And to ease the concerns of Biggrtiggr who doubted such orderly wiring could exist in Thailand; this is how the connections look a little further down the street:
Comments 🔗
2010-09-17| biggrtiggr saysNeat wiring…….. surely not Thailand?
2010-09-17| Mike saysIts funny I was just thinking the same thing the other day that I should go around and photograph all these neat wiring jobs as a classic work of art :-) But the best award goes to the people who did the repair work from Second Road onto Thappraya Road. The holes get bigger each rain. They paved a patch which lasted exactly 12 hours after the rain so they filled with rock and crushed bricks. This lasted about one week and back with better crushed rock and mud. Finally they put some tar over all the mess which lasted exactly one day. Now they put more asphalt as patches in the hole with the tar. Will they ever get this roadwork done.
2010-09-18| Billy saysDon’t know whether you noticed this, however, if you imagine the wires as the stave, the pole as a bar line and the birds as clefs of various sorts (according to their posture) then, quite amazingly, what you have here is a particularly moving passage from the finale of the 1812 overture.
Could you go back and get me something by Donovan?
2010-09-18| Spike saysMike, Thappraya Road shock, horror, probe expose on the way soon; once I can be arsed to go and take some photos of the mess.
Billy, well spotted. But not the 1812. It is of course the opening bars of “Bird on the wire” by Leonard Cohen, from which the title of this post is taken.
“Like a bird on the wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried in my way to be free.”
Genius. Unlike Donovan.
2010-09-18| Billy saysHe’s five foot-two, and he’s six feet-four, He fights with missiles and with spears. He’s all of thirty-one, and he’s only seventeen, Been a soldier for a thousand years.
2010-09-18| Spike saysOh, I forgot about that; yes that is a classic. Make that three tracks on his “best of” album.
2010-09-18| Billy saysI had a dream as daylight touched the sky As breezes chased along the winter lane. I had a dream as dreams alone I dreamt Has every man his chain, Has every man his chain ? A negro hid beneath a face of blood And is there really anyone to blame ? I marveled at the beauty of children’s minds. Has every man his chain, Has every man his chain ? I saw a beach of sand beside the sea And there before me I saw every grain And I wondered, well, it was best this way Every man has his chain, Every man has his chain.
And at least you don’t feel like committing suicide after listening to Donovan :-)
2010-09-18| Spike saysOK, now that is bollocks. Please stop.
2010-09-18| Spike says
2010-09-18| Pete saysWhen I did music, there were only 5 lines to the stave. It’s got to be some wierd stuff that has 8
2010-09-18| Pete says*weird. Sorry, before GJ gets around here. Fingers working too fast !!
2010-09-18| biggrtiggr saysThank you for restoring my faith in Thai power transmission engineering