BOOIUM! - Evocative Yet Not Vituperative

Which Is Pretty Much A Lie From The Start
"Vituperative", I should add, means insulting and unpleasant, which is Conrad's default setting (as you surely know by now).  This blog title proves two things:
     1)  Conrad is a deceitful unprincipled unapologetic liar
     2)  He is fond of using long obscure words 
     Guilty on both counts, your honour!  Why, only this afternoon I was using the word "Alumni" of young Dan, no longer with us*.  Any of my South Canadian brethren and - er - sistren? - here present will know what I mean; what might be called an Old Boy here in the UK.
     None of this has anything to do with what I was pondering on in the kitchen as I put away the evening's shopping:  how the Rolling Stones are not human beings any longer**.
     Really, they're not!  Just do the simple mathematics and see - they began in 1955, 60 years ago, and were all into their thirties even then.  Mick Jagger is a cyborg, as much machine as man, so whenever a bit wears out they just chuck it away and plug in a new one.  Keith Richards is a zombie, you can tell just by looking at him; I mean one of those Haitian versions, not the George Romero version.  If he were the latter then Rolling Stone's fan's brains wouldn't keep him going for long.  Charlie Watts is a robot, plain and simple, sporting a shaven-head look because it's difficult to get hair right on a robot.  Keeps excellent time on the backbeat, however.  Ronnie Wood is indeed made out of that very substance, with a moveable jaw so that a puppeteer can make him seem to speak.  And anyone I've forgotten is a hologram.

Vindicated!
Okay, maybe they're ALL zombies.

Mead
I like the Harvest Gold variety available at Morrisons because it is cloyingly sweet, always a good thing in Conrad's opinion.
     Doing a bit of research for NANOWRIMO, what did I discover but that mead has an immensely long history, easily going back to Sumer and Babylon.  That's ooooold, man***.  That's not all, the word mead coming from Old english "Meodu".  You make it by fermenting honey in water, and it can come out at Strong Beer Strength - 8% - or Falling Over Strength - above 20%.  Nor is the sugar-sweet variety the only one, as it comes in semi-sweet and dry versions, also sparkling.

Mustard and Mead?

     The flavour depends on the honey used, what additives are used (if any), the yeast and how long it's aged for.  There are dozens of different kinds, including:  Cyser, metheglin, melomels, pyment and - one for you, Pete - Dwojniak, which is Polish.

"Weregild"
You know Oscar, my memory, and/or my mind, depending on how I'm feeling at the time.  Today Oscar came up with the word "Weregild", which is not quite out of left field as I have a Theme I've been working up - this must remain a secret^.
     I had a vague memory of it cropping up in "Lord of the Rings", and I was correct.  Isildur takes the One Ring from Sauron as weregild for the deaths of his father and brother.  Ah now, if only he knew ...

"With this ring I me dead"

     The word has two parts, "Were" which is Old English for "Man" and "Gild" which is again OE, for "Price".  Essentially if you injured or killed a person in pre-Norman England, you had to pay restitution for the crime, and a little toe cost a lot less than a dead person.  A rich, important dead person was worth even more weregild.  Which isn't social justice, especially as it would have prevented the Anglo-Saxon equivalents of Jedward to remain alive longer.

Damn you, weregild, damn you!

The Pub Quiz Last Night
As ever, there is one extremely tricky historical question that nobody got correct last night, not even our team.
     What's that?  You are desperate to know what it is?  Very well then -
     Q)  Who was the author of the Charlie Chan novels?
     A)  Earl Derr Biggers

Hmmm.  I sense a theme here.

     No sniggering at the back there!  It's not an anagram, nor a pseudonym.
     Aaaaand today's coincidence hits home.  I've just been looking on Wiki for a link and what do I see but "He was posthumously inducted into the Warren City Schools Distinguished Alumni Hall of Fame".
     Allow me to post the link:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earl_Derr_Biggers

     And there you have it.

I don't think that'll do instead of a key, mate.
Besides, you could always call a locksmith.

* No, he's not dead, you termagants!  Moved to another employer.  DO keep up!
** This presupposes that they were ever human in the first place.  Let us assume so.
*** To be quantitative about it, 2500BC
^ No it mustn't, said Mister Hand.  It's about the letter "W"

Time, Like An Ever Flowing Stream -

Actually That's A Bit Nineteenth Century
If you remember Conrad's slightly bizarre discursion on the matter of time and reality, you'll remember that time is a bit more three dimensional and with considerably greater depth than a stream.  Plus, a stream goes only one way, and - look, Doctor Who's reconstructions of past events, future events and alternative events proves that you can flit around in time, and it's a whole lot more structured than a "ball of wibbly wobbly timey-wimey stuff" thank you Tenth Doctor!

