Mysterious hydraulic overdrip Mars administer

I'm now a legitimate human being in the eyes of the Swedes. Yesterday, after a long struggle, hostilities finally ended between my forces (aka the forces of good) and the various embassies, consulates, and migration departments that I was up against (aka the forces of evil). My demands have been met, I now have work and residence permits.

This meant a trip back to London. In the few days I'd been away, Jo had doubled the guard on the perimeter and rebuilt most of the outer walls. But I lay in wait with 27 of my most trusted men, watching the ducks and sparrows til their flown arcs spell'd victory, then stormed the battlements and retook the castle keep. It was from this base that the final blow was dealt to the withering Swedish forces who still stood against me.

Two major battles won, I coffee'd with KT, but to write here what we discussed there would be so circular and self-referential that it could be damaging to the logic circuits in any computers used to read it. Afterwards I went to the Tate Modern, which was by turns enjoyable and perplexing. Best was Pollock's Summertime 9A (a glimpse is shown above). They had little headset things and, along with various rediculously inane bits of commentary, you could listen to some jazz from JP's personal collection while sitting in front of it. Quite the shiznit! I guess Chia, at least, would love it.

Now back in Umeå, all is jubbly.

Some entertainment c/o Jo:
XTREME to tha XTREME, this is hardcore: Speed climbing without a rope.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, that guy has since climbed his way to heaven, or fallen his way to hell, I don't know enough about his ethical life to say for sure which.
But he ain't with us.

Need to get a bear out of a tree, and all you've got is a tranquilizer gun and a trampoline? We've all been there, here's how to fix it.