Beep

AltaVista reveals the following word count on the Web:

beep:      625,434
beeep:      12,191 
beeeep:      2,962 
beeeeep:     1,264 
beeeeeep:      931 
beeeeeeep:     453 
beeeeeeeep:    866 
beeeeeeeeep:   273 
beeeeeeeeeep:  562 
beeeeeeeeeeep: 131

What I found most intriguing is the surprisingly low count for beeeeeeeeep (9 E’s). I can’t imagine why this is the case.

So I repeated the search with variants of the word “bleep” and got these results:

bleep:     51,388 
bleeep:       328 
bleeeep:      170 
bleeeeep:      95 
bleeeeeep:     48 
bleeeeeeep:    36 
bleeeeeeeep:   19 
bleeeeeeeeep:  33 
bleeeeeeeeeep: 14 
bleeeeeeeeeeep: 7 

Look at that — there’s a SPIKE at the 9 E variant!!!

What could possibly account for this?

More Fungus

I’ve been getting a lot of questions regarding my last post. I’ll try to answer them here.

It’s been incredibly frustrating trying to find specific information. I don’t even know its common name, much less the scientific one. People just call it “the fungus.” Most people don’t seem to know much about it, or even care — except for the people who actually grow the stuff, but they contradict one another wildly.

In fact, Dortmund (a German guy who’s pretty big into the whole scene here) assures me that it isn’t even really a fungus at all. But he won’t be more specific.

It is usually edible, even the glowing parts. I’ve heard that it might be mildly toxic, but that you’d have to eat a truckload to get sick. Dortmund, on the other hand, says that it’s not only non-toxic, it’s actually nutritious. He claims to eat nothing but. And he looks pretty healthy. He says that this stuff was the original and only food of humankind, before we were corrupted by the plow.

But I’m not sure I can trust Dortmund. He seems a little unstable — he’s homeless — but he can grow fungus like nobody’s business. He helped me with my first batch, showed me how to rig up the swabs and how to fix the poles on our decaying rooftop. You have to stay up with the poles all night and sway them back and forth through the night air. Dortmund spent the whole night with me on the roof, laughing at odd intervals and telling me jokes in German, and I swear you could actually see the spores accumulating on the swab. (Not really, but it seemed that way.) Those were the spores that gave me that first spectacular batch, and I’ve often wondered if Dortmund’s influence had something to do with it. He continues to drift on from rooftop to rooftop, and fantastic growth seems to follow him wherever he goes.

Meanwhile I bumble on. I’ve spent many a sleepless night up on the roof, swaying the poles; I’ve spent a fortune on growth medium; and no results. I’m beginning to suspect that I’ve been played the fool.

Fungus

There’s a variety of fungus that people cultivate down here in little rooftop gardens. I’ve really never seen anything quite like it. They only grow at night, and very quickly too, so that they complete their entire life cycle in just a few hours.

There’s a whole subculture surrounding these things, which is how I first found out about them. People have rooftop parties where they get together, watch the fungus “bloom” and then carve it up and eat it. They’re not hallucinogenic (I know, some people are probably wondering “then what’s the point?”) or if they are it’s very subtle. The main focus is more on the social aspect of just getting together and having a good time.

In fact, most people aren’t really interested in the fungi at all, which is a shame, because they are fascinating organisms. They grow to be almost three feet tall (in as many hours!) and they’re mostly dark orangish-red, dappled with darker-colored spots and lighter-colored knobs. But there’s an incredible variation from one specimen to the next. Occasionally I’ve seen ones that glow faintly in the dark. They’re not shaped like mushrooms at all; they’re more like giant-size asparagus.

It took me a while to wheedle out information from the people who actually grow them. They’re an odd lot. It’s not that they’re secretive, exactly, but they seem to have a hard time expressing themselves. Or maybe I’m just dense. But they get into a quasi-mystical fervor whenever they talk about growing these things.

Eventually I gathered that key to the whole process is collecting the spores. The most common method is to use big swabs of damp cloth. These are mounted on long poles on the roof and left up all night. In the morning they’re taken down and the spores are extracted, if there are any. The whole process is kind of hit and miss.

I thought this was very strange.

Once the spores have been acquired, they have to be planted almost immediately or they’re no good. Only they’re not really planted like a seed would be; they’re placed in a “growth medium.” I’ve never really understood what this medium is, and I think different people might use different semi-secret formulations of their own. When I ask about it all I get is technical mumbo-jumbo about “polysaccharides” and “red algae” and (I’m not making this up) “sulfated galactose monomers.”

Whatever it is, the shit’s expensive. In fact, I’m embarrassed to admit how much I’ve spent over the last few weeks. The guy I’m buying it from is one of the more successful growers, and he says he’s giving me a discount.

What’s really frustrating is the lack of results. I did have an initial batch of spores that grew up nicely, just when I was getting started; I called up everyone I knew, and a bunch of people came out, and we had a nice little party. Xy & I were both pretty psyched. But since then, I’ve had almost no luck at all — just a few stunted things that look more like ordinary toadstools than anything else.

I’m getting tired of putting up the damn swabs every night, but I keep thinking of that first crop that was so beautiful. I just wonder if I could swing a better deal on the growth medium…