A parable

The people came to a wise man and asked, “Tell us, who is good?”

The wise man said:

There were three men, each of whom was building a fire.

The first man has enough wood to build his fire, plus enough to keep it going until bedtime. His fire starts slowly, but soon it is crackling merrily. He is sure to be warm.

Sometimes the flame is high and hot; other times it flickers and is warm. The man makes adjustments as needed, moving logs and adding more to keep the fire going.

He knows that eventually it will be bedtime — should he add an other log to keep it warm, or should he let it die down? He knows there is an end to the fire and to the evening.

The second man has a very large woodpile, enough for months of fires. He uses lighter fluid to start his fire — his father gave him that — so his fire starts explosively, high and hot, and he expects it to stay that way.

He adds logs to the fire constantly, piling on even when the logs beneath have barely started to burn. He will always have more logs.

The third man, alas, has only two or three logs and not very much to start his fire with —some twigs, perhaps some cardboard. His fire starts slowly, oh so slowly, and it never becomes what you would call high or hot. In any case, it will not burn for very long.

The wise man turned to the people and asked — “Which of these men is good?”

A message for my county commissioner

Personal to Coweta County commissioner Al Smith, who said re: a request for a “farm distillery ordinance”, and I quote,

“Since Coweta County is considered a dry county, why would we want this? If we don’t have this now and we never had it, why would we want this?”

and

“People are getting enough alcohol as it is. I don’t see how anybody is being restricted from getting whatever they want.”

If I have ever heard a more reductive “If’n it wuz good enough for my Pappy, it’s good enough for all y’all,” I don’t remember it. Jebus H. Cthulhu, even those of us who grew up here know that Coweta County is not what it was even ten years ago, much less back when you had a flat stomach.

Do you really think that the quality of life in our community is enhanced by this dog-in-the-manger approach to governance? Do you really think that it’s the best interest of our citizenry to make them drive twenty minutes in any direction to stock their home bar?

Or do you live conveniently near the county line, where of course there is a liquor store right over that line, sucking Coweta County’s revenue straight down its gullet?

And how is it even possible that, in the home of Walking Dead and Alan Jackson and Murder in Coweta County, you do not understand the importance of tourism to our bottom line?

I can’t even. And from a Democrat, too.

Tell you what—you come sit out in my labyrinth with me and let me serve you a cocktail and let’s talk about this. If I’m an hour late, it’s because I had to run out and get a bottle of whiskey.

Signed,

An unamused constituent

A thought experiment re: Great America

I have a thought experiment for those whose hats proclaim their dissatisfaction with the way our nation has changed.

Let’s pretend for a second that the Great America you want to force us to return to is not the one where women stayed at home instead of having careers, people of color were simply “colored people,” and LGBTQIA folk were still hidden in the DSM-I.

No, let’s assume for the purposes of this experiment that you are yearning for the stressful yet amazing days of World War II, when the whole nation pulled together to defeat an insidious enemy — on two fronts no less.

Remember how it was?

  • Uncertainty over the outcome
  • The risk of certain death for “our boys” over there
  • Rationing at home
    • (Read an interesting comment the other day about the author realizing that we didn’t necessarily ration because of scarcity but to make sure that the few didn’t hoard; in other words, everyone was limited, but no one went without.)
  • Curtailment of freedom of movement: gas rationing, blackouts, etc.
  • “Victory” gardens/scrap metal drives/War Bonds

In other words, it was a massive Communal Effort that I daresay people griped about at the time but accepted for the greater good. We were Americans, by god, and we would get through this together. America was GREAT.

Okay, I’m sure you already see the parallels I’m trying to draw here. We are again confronted with a massive threat to our nation, and here’s the thought experiment: who is trying to get you to pull together, to self-sacrifice to help save our nation, to remember that you are part of a greater good — and who is telling you don’t need to do that, to go about your business, ignore healthcare issues and warnings, and otherwise carry on with your life as if nothing’s wrong?

And which one are you doing?

Make America Great Again, indeed.

Day 5 of the Captivity: Cleaning out the electronics drawer

It is Day 5 in our COVID-19 self-isolation. I have cleaned off my desk, my drafting table, and one large pile by my drafting table. It is time now to ::dramatic music stinger:: clean out the electronics drawer.

I will liveblog this for your entertainment.

10:08 am

We begin.

