I spent all morning drawing diagrams for Secret Plan 161.
It’s an electronic █████ capable of █████ ██ completely ██████ █████ to █████ ████ ███ ████ toward it. I’ve never seen one, and I think it’d be super-useful in museums and ballparks.
It could also be used for evil.
I’m having a very hard time finding the parts I need to build it, because the ████ █████ ██████ are buying them all, and they have a lot more money than I do.
Part of the reason for my busy morning is that I’ve got an appointment with someone downtown today to discuss this particular device.
The gentleman is super-smart, our conversation is fun, and now I’ve got a lot to think about.
In the evening, I meet up with two old acrobat buddies, Graham and Erick, at The Ramp. It’s a good place to have a drink and blow a few hours talking about everything and nothing. It’s in a section of town with excellent machines everywhere.
While I’m walking along he water, a man paddles up in a kayak. He pulls up to the shoreline, and then reaches into his boat, pulls out a brick, and throws it onto the shore. Then another. Then a whole bunch more. It’s more bricks than most people put in their kayaks for sure.
I’ve seen people into some tweaked stuff, but this is a new one for me. So I ask. He says, “Hundred year old bricks that fell into the bay in the earthquake. There’s nothing quite like them.” Okay um, cool.
Random assertion: Your best inventions will, someday, be used for evil and harm. Deal with it.
Steganographic data: 1860/3.8