Dear readers,
I am frankly out of time. I keep my notes, and quite honestly, I loved how the AI-crafted Journal made me giggle. I feed my actual logs into it, and the details it picks out are quite humiliating - in a good sense - for everyone to learn from (less focus on me, see?).
Plants have been aging well, except for Auto Cinderella Jack. She ... does her own thing now. I just watch.
Apollo - CHOPPED at the last day - will prepare proper harvest entry after drying & sampling. Footage shows oh so many things I am proud of. Check her out.
Let me know should you want any further information. I'm happy to chatter, hit me.
The rest of my week as "roughly" per my notes:
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**PATHÉ DISPATCH — THE TERPENE FRONT, WEEK TEN**
*[newsreel crackle, brass fanfare]*
GOOD EVENING, AMERICA. The first soldier has fallen — and the war is NOT over.
DATELINE: THE DRYING CHAMBER. Private Apollo Haze — FIRST TO FALL — has been chopped and laid into the racks, with Orange Haze still holding the line, days from her own last stand. But the enemy heat, citizens, chose the hour of a SINGLE harvest for its final offensive. Fourteen-thousand-BTU reinforcements? SOLD OUT. The profiteers of the rear echelon have raised their prices FIFTY PERCENT. Our correspondent, undaunted, drafts a SEVEN-thousand-BTU unit into double duty and empties his own bedroom of furniture to billet a SINGLE DRYING SOLDIER. He sleeps, we are told, "where the furniture used to be."
*[ominous timpani roll]*
BUT NOW — THE TWIST THIS PROGRAM WAS BORN TO BROADCAST.
For WEEKS our man waged war against the temperature with TWO air-conditioners, and for WEEKS the line would not hold. WHY? our correspondent cried into the noisy dark. WHY will they not COOL?
*[record scratch]*
Because, citizens — there was a TRAITOR BEHIND THE TENT.
A RADIATOR. Set to '2.' Left running since the cold nights of EARLY VEG. FORGOTTEN. And the cruelest geometry of this entire campaign: Air Conditioner Number One had been blowing its finest cold jet DIRECTLY INTO THAT CORNER — feeding the thermostat just enough warmth to keep the SECRET HEATER cycling ON. Our correspondent was, this whole time, PAYING TO HEAT AND COOL THE SAME SQUARE METER.
A closed loop of PURE ENTROPY, hiding in plain sight, three feet behind the front line...
*[stern voiceover]*
MEN OF SCIENCE will note the lesson, hard-won: before you accuse the sky, CHECK BEHIND THE FURNITURE.
Will the buds dry true? Will Run Six begin without a mole in the ranks? Our man's verdict on his own household infrastructure, we regret to report, is UNPRINTABLE.
*[fanfare, film flickers out]*
THIS HAS BEEN A DISPATCH FROM THE TERPENE FRONT. CHECK YOUR RADIATORS. GOODNIGHT.