This drawer has been the repository for lots and lots of stuff. As you will see as we go through it, the deepest layers are practically pre-Internet.

10:14 am

Here’s the drawer in full panoply on my drafting table.

Right off the bat you can see my dilemma. This is my old iPad 2 that used to provide the music out in the labyrinth.

However, it can no longer be updated, nor will it allow items like Pandora to be updated.  What am I to do with this thing? It doesn’t need to stay in the drawer, and that’s the #1 decision being made today. Into the LATER box it goes for eventual resale/recycling.

10:28 am

Here’s the keyboard/stand that went with the iPad.

Still useful? Probably. So here’s a pro tip about cleaning out a repository like this: touch everything once, make a decision, then put it in the appropriate pile. Since this requires some testing to make a final decision, I’m starting a TEST pile.

The first layer is the most recent and consists of obvious KEEP items.

My new projector.

Our external CD drive. (Thanks, Apple.)

My rangefinder that I use to estimate distances when laying out the burn.

10:49 am

No, it’s not taking me this long to clean out the drawer. It’s taking me this long to document it, edit the photos, upload them, and then comment. APPRECIATE MY LABOR HERE, PEOPLE.

We’re still in the KEEP layer.

Headsets.

These look like random flotsam, but they’re actually part of a kit that I kind of have to go with the projector. I’ve learned from the past: show up with all the cables and connectors.

Okay, this one’s a puzzler. It has flotsam from last summer’s trip to Grand Canyon: room key for our cabin at Bright Angel Lodge; emergency diarrhea medication; a car USB plug; and what appear to be prior flotsam from aforesaid projector kit: plug covers and a ¿remote control case? No matter. This is the new projector baggie.

Another headset. This one is wireless/Bluetooth. I bought it back when I was composing more than I am now, so that I would not annoy the rest of the house with my repetitive ABORTIVE ATTEMPTS and yet not have to deal with the cord while pivoting from the computer to the piano keyboard. You may imagine my annoyance when I discovered it did not work with Finale.

USB microphone, still handy for online meetings.

Same with the USB speaker.

Now we’re getting into the weird layers.

A body cam, unopened. I think this came from my late father-in-law’s stash of electronics. Into the TEST pile it goes.

11:30 am

This is a keyboard cover for the MacBook Pro for those times I have it out in the labyrinth. Still useful, of course. KEEP.

I think this is a hard drive, but whose is it and what is on it? Into the TEST pile.

I have an hypothesis and it is mine and I made it up and here goes: all those missing socks were just the larval forms of charging cables. Their DNA is finally triggered after enough runs through the wash, and they disapparate into a drawer. This is the only sane explanation.

I mean, this connector was at least two MacBook Pros ago.

And what did this go to? LATER, in case the device is still lurking somewhere.

It doesn’t matter that this isn’t in focus. Why aren’t these in baggies/bags/boxes with their devices?

Finally, I know what this is.

I’ll just put it with the other audio cables…

…or maybe not. Into the projector travel baggie it goes.

A Wacom tablet, very useful.

Need to TEST it, though; these things are notorious for slipping behind the current technology. The reason I own it is that my original Wacom no longer worked with the laptop.

Solar-charged charger. Still useful.

These USB chargers, on the other hand, were useful once, but their ability to charge is limited to one charge. Perhaps to put in my shoulder bag when traveling, but certainly not to take to a burn. I’ll need to TEST first (and find their charging chords).

This, on the other hand, is a nice heavy-duty charger I bought for burns. Definitely a KEEP.

But now we’re down to the lower levels indeed. Lunch break.

1:31 pm

And we’re back, starting a very slow exploration of the chthonic layers of the electronics drawer.

An iPod Nano. Into the LATER box (for certain recycling).

Accoutrements for the aforementioned Wacom tablet that died. The tablet itself is in another pile—another day, another post.

 

Ah, but then there are treasures.

What is that, you ask? It’s We Three Kings, and if you’re really good I’ll make you a copy for your holiday enjoyment.

I think the font is Papyrus, and that just about sums up the quality of this wonderful work of #CorroborativeEvidence.

Tucked away in the back was a definite KEEP: the cassette tape converter I bought to convert Aces & Eights, another beautiful lump of #CorroborativeEvidence. Now I can use it to make a quality transfer of We Three Kings.

How does one end up with so many fossils?

