Namaste, India And Hi!, Oz

Don't Think I've Had Readers From Either Country Before
     In fact I've never had so many readers, full stop.  Well, greetings from BOOJUM! to the world's biggest democracy (currently having elections, I believe) and the world's biggest island.
    (No, sorry, Antarctica doesn't count.  It's my blog and thus facts, logic and real-life follow what I decide*)

This comes from a digital book entitled "The Last Journey: From India To Australia".  Very apt.

Deep-Sea Diving Technology
     We've had the bathysphere, and the bathyscaphe.  Now let us examine ALVIN.  This vessel used a material known as "syntactic foam" in it's construction, which combines bouyancy and structural strength:

ALVIN.  Named after Allyn Vine.  Why not call it "Allyn Vine"?

     I can tell what you're thinking**.  "But Conrad!" I hear you cry.  "It's so not-spherical - and you said we'd be seeing that design recur ever so often!  Resolve our confusion!"
     I can give you a cross-section of ALVIN that will clear matters somewhat:

Also, that key you lost is down the back of the sofa.  There.  Confusion resolved!

     As you can see, the pressure sphere that contains pilot and scientists is, after all, a sphere, but a sphere buried within the non-pressure bearing parts of ALVIN.
     This little chap has been worked hard - over 4,000 descents, including the exploration of the Titanic.

     An Aside Concerning Doctor Who
     Allow me to allude to that Jon Pertwee classic, "The Sea Devils" (whom I dubbed the
     "Parrot-Pigs").  At the end of one episode we see The Doctor venture to the sea-bed   
     in the English Channel, inside a diving bell (already blogged about, go back and re-
     read!).  When it returns to the ship, a naval officer inspects it and glumly shakes his
     head at Jo Grant.  Next we see a Sea Devil diving bell (of sorts, a rather dada design)
     having it's top removed to reveal - The Doctor, now a prisoner.

"Hey Timelord - wanna buy a CD twenty years early?"

     One thing never explained is how the Parrot-Pigs got our Timelord hero from the 
     human diving bell and into theirs without i) Crushing or ii) Drowning him?  Eh? Go
     on Mister Malcolm Hulke***, the ball is in your court!

Elementary, My Dear Rowlatt
     No, we're not talking about the world's first consulting detective and his trusty sidekick Watson, we're talking about chemical elements.  I see persons of taste and refinement at the Beeb have taken up BOOJUM!s idea about fun with the elements.  Today they have chlorine, to wit:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-27057547

     I won't make a fuss about this, but when my fleet of invasion starships arrive, dear old Auntie Beeb is going to get a laser-cannon makeover that will smart quite a bit.

My Routine - Disturbed!
     Part of Conrad's Saturday afternoons consists of dogsitting Edna, whilst the others of the tribe go out and barter for exotic goods amongst the highland tribes, in the wilds beyond civilisation up here in Ultima Thule - sorry, Royton!  Royton.

View from the back windows

     Being a fastidious creature of habit and routine, Conrad brews a giant pot of tea which he drinks in the kitchen, and catches up on reading and novel-wrestling.  Edna sat and strolled and generally whined when alone in kitchen with only Conrad for company, until she settled down and I could annotate "The Kraken Wakes"^.

A Kracker.  Close enough.

     However, when I got up to page 65 of "Against The Day" (Thomas Pynchon), she started a long complaining streak.  I told her off: "Edna, this is Pynchon.  It's not an easy read, there are divergences and allusions, motifs, endless new characters.  Your whining isn't helping!"
     Then I fed her and the whining stopped.  Darling Daughter emerged from her pit and Edna, now having an audience of two, stopped her whinging.
     But, dammit!  I'm only up to page 83!

The Journey Back From Leeds Or Stag Party Part 2
     I got onto the train and sat opposite a younger man - shaved head, lots of biro writing on his left hand alongside a big scab, trainers and a suit jacket - who might well have had a bit of beer inside him as he was fearfully chatty and outgoing.
     Normally Conrad would favour him with a cold stare, put in i-pod earphones and read a book.  That night - it is no exaggeration to say Conrad had a bit of beer inside him, also, and he was considerably chattier than normal.
     Third person to arrive - imagine the Drunk Judge from "The Fast Show", but with a tie he wore for a bet, and absolutely bladdered.

Really, they could have been twins.

  This gentleman claimed to be a barrister, and might very well have been.  He and the other chap swore mightily at each other, especially after Drunk Barrister cracked a tasteless joke about South Africa.
     I did cause a pause in hostilities when getting out my travel supplies - a bottle of vodka, a bottle of coke and some disposable cups.  Younger chap thought this hilarious; Drunk Barrister cadged some off me.
     He rambled on about what he called the "Pisorious" trial in South Africa, until the guard arrived and wanted to see his ticket.  A long fruitless search of his pockets ensued, so when the young lady returned, he had to pay up again.
     "Money doesn't matter," he slurred.
     Both got up to leave at Huddersfield, fortunately, as my diplomacy in preventing either from attacking each other was wearing pretty thin.     But, it had been an entertaining 10 minutes.

Conrad on the right with his DISTINGUISHED hair. DISTINGUISHED, not Grey, okay?

*  I probably won't change the laws of physics, causality and reality.  But then again ...
**  This is a metaphor.  We all know telepathy doesn't exist.
***  The scriptwriter
^ Now up to half-way through.  Yes, that it impressive, isn't it?