~ Grant