Part of it is my impulse to make sure I have enough charging cables for every device in my life such that I never have to go looking for one: one in the car, one in the study, one for the labyrinth, one in the kitchen, and one in the den. What? You don’t do this? Huh, weird.

I don’t even know what this is. The label says RAVPOWER, and it seems to be some kind of adapter, but I have no clue what it goes to. UPDATE: it goes with the heavy-duty charger shown above.

Here’s a major point to make: if I don’t know what it is and I haven’t needed it for three years or more—why am I keeping it? Keeping it out for TESTING, but let’s face it, it’s a useless bit.

Remotes. These were all for software that controls presentations.

The outer ends are Apple products that I’m pretty sure do not work any longer. The middle one I think goes to the projector. NO, I DON’T KNOW WHY IT’S NOT IN THE BOX WITH THE PROJECTOR LEAVE ME ALONE. The others… I’ll have to see if they still work, and if their dongles are in my laptop case.

A digital camera.

Pretty sure my phone does a better job now. Still, it’s nice enough. Does anyone want it?

The Assistant Assistive Feline™, aka Cecil the Pest, is being as helpful as he usually is.

Ah, something useful! A vacuum for your electronics—I definitely need to slip some new batteries into this one and see if it works.

No clue. I mean, it’s an audio adapter, but I don’t know where/when I would have used it.

Software and receipts from the MacBook Pro before this one. (FWIW, I am on Filemaker Pro 17; the company now has 18 and other mutations available.) This goes straight into the trash.

2:33 pm

The last — and strangest — layer.

This is truly flotsam from long past. For example: this is a case for an architect’s scale which now lives in my actual desk drawer along with two others.

Why do I own architect scales? Because, O children, we used to have to draw our set designs and working drawings by hand. That’s why I have a drafting table in the first place. Somewhere in my study are a clip-on lamp and a device that clamped onto the drafting table and slid up and down providing a ready horizontal line (with an attachment that did angles).

What’s left of a drafting kit; the other compass, etc., are on my desk.

Drafting triangles: 45°, 30°/60°. As I said, my German attachment let me do all kinds of angles, so these are truly what I started out in college with. (One day I’ll show you my original drafting board and the canvas tote I designed and made to carry it all in.) These are KEEP because who throws away stuff like this? (The masking tape was to elevate them just enough so that ink wouldn’t bleed under them.)

“Drafting dots.” These were a lazy way to tape your drawings down without permanent damage to them. They seem to be still okay, so I’m keeping them to use with mini-art projects.

Ah, this is a blast from the past. You see, children, working drawings — and here the current members of Newnan Theatre Company are saying “the what now?” — for sets came in a certain order, and this was my cheat sheet for that order. I think this might have been from one of the big Feydeau farces we did back in the 1970s.

More pre-computer stuff: ink.

Remember, these have been sitting untouched for decades in the back of this drawer. Observe:

See how the pigment has completely settled? Decades do that to you.

And what’s this?

I think it’s to apply gold leaf. It still sounds as if there’s fluid in there when I shake it. More exploration is required.

Here’s something from the modern era, a toolkit for you to get into your MacBook laptop and repair/upgrade it. Okay, so it’s not that modern.

And here are a couple of memory cards. TRASH.

A memory card from a camera, I guess. No clue as to what’s on it and no way to find out. TRASH.

You may well ask, am I not seized with fear that I am tossing some beloved memorabilia? Yes, I am, but the logical part of my brain says that I would never have stored anything important on a memory card without making sure I had it in more accessible formats.

Ah, I’ve been looking for this multi-use adapter. Into the projector box it goes.

OF COURSE I BOUGHT ANOTHER ONE IN THE MEANTIME.

A power adapter from a couple of laptops ago.

An audio adapter. Over to the cable corner, which I’ll get to before long I’m sure.

Here’s a fun thing:

This is a Box Rivet Remover. What’s a Box Rivet? Go look. I used to use them to create Reading Caves. I think I have a box in the basement somewhere. Anyway, you use this to pry the little devices apart for reuse.

Memorabilia. A nametag I made for one of those occasions when either the State Board of Education or poobahs from the DOE came to visit GHP and we would have a luncheon for them to chat with students and faculty.

I forget who made this for me. I’m thinking it was back at East Coweta High.

And this one. Mercy.

