My email address: snailrind at pobblesquattle dot freeserve dot co dot uk

My 42-isms, courtesy of SEF:

(2+3)x4 + 7 + 3x5 = 42

(5+1)x6 + 7 - 6/6 = 42

Some bees in my bonnet:

Evangelism, superstition and coercive marketing.

Environmental policies are based on misconceptions about evolution.

Welsh taxi drivers never shut their windows, even in the dead of night, in the thickest blizzards.

Some things I like:

Animals and wildernesses.

Books and writing.

Philosophy and science.

The Incredible Stringband.

Poetry.

Surrealism.

People who speak their minds.

The drop-down list contains old lurking-spots. I almost never update it.

Cool Guide Entry

I'm a sufferer of Chronic Fatigue Sydrome, otherwise known as Myalgic Encephalomyelitis.

Snailrind's Bits of Treasure

"Adjectives are whores." (E. Ingram)

"Beneath the moon's marmorial snout." (M. Peake)

Butharlyp Howe.

Degrees of freedom.

"Great Gromboolian Plain." (E. Lear)

"I can smell aardvarks in the twilight." (Gothly)

"I'm happy as a sandbag." (N. France)

'Ontology--the Hermeneutics of Facticity.' (M. Heidegger)

Snowball sampling.

*

Outside, a rusticated, vermiform

ebullience; outside, a cluttering

of pediments, pilasters, pargeting,

embroidery; outside, the balconies

expand in their baroque epiphanies,

their splendid Biedermeyer uniforms;

outside, the casement windows under rolls

of stonework, rough or smooth or both; facades

with manners courtly as old playing cards;

outside, the straining figures stiffly bent

to hold up yet another pediment

disfigured by a web of bullet-holes;

outside, the falling masonry, the hard

emphatic counter-patterns of collapse,

the shattered panes and almost hingeless flaps

that bang like toy guns to disturb the dust.

Inside, the iron-work, the lines of rust;

inside, the piles of rubble in the yard.

(G. Szirtes.)

*

Reference List: Words I Always Forget

Societies