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So while I was being extremely sick 'parvo' virus (possibly, who knows?), I went to hospital and spaced out for some hours on morphine and other drugs, I went back to Jeremy's place to sleep and recuperate. Somewhere in the midst of my potassium/magnesium dreams was the desire to eat lobster.

Anyways, I had a dream about it. Not dissimilar to my dream where I attempt to find a region of stable binding-force at near-planck scale where gluons continually stick to me (well what else would a gluon do?) and muons and other quark particles confound my progress, or even the stranger one where I find myself climbing a larger-than-life size ladder of DNA strands, attempting to memorise the sequence of sugars CBTATTAAACTTA etc. with, for some reason, a most pirate-worthy knife clenched between my teeth (presumably to fight off rogue ribosomes?). No, this one was a stochastic forerunner to hearing Douglas Adams's LNL interview with Freeman Dyson on "Our biotech future."

I dreamt I was attending a party where the dish of the hour was foremost the reason for attending, not unlike tradition Spanish paella cooked in giant brass pans. Only this was more like those roid monsters you see alluded to on urban dictionary, but moreso.

The creature cooked for the gathering was kind of a cross between lobster, sea urchin, slug and cow. It had a large trunklike body with a mouth able to digest small particles of water-borne food, and its primary means of locomotion were over a hundred lobster tails dotted around its body in a Fibonacci sequence extending from its tail. These tails had been, as was the creature itself, the recipient of some very sophisticated genetic engineering! When the creature was immersed into a salted boiling pot large enough to contain its bulk (I would surmise it took at least a hundred litres) special glands inside the tails solidified, forming a substance which while composed of oil approximated the taste and consistency of butter to human tastebuds. The tails could be broken off the creature with the assistance of minor tools such as knives or forks, and either broken in the fingers (for the braver people not afraid to get hot butter on their hands) or snipped with shears on plates, cracking the sides of the tail-shell, whereupon pulling the chitin of the tail-flipper would release all the segments of lobster-flesh, pre-buttered!

I'm sure in my dream they were delicious. One day I'd like to go to such an extravagant party.


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Nova Aurata Quiddity

June 2017

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