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Re: complexified tricyclic vortices

Date: Sep. 6th, 2005 04:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fflo.livejournal.com
I hope they don't get unorthodoxly zapped by an gigabit of unknotting piezoelectricity, detuning them into a superquintessence of dispersionless epimorphisms.
From: [identity profile] altamont.livejournal.com
Had a pseudosuperpartner once; now she never writes...

I hope they don't get unorthodoxly zapped by an gigabit of unknotting piezoelectricity, detuning them into a superquintessence of dispersionless epimorphisms.

Yikes, maybe _that's_ why me wee nipples got hard all of a sudden. I've already had my remarkable coincidence of the day* at work, so imagine coming home and running smack into an apparent reference to my favorite Unified Field Conspiracy Theory, the venerable Montauk Project.

*Casual conversation with an out-of-state customer at the (big, used) bookshop revealed that we share the same pretty damn obscure historical obsession, the 19thC whaler that eventually became the Hotel Niantic in SF. Turns out that's he working on a book, has 100+ pages of research that he's going to send me, and he's throwing in an original square nail from the hull excavation he worked on back in 1978. Even by the higher than normal standard of weird coincidences that pops up in (big, used, wonderful) bookshops, this is the ha'penny in the pudding. I spotted.
From: [identity profile] fflo.livejournal.com
My --- a hint at your secret identity. Book barn; Connecticut. Verrry interesting.

I went to a book barn in PA once. Somewhere westsouthwest of Philly. Maybe Swarthmore territory---dunno. Got a cool book I haven't seen in a while; wonder if I gave it away.

That Montauk stuff . . . that's some stuff, alright. And the buried ships stuff---now THAT's some stuff.

Years ago I swear there was an episode of "Kolchak: The Night Stalker," or of some show I've colluded with it in my mind, in which our hero goes into the old, under-the-streets city that supposedly actually exists in some major U.S. city, and I had a vague recollection it was Seattle. There's some spooky dead/undead thing down there or something & Kolchak must investigate---I dunno. But I was fascinated by that old city underneath the new city. With the advent of The Internet, I've been able to read through all the plot summaries of that series, and there was no recognizable sign of it, but then a little googling revealed that there is an old Seattle underground.

I'm sure the tour sucks, but maybe I could sneak away from the group or something.

Of course, btw, I have no idea what I'm referring to in my custom dictionary, a good 3/4 of the time.
From: [identity profile] altamont.livejournal.com
My --- a hint at your secret identity. Book barn; Connecticut. Verrry interesting.

All just a desperate attempt to intrigue, yes. Thanks for tolerating my ecdysiast tendencies, at least for the moment; after two drinks it usually turns into a rude show of me trying to decide whether to post the Friendster or Myspace link. (*Hic* "I don't do this very often.." *Hic*) An artfully dropped reference to Nabokov's "Pale Fire," and an all-too-casual plug for my radio show. Then the 78rpm copy of Bird's Koko/How High the Moon. Slides of my last vacation threaten to follow. The shotput medal I won when I was 11. Bits of seaglass. Hilarity ensues.

I'm sure the tour sucks, but maybe I could sneak away from the group or something.

Subbacultcha, indeed.

Of course, btw, I have no idea what I'm referring to in my custom dictionary, a good 3/4 of the time.

A few semesters of post-multivariable math means I still remember how cool Group/Ring theory was, but couldn't explain the Prime Number Theorem to save my life. I'm still enough of a stargazer to drool over really big twin primes and the like. At least I don't bring up the string-of-9s-in pi thing (Infinite. Nonrepeating. Duh.). Mainly I enjoy struggling to keep up with people who actually know what they're talking about and the fun terminology. (*Smacks gum*) It's refined, like.
From: [identity profile] fflo.livejournal.com
The subject-line length limit edited off a final -s there, and I rather like its editorial input, now that I think about it.

I had to look up "ecdysiast." Have you lost all respect for me?

Work calls; I shall check out those links, opened in other tabs, later.
From: [identity profile] altamont.livejournal.com
I had to look up "ecdysiast." Have you lost all respect for me?

Not hardly, yo. Irreduceable modality of the visible leads to irredeemable vulgarity of the risible.

Any more big words and I'll have to increase my ramping time tonight. Thus ends my catechism.
From: [identity profile] fflo.livejournal.com
Hey, you know what? I hardly ever ramp any more. Just dive right in.

I'm hardcore.
From: [identity profile] altamont.livejournal.com
Hey, you know what? I hardly ever ramp any more. Just dive right in.


Duuuuuuude! I am -- nonironically -- in awe. I run full out at 17 over 30m and I still get the headpops on the way into the pipeline. You must have eustachian tubes of iron!

Excuse the idiot tagline, but: I am not worthy.
From: [identity profile] fflo.livejournal.com
I think my air pressure is wimpy nexta yours. The number 11 sticks in mind. Seems likely my tubes are just not as challenging/challenged as yours.
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