1990 was the 20th anniversary of my going to GHP as an art major, so despite the fact that I had a two-year-old at home, I thought it was important for me to leave my wife to deal with the child and household for seven weeks. It is truly a miracle I am still a) married; and b) alive.

BTW, if you’re a math nerd, you’ve already figured out that yes, this year is the 50th anniversary of my life-changing summer.

These three cards are safely tucked away in the back of the drawer for my heirs and assigns to find and deal with.

These cassettes must have come in a set, because although I may have had an interest in actors learning British accents, I don’t think I would have cared about the others.

Speaking of two-year-olds, won’t my 32-year-old child be excited to know I’ve uncovered this:

I think this was the choral program we went to and were stunned when he stepped up to the mic for a solo — he had not bothered to mention that to us.

I do wonder what’s on this tape.

I will keep it to find out.

Do people still use these?

They’re white-out tape dispensers. I bought them in bulk back in 2001/2002 when I was translating Marriage of Figaro; I just took the Schirmer vocal score and taped over the Italian/German and wrote in my lyrics by hand. Kept me on track/meter, and then I could just photocopy the results.  (I still have all of that, btw, if your musical group would like to stage Figaro. We had a blast doing it.)

A rock.

It’s probably linked in spirit to this last corner:

Some mechanical pencil leads, and definite flotsam:

These are bits and pieces I’ve picked up here and yon, because these things can become part of art. Especially now that I’ve uncovered them and put them with the incomplete art project where they most definitely fit in.

There were several buttons in there; these two jumped out at me.

Both are meant to be snarky, but the first one has a different resonance at the moment: I don’t need half the stuff that was in this drawer. Clear it out. Let it go.

Et voilá:

Tidy, uncluttered, everything necessary, and room for items that previously could not fit. Not a bad way to spend a day in Captivity.

3:12 pm

Still to come on another day:

  • The TEST pile
  • Converting We Three Kings and Christmas in Our Town to mp3s
  • Tracking down a video camera to see what’s on the Hi-8 cassette
  • Double-checking all the cables with the electronics that are still hiding all over the place; I have hard drives that I don’t think I can even hook up to the computer at this point
  • Cleaning up the cable corner

On the other hand…

Screw it, I’m blogging about the Current Administration anyway.

Eventually, sooner rather than later, Congress is going to want to investigate why our nation was so ill-prepared to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic, as well as why we bungled what we did do.

At that point, you can expect the Republicans/Fox News to start screaming about “politicizing the situation” and “another impeachment hoax” and “election-year showboating.”

It’s a given that the pandemic response was completely borked, so one of two things is true: either 1) this president (who is impeached) and his administration were incompetent at their task of keeping the nation as safe as possible; or 2) they deliberately slow-walked everything so as not hurt the president (who is impeached)’s re-election campaign.[1]

So here’s my preemptive question to the howler monkeys:

Don’t you think that incompetence and/or venality should be investigated? And if found to be true, shouldn’t we want to do something about the man in the office?

I think we all know what their answer will be. I just want to hear them answer it out loud and on the record.

—————

[1] It is entirely possible — even probable — that both are true.

Consume this, capitalist pigs!

I have noted before that I have refrained from blogging a lot about the Current Administration because it would not be good for my mental or physical health. However, the recent debacle in the Rose Garden (CEO: “We’re here for you, America, and we hope to have more toilet paper and hand sanitizer available for you to BUY soon”) had a tiny detail that I haven’t seen any of the better political writers examine, so here we go.

First of all, notice the light blue subtitle: New Options for Consumers.

Consumers.

Not citizens, not Americans, not “everyone.” Not even just plain “New Options.”

Consumers.

I like to think that the poor graphic designer charged with producing this thing deliberately made that subhead almost unreadable, because how fupping embarrassing is that? Consumers.[1]

Second of all, as it happens, there is no screening website. The president (who is impeached) made that up.

But none of that is what I realized yesterday: Despite what the poster says, THERE ARE NO OPTIONS ON THAT CHART. None.

Go ahead, start at the top of the chart and see what options you have to help keep yourself and your monkey circle safe. For example, what if you are asymptomatic but are pretty sure you’ve been exposed to the virus because you’ve worked with someone who is exhibiting symptoms but who has not been tested LIKE THE CHART SAYS BECAUSE THERE ARE NO TESTS, KENNETH? Because that’s exactly where I am. What options are offered to me in that chart?

