Entropic State Report 11th September 2020

Autumn is upon us (or Fall for our American pards… interestingly I learned from the grey fees only a few days ago that the British nomenclature of Autumn is only a fairly recent thing (century or so) and prior to that we said Fall too, but I digress) and temperatures are plummeting up here int’ Bratfud ‘ills.  Also the plague continues to ravage the land, resulting in local lock-downs being extended and national restrictions being implemented and seemingly changed about every 37 seconds. I write this on a Friday and I suspect by Monday it will be mandated that we may not leave our bunkers lest we don full rubber suits and gimp mask accoutrements to nip round corner for all remaining bags of wine gums to restock the kitchen apocalypse box (or, at a push, sports mixture).


Given that in-person recording seems to have fucked off again for a while (Phil and I excepted of course) I’ve dusted off the online recording manual I wrote* after trial runs with Hussein (see previous Patron extra) and Loz (see pending patron extra… well you can’t yet but you will soon) and we’ll be giving that a ruddy good going over to keep our steady, some might say languid, pace up. ┬áHussein will be back in the saddle shortly, provided he stops causing mini-civil wars in the North-West of England. Loz and I will be coordinating a selection of stupid beers so we can crack on with part two of The Knight of Swords, and Phil and I will be shortly knocking out the final part of our look at The Eternal Champion. In the ‘to be pursued further’ pile, we also have the possibility of another ‘side-scursion’ into the realms of brutal WW2sploitation and a first dive into the realms of Moorcock-infused prog rock in the company of a true expert. So many pies, not enough fingers, or hours in the day.


Meanwhile, we’re spending this weekend in the entertainingly uneven seaside town of Skegness, the only place I’ve ever found a bucket and spade shop that also sells crossbows.  They don’t know it yet but my intention is to co-opt my travelling companions into an impromptu game of Stormbringer and record it.  I’ll let you know how that goes and if they don’t tell me to bury my head in the Skeggy dunes or take a crossbow to me, I’ll upload that next week as another patron exclusive.


Reet, as they say somewhere or other here in the North, I hear a transition approaching. Before I get whisked away, thanks again to Simon Perrins for another refreshed version of the BitR logo!


Take it easy pards, I look forward to setting you a table at the Terminal Cafe.
Andy


*did not actually write