This one's for Hugh..

The world of the internet as a dangerous place, and journeying therein is not to be done irresponsibly. I myself have been using the internet for many seasons, and have yet venture too deep into the unknown. This is because I know my limits. I may be a man of almost incomparable height, but when it comes to exploring online, there is no braver man than Mr. Hugh Lashbrooke.

It all started back in 1985. Hugh was born and immediately his parents knew that he would be intrepid. As a child, Hugh lived dangerously, seeking out places none of his friends would dare to tread. A sign saying, "Danger: High Voltage Power Lines" was like a welcome mat to this boy. And in that exact story is where Hugh's life changed. As his parents rushed him to the hospital in their VW Jetta, Hugh bleeding from his right ear and whimpering unconsciously, they could see that his life would never be the same.

And so, after a month in intensive care, and another in psychotherapy, Hugh returned to the playground where his friends were eagerly waiting to hear how he escaped the clutches of death. An anonymous source claims that he clearly remembers seeing faint sparks coursing through Hugh's hair whenever he spoke. Some of his friends still claim this happens currently.

During his high-school career, a privately owned power generation & utilization company took interest and had a meeting with Hugh, where they allegedly performed several experiments on him. Being a teenager at the time, Hugh was incredibly unstable, and the reports in the newspapers said nothing more than a sparkplug and a badly burned office chair was left after the explosion. Fortunately Hugh managed to escape the public's eye by flying under the radar.

Since leaving school, his 'condition' has lessened and he has learned to control his actions almost entirely. Instead it seems as though he is funneling his skills into more apt avenues. Recent studies have shown that without Hugh Lashbrooke, the internet as we know it today would be 78% slower and far more unreliable. I was fortunate enough to witness Hugh 'logging-in' one sunny Sunday afternoon. After a short while I asked him how he was feeling. His response? Cached.

It is difficult to call yourself and explorer slash adventurer in this day and age, because we have found everywhere (it was hiding just behind Greenland). But in the infinite stretches of the internet, Hugh Lashbrooke makes his discoveries. Travelling like electrons along a fibre-optic cable, he plunders and destroys, creates and defines, and reveals all that he feels is necessary. And you will never see him.

Ladies and gentlemen I hereby introduce my friend, Hugh Lashbrooke: Web ninja..

www.hughlashbrooke.com

Toodle-pip,

andrewiconkerr

I Knew You'd Say That..

There are certain things in this world that are just not cricket. Rugby for example.

Now that that joke is out of the way, I want to talk about psychics.

I think that psychics get a pretty bad rep in general. I also happen to think that they deserve it. Let's face facts. It's a con. Crystals, smoke and funny cards don't give you any insight into the passing of a long, lost relative. It may help your sinuses, but it's easier just to take a Panado. That's right. I've just compared psychics as a collective group around the world to a single Panado... and the Panado won.

What is even sadder is the actual people who go to psychics in order to reach the other side. (Just ask a chicken for Pete's sake. Poor Pete..) Now, one might argue that these people have no options left. Their town may be in a bit of a Panado depression, and they thought if they needed another solution, may as well make it a nice day out. I'd love to believe this, but then I'd also love to believe that the Gravy Train is actually a train full, and made out, of gravy. Man that would be cool. And scientifically interesting. But people do really spend money on other people in a bandanna, adorned in rings and bracelets, and generally smelling of mysticism, to connect them with people who really don't want to be connected with. Rule 1 of any scary movie ever: They're dead. Leave them alone!

I have not met a psychic. I don't know what I'd say to them if I did meet one because, if they really can do what they say they can, I don't need to tell them anything. I think I'd just say, "Oh, so you're a psychic. . . . Bye!"

I don't hate psychics. They are just people too. In fact, they are pretty smart people if they've managed to suck in so many loyal followers. I could probably learn some tricks from them. Maybe then more people would read this blog. I think I'm going to have a go:

"HEAR YE! If you want to connect with interesting YET SERIOUSLY MYSTERIOUS AND POSSIBLY SPOOKY internet ramblings, tune in with your PSYCHIC POWERS computer to this website, and ALL YOUR DREAMS might appear in this GLOOM OF TIME blog."

Now cross my inbox with silver..

Toodle-pip,

andrewiconkerr