, stood in front of the American people consumers and held up a poster that is nothing but pretty boxes and lies.

Unfortunately, that’s no more than what we can expect from this administration.

—————

[1] Of course, that’s actually the standard Republican view of citizens anyway: we are merely consumers of the Great Capitalist Beneficent Free Hand. We exist to boost profits.

This has been a long time…

Fifteen years ago today, March 11, 2005, I hit publish on the first blogpost on this blog: http://www.dalelyles.com/2005/03/11/here-we-go/

As usual, its origin date is muddy. I actually began blogging about curriculum and the media center over on Blogspot.com, and then I decided I wanted my own. So I got in touch with an old AOL buddy who hosts these kinds of things, and lo! I had my own domain and my own email address. (Having “dale@dalelyles.com” has been very handy over the years.)

I used to blog a lot on here. I talked about curriculum, the role of the media center, education in general, liberal policies, rightwing idiocies, travel, GHP, just tons and tons of things.

All my creative stuff was posted here. The Lichtenbergian Society began as a blogpost here, and we all know where that led.

Indeed, once the Lichtenbergianism website went live, most of my writing was done over there. Now over here I blog mostly about travel and burning and rightwing idiocies, and the past year or so not even so much about the idiocies — there are just too many of them. I’d be like a golden retriever and a garden hose trying to catch it all.

Who knows? I may get back into the habit of blogging about life, the universe, and everything — as far as I know, we’re all about to be quarantined from COVID-19, so I’ll have to find something to do. It’s not like I’m actually going to finish Seven Dreams of Falling or start Ten Little Waltzes, is it?

Anyway, happy birthday to my blog!

Bless their hearts

Oh, ammosexuals, darlings, this is just sad.

This popped up on an acquaintance’s Facebook feed; I have blurred out the snarky message because 1) it’s just dumb; and 2) I’m not here to discuss that today.

The whole ammosexual/militia mindset is identical to that of the Christianists: they are a defiant band of righteous warriors, persecuted and faced with… what? It’s never very clear other than PERSECUTION, KENNETH!!

But wait—being a ragtag band of persecuted holy ones is only half their mindset. The other half is that they are the overwhelming majority of the population; it’s the rest of us who are pitiful worms cowering before their righteous glory.

I know. I don’t know how that works, either. What’s even weirder is that they are wrong about both halves of their brains. No one is persecuting them, and they are certainly nowhere near the majority of the country.

Nevertheless, they like to think of themselves as the New Patriots, the “3%” — in their terms — who drove the American Revolution to its successful conclusion. (See the ’76’ in the militia logo in the photo?) They regard themselves as the direct inheritors of Patrick Henry and George Washington; the rest of us are effete losers who don’t  know the true meaning of being a MERKIN, KENNETH.

Here’s the deal, though, ammosexuals: the difference between you and the Founding Fathers is that those guys were literate. They were hyper-educated, fluent in multiple languages, cosmopolitan in their worldview and deistic in their theology. They wrote — and read — volume upon volume of long, complex sentences about long, complex ideas with Aristotelian logic. They communicated those ideas to the world in ways that cannot be summarized on a business’s snarky message board.

They were smart men.

You? Well, let’s just say I’m a little skeptical that you will publish the equivalent of The Federalist Papers any time soon.

And here’s a really really huge difference between you and the Founding Fathers: MOLON LABE, your little motto at the top of your sign, identifying you to your fellow ammosexuals as one of the Good Guys, is not exactly the Gadsden flag that you think it is.

Yes, it’s a motto of defiance. It’s what Leonidas of Sparta replied to Xerxes at Thermopylae when then Persian emperor demanded the Spartans surrender their weapons.

ΜΟΛΩΝ ΛΑΒΕ

James Madison, Thomas Jefferson, et al., would have read that in the original Greek, without having to memorize it as an ammosexual shibboleth. They would have been able to translate it for themselves. They’d know that Leonidas defied the demand to surrender their weapons with the immortal phrase, “Come and take them.”

Madison, Jefferson, et al., would also have known the result of that exchange: Xerxes did, in fact, come and take them, wiping out the entire Spartan force in the process. Quite the Pyrrhic[1] motto for such a mighty movement.

Yes, I am laughing at you.

—————

[1] You will want to get someone to explain ‘Pyrrhic’ to you. It’ll be another eye-opener.

