Faulty Street Light

Nope. Nothin’. The words have dried up again.

In all fairness, I have been putting this off this week by finding other things to do. I just spent about an hour and a half on the website of my local council trying to report a damaged (read “destroyed”) street light right outside my house. It’s been that way for weeks now – ever since a storm called Doris came and exploded the head of the lamp post.

I’d left it up until now, naturally assuming the council people have eyes and ears and brains everywhere; and all-knowing entity capable of monitoring every inch of land every minute of the day, like God or Santa Claus. Like God and Santa Claus, the council’s omnipotence is at least questionable if not altogether non-existent. In light of this (but evidently not in the light of a lamp post), I’d assumed that someone engineer worker might report it while “doing the rounds”, or that another local would take charge.

But instead, it’s fallen to me to navigate the confusing minefield of the faulty street light reporting mechanism of the aforementioned website. After about an hour of trying to submit something, I promptly gave up, Googled an alternative method to report such things and did that instead. I’m not explaining the process well. Like I said, the words have pretty much dried up… mostly.

Much like the headless lamp post of the last four weeks or so, I’m going to have to neglect this one having given very little thought or consideration to it. Then again I did just get a bunch of paragraphs out of what is essentially darkness so it’s not all bad, I suppose.

---

What starts off sounding like monotonous drums that will never end actually turns into something mid-tempo and funky, with the occasional whirring buzz of a floppy disk drive from 1997. It’s very head-noddy-to-able and that’s about all I can really ask for in this word drought I’m stuck in at the moment.

For technical reasons beyond my control, this actually doesn’t appear on YouTube. Well, it does, but in the grainy and pixelated form of camera phone footage of a live performance as viewed from the perspective of a tiny person inside a cave a few hundred metres away. That’s why I’m breaking with tradition and bringing it to you through the magic of Spotify. If you have the access, you should hear this fine… probably. If you should experience any problems with it, please feel free to not ask me, I’m not bloody tech support.

Soulwax – Missing Wires