Andy Hawthorne

The thing about notebooks is that they have one job. One…

When I sit at my creative output delivery platform (desk, in the old world) conceiving of things to write about, I realise that dark matter is at least 27% responsible for what happened next. 

The primary issue with the day, as with most days that begin with the vague, nagging promise of productivity, was the creative output deficit. 

We just wanted a healthy drink on a quiet Sunday afternoon…

In the improbably vast and frequently malfunctioning universe, where planets collide for no good reason and black holes belch out lost socks, there was once a thing called Tea.

In the improbably glitchy corners of the universe, where technology promised to make life easier but mostly just made it more expensive, there existed the Neural Implant. 

In this grand epoch year of 2025 it occurred to me that my life would be infinitely improved if I could acquire a drinking receptacle that kept my beverages warm for longer than a Earth minute, a thermos mug would do the job. 

Bob Death didn’t like funerals. And he had no idea why he was at this particular one. 

I’ve decided to start a new blog. An interesting concept when you think about it.

Sid Quantum was a physicist of considerable reputation.