Back to work

People, I’ve spent a looooong time wading through thick shit, a sport I cannot recommend to any of you. Especially since it does absolutely no good to your casting.

But even the best things end up boring, I decided I’d better tidy up a little this here blog, throw a couple of buckets of coal in the steam engine, and make shit happen. Like breaking in the 100’s or even do a proper rollcast. I may even attempt to actually catch a fish.

(Stolen from the Limp Cobra who stole it somewhere else)

As a practitioner flycasting kung-fu (sic), I was born ready for battle, and I am now readier than ever. Up and coming : fun with Goulven’s Belle, a fast 6’6 3wt. A future expedition down south to get my sorry butt kicked by one of the very few casting übersensei living in France. And plenty more experimental stuff at the vice and on the lawn.

Stay tuned!

Upside down

Sudesh Pursad, hot from the Frontpage of Sexyloops:

I was fishing 2005 National Championships and had drawn a guy by the name of Jacques Marais as my boat partner. Now Jacques is an amazing angler who had incredible skill and mental toughness, so I was lucky to draw him as I could “steal with my eyes” as we fished. […]

So Jacques and I set out on a pontoon boat. After fishing the first one hour hard, we still had not a take between us. Really hard going, even though we knew up front that Lakenvlei is a tough beat. The water was dead calm and the serenity of the valley that we were in must have got to Jacques. He just lay across the pontoons facing the sky, and then tilted his head backwards until it was just above the water surface. Puzzled and completely fishing focused, I thought that this was rather strange behaviour – in the midst of a fishing session as well. “Try this”, he suggested. Not intending to miss something, I did…

I cannot accurately describe the view and the feeling; suffice to say that it was nothing like anything that I had ever experienced. The upside down world, with mountainous cliffs, the stillness of the water, the sweet sounds of a few birds, a very gentle breeze all reflecting off the smooth water surface just seemed to be amplified by it many times over. I was awestruck. In those moments of peace and tranquillity in an upside down world, calmness drained away the tension created by the stage. WOW!! We savoured every moment for at least ten minutes, lying there on our backs with our heads just above the water.

Where’s my boat? I need some perspective.


So it seems one can also throw a tailing loop in life.

Mine just collapsed as a big pile of shit, which is not cool. I may need some time to roll cast it straight again. Meanwhile I may post somewhat less than usual, but stay tuned: as soon as I don’t feel like to puke and/or to kill someone any more, I’ll be back with tons of exciting stuff I learned with the gang in London.

I’m off…

… to Heidelberg for a couple of days, to do philosopher’s shit, the kind which requires formal semantics, abstract argumentation frameworks and Ratnakīrti, but probably no fly rod.


Anyway, Heidelberg is nice, philosophers go there to do their stuff since forever, and there will be plenty of very good people, so I’m looking forward to it.

William Turner, Heidelberg, watercolor (1846).

Meanwhile men of the lake and wood and other friends are going to fish the Salamandre for big rainbows. I should have been there. I hate it when work and fishing interfere. A better man than I am would wish them good luck. I just wish they had chosen another day.

The bastards. ^_^

Visite du cockpit

(The following has no relation whatsoever with fishing. You’re warned)

Today I thought I’d introduce you to another aspect of the TsC&C lifestyle. For you may think that TsC&C is but a way to build a rod, or even a cover up for my lack of skill to do so. You couldn’t be more wrong. It’s a complete weltanschauung, my friends, and nothing short of that.Take the g0nefishin9 cockpit for instance, the very place from which all those verbal stunts are delivered to you. Here it goes:

As you can see, they don’t come any TsC&Cer. The astute reader, blessed with a keen eye for details, won’t fail to notice that my children are exceptionally creative, that I have at least two rods on which I must wrap the guides, and that g0ne is powered by Ubuntu. But wait! What’s that thing on the left?

That, my friend, is the ultimate TsC&C computing device, the g0nemachine

A motherboardful of awesomeness, hardly outputing 18dB at 1m. Obviously some yellow livered hard-gamer freak may object that this is just a pile of crap components, which is correct except for the CPU fan and the power supply (ie the noisy parts). For the rest I don’t give a damn. I don’t do Call of Duty MW3. I write papers and a blog.