Awesomely simplified time mechanics explained

     I mention time as it's currently flowing along at high speed.  This is partly to do with First Bus being late, slow and overcrowded - Hey! three of their trademark features - and the looming presence of the Pub Quiz, which I haven't attended for four weeks now.  Squished between these pillars of chalcedon chronicity, is my free time.  Part of this is occupied by the blog and these lines you see before you, part will be - well, that's for later in the post.  Part of it might have been baking, except the slice of alloted time for that is getting ever smaller.

The Metro And "60 Seconds"
The Fish-And-Chip Wrapper has been on a relative roll, for it.  Tuesday they featured Nick Frost;

 Wednesday they featured Joanna Lumley;

 and today they dropped the ball in typical Tomorrow's-Bin-Liner fashion with a person called "Mark Watson";

 whom Conrad has never heard of.  Nor am I bothered enough to Google about him.  I do know what an avocado is, though.

Pumpkin Puree And Peanut Butter Biscuits
I made the dough for these earlier in the week, and then had to stick the dough in the fridge as I didn't have time to bake them.  Yesterday I rolled out the dough and made 23 biscuits, viz:

Yeah, yeah, there's only 22.

     "How can you have baked these and be lamenting about no baking tonight, Conrad?" I hear you call in protest.  Actually these are dog biscuits.  Quite edible if you as a member of Hom. Sap. wished to eat them, although not very sweet.  Crunchy as all get out, however, and Edna went demented for them last night.  In the spirit of sustaining friendships I have presented some to Anna and Katie at work; hopefully Anna will not indulge in the tease she tried last time, almost allowing Mark to scoff a biscuit ...
     Oh, there's only 22 in the photo because Edna ate the other one.

You What?
Another bizarre Suggested Post from the Foobs, and Conrad really wonders where they get their ideas from.  All I know about motorbikes is what I've learned from Colin, and that rests at the fact that they come in air-cooled or liquid-cooled versions.

RMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

     As Conrad is an utter coward, you will not find him ever getting on a motorbike, since everything else on the road is harder, heavier, feels less pain and is more stable.  With the possible exception of a push-bike; and they don't go fast enough to be lethal.
     Don't go away, there's more.  I have no idea what this is about:

???????????

     Linux is computery-wutery in some vague undefined way that has never impinged on Conrad's awareness, and what "Udemy" is, I throw to the audience.  Hungarian noodle soup?  A spirit avatar of the Nez Perce indians?  Active ingredient in  Old Spice aftershave?  Norwegian dish of pigs trotters pickled in aspic?
     If you have the answer, please confine it to yourself, Conrad does not care.

"Big Money" By PG Wodehouse
I've not bored you with an analysis of this yet, have I?  Don't worry, I shall merely observe that it was written in 1951, and is thus slightly more contemporary in tone than "Piccadilly Jim", although looking back on the latter, written in 1917, one of Plum's subtle touches is that it is timeless and could indeed almost be set up to the present day.
     What of things in BM?  Conrad sees mischief, heartbreak, ruin and wrack in the future, which sounds especially jolly, don't you think?
     Take Berry Conway's mine.  I foresee trouble, money trouble.
     The Biscuit and Anna's engagement; true love thus, inevitably, there will be trouble.
     T. Paterson Frisby and Aunt Velma Mace: Tears.  That's what it'll end in.
     And this only 1/5 of the way in .....

Welcome To Urquelumplangia!
Yes indeed.  Situated in Central Europe, at the crossroads of Slavic and Teutonic kingdoms and culture, this Seventeenth Century kingdom of the Royal House of Blodaussehend is - entirely made up.
     It's the country where Markus Van Ogleheim, official Mage to the Royal Court, lives and suffers.  Markus, you see, is a pretty rubbish wizard, a fact which he is happy to acknowledge.  His main preoccupations in life are brewing mead and breeding finches - until the other nineteen wizards of the kingdom are all killed in a mysterious and tragic accident, putting him by default into the official position.

Wizard!

     Well, having come up with the royal court, the wizard and his apprentice, I'm having great fun in creating the background for my NANOWRIMO novel.  I've got until 31st November to enlarge the above to a 50,000 word plot. On top of all my regular diversions.
     Wish me luck!



* No asterisked points today, I just put this in to see if you were paying attention

Oh Frabjous Day!

Kalloo Kallay!

If you don't know, those are actual words from "The Hunting Of The Snark", from which poem - obviously! - we derive the name "BOOJUM!", although the exclamation mark at the end is all my idea.

