Okay - Against The Clock - GO!

IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!
Thank you for paying attention.  
     Conrad's titular assertion comes about because not enough humans are reading the blog, leading to possible issues in 2247 when the invasion fleet arrives from Proxima Centauri, and all humans are either rendered into Mobile Organ Banks, or Mindlessly Obedient Drones.  With perhaps a few allowed to remain as members of the Sons Of The Desert*.

Stand back in resplendent awe at Conrad's hairy wrist!

"Importune"
Yes, I know this sounds like the sort of thing that i-tune or Grooveshark carry out as a default operation, yet obviously - obviously! - it is nothing of the sort.

    What does it mean?  How little do you know - merely what Conrad and BOOJUM! get up to on a daily or more frequent basis: "To pester someone to carry out an act". 

 IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!

Thank you for paying attention.

     - proof, if it were needed.  From the Latin "Importunus", meaning "Inconvenient".

An In that's convenient.  Close enough.

"Mason And Dixon" by Thomas Pynchon
Which rhymes.  Now we are into the winter season of 1766, where the axmen**have taken leave of chopping forests down and instead have a bit of holiday.  Tom then decides to mention 18th Century English folklore ghosts and spirits - remind me how on earth this novel got published? - such as "Hob Headless".  A quick Google does not illustrate any such being, although Conrad does note that "Hob" used to be nickname for The Devil.

You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding

     Then there is the "Shotton Dobby" - probably from where JK*** got her House Elf name from.  Allow me to quote the "Sunderland Echo":

The fields around the village of Shotton are rumoured to be haunted by a very odd phantom – the Shotton Dobby."This bizarre spectre is said to take the form of any number of animals, though larger than is natural," said Rupert."It rushes at people at night, making a weird screeching noise that frightens them half to death. Then, having had its fun, the Shotton Dobby vanishes."

     Well now, that's Tom's research for you.  Here he is, a 21st Century novelist, hearkening back to the days of three hundred years ago, and in Geordie dialect, too.
     How did this novel get published, again?

"A Long Long War"
I dug this work out of the bottom of a storage container full of books, and realised that it must be just over a year since I bought it, at the "Crisis Point" of 2014 that Richard Crawley ran last year.
     I have to say my luck at Crisis Point 2014 was equally as execrable as at Crisis Point 2015, except that this year I got to duck out of carrying 14 huge heavy tables back to the Parish Hall and securing them in the cellar.

Hmmm. He looks like a rather severe version of Mr A Pinder

     It's very interesting, especially as most of the matter is of events now over 40 years ago.  "Interesting" also doesn't cover the sheer depth of hatred that occupied both sides of the sectarian divide, which has now (mostly!) been put aside.
     Again bordering Current Affairs, but if the hatred of The Troubles can but put aside and the end made into something positive (i.e. Northern Ireland today) then you humans do potentially have a future^.

How are we doing?  Do we have a -

Ah!  Bewilderment at how hairy Conrad's wrist is!

Meanwhile, In Eden Underwood - 
You remember bucolic and tranquil Eden Underwood, population 877, set in the beautiful countryside of East Sussex, where there is no petty crime?  Because if you're a criminal, and you ignore the warnings about criminal behaviour, you will disappear.  You and all your family.  

Eden Underwood has a Giant White Squid, thank you very much.

     Well now, our new arrival Niall has now taken on the case of a lady cursed to be everlastingly wealthy but damned forever in love; his cellar is still being fitted out as a rehearsal room, he's made his peace with the Post Mistress, knows where to leave a request for the white witch, located evil henge stones - and has been on Blackmere Heath.  Where once was a Strategic Air Command airbase, right next to the heath itself, which was fatally irradiated 5,000 years ago.
     Eden Underwood!  All smiles on the surface - yet underneath ...

Right, time's up -

Phew - what a relief.  Back of hand nowhere nearly as hairy.

* The whole civilised galaxy likes Laurel and Hardy
** Or maybe "Axemen".  Just no guitars, okay?
*** We're on first-initial terms, her and I.
^ Only until 2247, though.
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