I Can’t Even, part 35,687

I was minding my own business yesterday when someone I follow on Twitter linked to this article. Yes, it’s in that liberal satan-site Huffington Post, but here’s the Google search in case you want to find corroborative evidence.

For those of you who are not going to click on that, it’s about disgraced televangelist Jim Bakker and his statement that—and I quote—”Trump is a test whether you’re even saved,” he said in a clip going viral on Twitter. “Only saved people can love Trump.”

Honey, please.

Let me state for the record that I don’t give a hoot about this or any other person’s theology. As far as I’m concerned, Jim Bakker can believe that if he worships Trump enough he’ll be rewarded with many turtles in Heaven. Who cares?

However, when a charlatan like Bakker can’t even adhere to the theology he’s grifting from, duty requires me to speak up.

Simply put, if the Holy Inquisition were still around Bakker would be burned at the stake as a heretic. Yes, we know that in their day you were required to practically worship your sovereign, since they were of course placed their by God himself, but the Church would have taken a dim view of any priest who began preaching that you must idolize Lorenzo di Medici or you’d be damned to hell.

In the article, Bakker contorts himself through some pretty Scholastic hoops to say that Christians must forgive—without saying exactly what the Christians might need to forgive in Trump—but even that is heresy: ‘one is not saved by works but by faith alone’ is a shibboleth that even Bakker would spout if there were time before the commercial.

None of this is anomalous for Bakker; he spouts crazy stuff every day, insane/Uncle Ted/streetcorner stuff. So here’s my question: why is he still on TV? Why does he still have sponsors? Why is he given a platform anywhere other than  his own basement and aforementioned street corner?

Who is paying for this, and why?

Assembly required

You will recall that we spent a weekend in Quebec and that I came home with this:[1]

Now its secrets will be revealed. This is a lighting fixture that I bought at Rare & Different,[2] the fun store next to the CHRISTMAS BOUTIQUE, KENNETH, on rue De Buade. It’s full of these bizarre lamps, all different shapes and colors, and all inexplicably beautiful and fascinating, and all made from the vinyl pieces you see above. If you’re from the area they will build your selection for you while you wait or shop, but if you’re from away you have to take the pieces home and build it yourself.

Here’s how it works: when you’re home and ready to assemble your lamp you email the address on the business card, including the receipt number of your purchase. They then send you the link to two videos: the first one explains the vocabulary they’ll be using (“right/left-leaning,” “rosettes,” etc.) and the mechanical strategies of assembly; the second is specific to the model you picked out. Both are very well done, narrated by Marie-Josée (MJ) Bouchard in a careful yet firm manner.

The concept is enough to make a math major drool: each piece slides into another, like so:

As you can imagine, the lamp is built in layers. My model is the “Saucer,” which MJ pronounces charmingly as “sow-ser.”  Here’s the first layer of five pieces:

And flipped, ready for Step 2:

Here we are after Step 2:

You can see how fascinating the concept is. Imagine a store full of these things, all sizes and shapes—your brain really cannot distinguish which pattern is which or which one is going to be the most fascinating when you get it home.

Stage 3:

In the video, MJ is working with alternating colors on each step so that you can see what goes where. This does not help those of us assembling a pure white Saucer; at Step 6 I got lost every single time. Step 5 was made up of alternating left- and right-leaning pieces, and Step 6 involved adding two pieces to every left-leaning piece. After starting over for the fourth time, I had a scathingly brilliant idea: add a colored paperclip to the left-leaning pieces. That way, I could tell a) which were the left-leaning pieces without peering intently at the things; and b) which piece I started with as I worked my way around.

I still got lost a couple more times before I got it right. Part of the problem is that as you start closing the top, the tension between pieces becomes greater and unfinished rosettes will come undone. That presents difficulties in recognizing where the next piece goes: does it just hook up with its neighbor, or were there supposed to be two “petals” already there?

Finally, though, I triumphed: Step 6, and the ultra-difficult Step 7 to close the top and install the lighting fixture.

Et voilà:

In its natural habitat:

And a video:

No, I’m not leaving it out in the weather (although the shop maintains that the lamps are good for outside). I will store it inside and take it out to install it over the worktable whenever we’re out there of an evening.

So: great lamp, interesting assembly, 10/10 would do it again.

—————

[1] Plus gin.

[2] I would link to the store’s website, but there is literally nothing there but the store’s name and a map.