Unrelated, trash and chic, certainly no cheap, Prada Fall-Winter 09-10

Paul Bernard

rodbuilder emeritus and a friend on the Rodhouse forum, has good taste when it comes to blogs: he decided to talk about our modest efforts in the very exposed blog/webpage he writes with some friends: Congrats Paul! You’ve just been officially made a benefactor of the g0ne. This elite status comes with no special privilege except the certainty to be of a rare breed indeed.

Another "rare breed indeed" according to google images, which is quite right for once

Vox populi,

also known as the People’s Voice, thundered in its crater and issued a most explicit message: whatever.

So I’m making it official, this place just falled the other side of the linguistic divide. Rejoice, O you my French reader. g0ne is no longer a guilty pleasure, it’s now a part of your education plan, training your English skills. Such as: profanity. Disrespect for grammatical good form. Sentences lacking verbs. Verbing any substantive (one of the coolest features of English). etc.

Still, I wouldn’t give the impression to the three of you who voted Flaubert and called for more Jeanne d’Arc that I turn a deaf ear to your plea. Without further ado, I give you:

(Angel) Trico hatch, Joan! Fish are surface feeding. Hurry! (Joan) Where's my trusty 4wt?

L’heure a sonné

Le trafic sur ce blog se traîne à fond de cale, ça me bourre, je veux que l’Amérique se prosterne à mes pieds. France, si tu ne te lèves pas en masse dans les plus brefs délais, t’auras plus qu’à Google Translate.

Parlez maintenant or forever hold your peace.

Questionnaire de Proust-Walton

Aujourd’hui sur g0ne, j’annonce une nouvelle série. Je voulais inventer une ruse pour amener à contribuer à ce blog les pêcheurs qui me parlent, à travers leurs écrits ou en direct, ceux qui me font rêver ou vibrer ou réfléchir ou baver ou n’importe quel autre affect d’intensité suffisante, pour peu qu’il ne soit pas triste (:wink wink: Spinoza)…

Marcel Proust, faisant le malin

J’ai donc inventé un questionnaire, vaguement adapté de celui de Proust, tordu pour le rendre pertinent pour la question de la pêche, que j’ai en conséquence finement baptisé le

Questionnaire de Proust-Walton

Si tu étais une rivière :
Si tu étais un poisson :
Si tu étais une technique :
Si tu étais une saison :
Une qualité que tu admires chez un pêcheur :
Une qualité que tu admires chez un poisson :
Ta plus vieille/belle/terrible/atroce/étonnante histoire de pêche :

Watch this space, comme on dit en Auvergne. Premier invité bientôt, Paul Arden, Mr. Sexyloops en personne. Planquez les demoiselles.

Le taff…

… me prend beaucoup ces derniers temps, ce qui ralentit un peut les choses sur g0ne. Mais surtout, il était temps de dépoussiérer un peu mon Ol’ Trusty, plus connu sous le nom de ‘la machine’ ou ‘sa sexytude’, je veux parler de l’éminence grise du blog, celle qui fait que tout ça est possible.

g0ne is brought to you by: beauté nue

TsC&C jusque dans son informatique, g0ne avait définitivement besoin d’un nouveau système d’exploitation, et d’un grand nettoyage de Noël de son disque. Chose faite, un bon formatage des familles, et réinstalle générale de tout, à commencer par mon linux qui passe à l’Ocelot Onirique. C’est joli, je ne raffole pas de l’interface graphique mais c’est toujours comme ça au début. (Quel genre de débile a besoin de fenêtres molles ?) Mais surtout, je lui ai mis la blinde d’espace sur le root /, histoire qu’il respire un peu mieux.

Et j’ai définitivement viré window$, dont je ne me suis pas servi depuis trois ans.

J’en profite pour préciser que contrairement à une idée reçue, ce n’est pas avec un mac que vous serez sexy les amis. C’était vrai à l’époque héroïque où Apple se battait pour vivre et sortait à peine l’Ipod. Il ne reste plus de ce temps que du plastique blanc, d’excellentes batteries, et 70 formats propriétaires tous plus fascistes chiants les uns que les autres. La vraie sexytude, celle qui n’attire que les femmes les plus sublimes et fait de vous la matière des légendes, vient bien entendu d’une boucle pointue aussi sur le backcast, mais également d’une familiarité divine avec linux et en particulier avec la ligne de commande.

Et jetez le boîtier de votre tour si vous en avez une. C’est moche. Ça sert à rien (quoi qu’on en dise chez Lian Li). C’est pas TsC&C. Si vous avez peur que le chat fasse mumuse avec votre carte mère, jetez aussi votre chat.