I know next to nothing about gigs and groups, but the names are fascinating. Thinking up a new and original one must become increasingly difficult. The Forum is sort of permanent summer house on the edge of The Common where gigs take place. This a typical programme or list of forthcoming attractions.It is raining but I still want to get something down in my notebook. I write. I quickly close the book. When I open the book again a strange and intriguing script of smudged mirror-writing appears. I know what I wrote originally but this looks more interesting, esoteric, if only I could decipher it.
The Hadron Collider never ceases to fascinate. I read in the paper to day of ions of lead stripped of their electrons smashing together at almost the speed of light. They generate temperatures, we are told, of "over 10 trillion degrees" a lot hotter than the sun, apparently. There is much here, nearly everything in fact, that I do not understand, and many questions, which I would like put to a passing physicist, but for the time being, in the absence of one, I must simply enjoy the image of a "dense soup of quarks and gluons, known as a quark-gluon plasma."
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A mutual acquaintance whose flights of fancy always exceeded mine managed a group and was required to dream up a name: Mahogany Newt. Not bad but perhaps a little too organic.
The pictures derived from LHC on last-night's news looked like the result of exploding a bomb in a BT junction-box. Only the radial symmetry of the pattern detracted from a confusion of many, many colours similar to the wires used in telephony so coded to help engineers make sense out of their rat's nest. Incidentally I'm glad the word "collider" was retained. It's explicit and clear although I bet there were those who would have preferred something from the Land of Techno-Obscure.
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