Late For A Saturday

Yet I Have My Reasons
     One, it's my blog and I post when I feel like it, not when you demand, okay?
     Two, I have a social life beyond BOOJUM!  Yes, it may be stunted, citric and run through with veins of toxicity but a social life it remains.
     Three, the muse can be an errant lady who chooses not to inspire your humble scribe until late in the evening.  Women, eh?  What can you do, what can you do!

Idle moos.  Close enough.

Form Follows Function
     If the function of your remote-controlled probe is the examination of a potentially hostile fluid environment that you, unprotected, cannot survive in, then it would be a logical step to say that there would be certain constants in the design of such instruments.
     For instance, 

Martian version, 1953 version

     I was struck by the design similiarities inherent in this Supsalv submarine probe:

If it were a frontal view, yes, you'd see it's sinister THREE-LOBED EYE!

Just a thought.

Tensions Rise in Tcherbervan (Capital Of Andrevia, Remember?)
     Our Correspondent reports that Russian Spetznatz have indeed occupied the International Airport, halting all incoming and outgoing flights.  However, the expected mass deployment of regular Russian troops has not taken place; speculation points to a lack of any "incident" that would give them an excuse to carry out such an exercise.

"Please form an orderly queue, lest you die young"

     Meanwhile, French elements of their Rapid Deployment Brigade (part of their treaty forces operating in Macedonia as UNIFIM) have been seen returning to barracks and preparing for movement.  Since these NATO/OTAN troops are the nearest to the Black Sea, informed sources state they are preparing to enter Andrevia.
     In the capital itself, government forces are out in force at the town centre, guarding (or, some would say, occupying) the television centre and Ministry of Culture.  Ancient tanks of World War Two vintage have been taken out of mothballs to mount an armoured cordon outside strategic locations.
     Most disturbing of all, the Turkish and Armenian militias of each faction's city quarter have been exchanging fire all week, in escalating amounts.  What was simply occasional sniping has now ballooned into full-scale battles involving dozens of fighters wielding increasingly heavy weaponry.
     Bengt Sigurddson, panel member of the judges at this year's Eurovision Song Contest (being held at Malmo in Sweden) pleaded for all sides to try and settle their differences peacefully, and expressed concern for Andreivia's ESC group, who have not been seen in public for several days.
     "Music serves to break down barriers," he stated.  "In the spirit of Eurovision, we appeal for our comrades to be set free."

Weep, brothers and sister, weep!  For the Andreivian party is not there.

Angels And Airwaves
     This has been my "Car CD" for today, for at least a couple of hours.
     I can tell what you're thinking, and yes, it is a mystery why Julie Roberts married Lyle Lovett, a man who looks like a walnut tree suddenly gained sentience and put on clothes.
     Ah!  Sorry - you were also wondering what a "Car CD" is?  Simply put, it's a CD I think deserves to be given a prolonged second chance by being in the Qubo's CD player for a week or so.
     So, on today's drive to and from Dungworth, it was Angels and Airwaves and their "I-Empire" CD.

I-Pod.  Close enough

     Hmmmm.  Conrad retains his impression of first listen.  The producers - who might be A&A themselves - have smoothed the production out so completely that there are no rough edges.  This also kills any spontaneity the record might have had.  They seem to have been going for a Greenday sound, which is perhaps why they don't have a keyboard player as a band member, despite every song having keyboards present.  Overall the sound is rather "samey", not in a good way.
     Damning with faint praise, 2.5 out of 5.

Angel in the air, waving.  Close enough

Dungworth City Limits
     I have posted once or twice about Storrs (where Richard Crawley lives) and Dungworth (where his local pub is), and how they exist in the tranquil Yorkshire countryside but five minutes from the heart of that steely metropolis, Sheffield.  Since tiday we walked to the Royal Hotel, Conrad experienced the utter silence of a Yorkshire landscape in mid-afternoon.  Back home in Royton there's a never-ending stream of traffic outside the house, broken by an ambulance every twenty minutes, then a massive tractor towing an enormous, empty echoing trailer, with horses gallumphing down the back alley, too.
     The only sound in Dungworth were those of birds tweeting and chirping.  Conrad half-expected a black cat to run across the road before an army of zombies/fleets of flying saucers/masses of soldiers in noddy-suits came marching over the fields.

Dungworth at rush hour.

Edna!  Look Cute For Daddeh!
     Most BOOJUM! posts wouldn't get any traffic without our resident fiery furball.  So, in the spirit of boosting visits, may I present Edna being squishy:

As the quote goes, if she fits, she sits

     
That's all for today.  Be back tomorrow on the same bat-channel!