Some years ago, in 1999, I was diagnosed with a mild form of skin cancer. It was treated with a then-newfangled method called PDT, with gaffa’d boxen and much interest (I wrote about it then). Since some time, oh maybe a few years, I’ve suspected that the cancer came back, and today I got that affirmed, causing immediate treatment. This is why I sit here at 4.30 PM drinking wine. Because the feeling of PDT is akin to being burned by a fat ass cigar, at least in my case. Like I wrote last time, small tiny fireworms move around under the skin, and although the pain isn’t flashing, it’s fucking unyielding. Hence the vino. Anyway, I’ll finalize this treatment next week, with another batch of laser & ointment. Yay! I still bless Sweden for being fairly cheap when it comes to medical care, though.
I have forgotten to write about The Conet Project, a highly scary 4 CD album, downloadable for free from hyperreal, those stalwarts. The Conet Project is a collection of recordings of so-called “numbers stations”, shortwave radio transmissions of – mostly synthetic – voices reading strings of numbers and letters accompanied by eerie squirks and distant music. Allegedly, those stations are spy transmissions. Noone has given any other feasible explanation.
These stations use very rigid schedules, and transmit in many different languages, employing male and female voices repeating strings of numbers or phonetic letters day and night, all year round. One might think that these espionage activities should have wound down considerably since the official “end of the cold war”, but nothing could be further from the truth. Numbers Stations (and by inference, spies) are as busy as ever, with many new and bizarre stations appearing since the fall of the Berlin wall.
At any rate, this is truly scary listening. Try it alone, in the dark. Things will feel cold and hostile and not like they seem to beโฆ