     After yesterday's performance by First Bus, Conrad was expecting further delays today thanks to traffic clotting in the city centre, the 24 terminating in Royton and a 20 minute wait for the 409.

     But no!  The 24 arrived on time, got delayed getting out onto Great Ancoats Street, but ended up passing by the Mansion only 10 minutes late.  As I like to point out, for First Bus, that's almost on time.

                                                 As I was yesterday.  Close to the edge*.

"Piccadilly Jim" By P G Wodehouse

After finishing this, I felt compelled to share my thoughts with you about this novel.  I know people hang on my every word when it comes to literary criticism, especially when venting a bit of temper.

     Sunny mood all round today, however.  Shall we begin?

     i)  First of all, the title.  Most of the action takes place in New York.  So there.

     A small point, perhaps, yet Conrad feels honour-bound to bring matters like this to the attention of those who might be about to read it**.

Noo Yawk

     ii)  Crocker Senior being Skinner the Butler, in New York.  I did worry that I'd missed the explanation of this.  I hadn't.  Proof that I'm not senile yet, and/or Plum forgot to add the explication in it's proper place, which is that he absconded from London in order to be able to attend baseball games in New york.

     iii) Mrs Trimble.  Does she crop up elsewhere?  I like her monumentally misanthropic mien and misandrist worldview, and her (literal) roving eye.

     iv)  It's delightful to witness the eternally trampled, downtrodden and humble Mr. Pett rise into an excoriating rage and deal with his wife, the sponger Partridge, and that repellent bag of suet Ogden.

     Bravo, sir!

What's In A Name?

As you surely know by now, Conrad delights in posting crude satires of contemporary film titles, usually ones that he's seen on bus posters.  This means waiting a few weeks between posts in order to accumulate material.

     Well, here's a thing.  I've not been able to make anything diverting or amusing out of the title "Burnt".  Give me another week and I may have something.  Meanwhile -

THE LADY IN THE PAN: "Well tasty!"

THE CRESSMAKER: "Water job she does!"

STEVE JOBS: Does he?  Myself, I call it "work"

THE HUNGER GAMES: MOCKINGJAY: "Poor Jay - how cruel!"

THE MAZE RUNNER: THE SCOTCH TRIALS: "Damn the dram!"

Okay, okay, it's a pot, not a pan.
Whose blog is it?

There you have it.

     

Justice League: Gods and Monsters

This animated adventure helped cheer me up yesterday.  There's nothing quite like a massive bloody punch-up battle to make things seems sunnier, especially since it's not you doing the suffering.

     This Justice League are not the anodyne moral preachers you might expect.  For a start, there's only three of them:  Wonder Woman, Superman and Batman.

     Wonder Woman likes to chop things up, Batman is a vampire (but that's okay as he only drains the blood of criminals), and Superman is quite happy to kill the bad guys stone fricasseed dead with his heat-vision.  

     Quite a refreshing change!  Not only that, Lex Luthor is the good guy querying the JL's morals or lack of them -

Good, except for the feeling quite poorly part

     - and just who is trying to frame the JL to get them out of the way?  I really didn't see the villain coming, nor his sidekick.

     Anyway, it all ends with a colossal blam-fest, 

Supes beating the butter out of a bad-boy bot

the traditional ending for a cartoon like this.  Which has high levels of gore, a few swear words and isn't afraid for the cute kid to get BLASTED TO DEATH alongside his dad.

NANOWRIMO

Finally, and not before time, Conrad is pulling together nebulous bits of plot and character for National Novel Writing Month.

     The setting would be the cod Seventeenth Century kindgom of Urquelongia, a name that the monarchy admit is not very noble or evocative, but it does go back a long way. Heredity.  Tradition, don't you know.  There's King Viktor the Seventh and his Queen Carmilla, plus their two horrible children, Prince Gorgomond and Princess Malvoisie.  And the story would centre around the borderline nutcase wizard Markus Van Ogleheim, whose greatest ambition is to breed finches, brew mead and tutor his ignorant apprentice Walter.  Except the Official Mage incumbent - and the next nineteen wizards all more competent that Markus - all died in a mysterious accident, so he is now Official Mage by default.

Gorgomond in all his hirsute horror

     And stuff like that.

Klinton Spilsbury

You know, the star of that 1981 flop "The Legend Of The Lone Ranger".  To date that film is his sole acting credit, so Conrad wonders where he is now and what he's up to?

     Probably the same place that Bram Tchaikovsky retired to.

Here's Bram:

Public Service Broadcasting would love this

     And a link to an article about "The Legend Of The Lone Ranger":

http://www.ew.com/article/2013/07/02/lone-ranger-klinton-spilsbury

* Sorry.

** You're welcome