Crablogger, Giraffe, Pynchon,

What Do They Have In Common?
You'll search high and low before finding the answer, and since I don't want you to waste oodles of your precious time hunting, allow me: Blog Titles where there was high traffic.
     That simple, or that complex, if you like.
     I'm not sure if the "-blogger" bit of "Crablogger" got people's attention; the "Giraffe" one is cheating a bit since I'd not disallowed my own site hits, although these can't come to more than 4 or 5 out of about 70.
     Hang on, let that scrofulous scrote Art earn his daily groat.  Art!  Pictures.

The Crablogger

     And -

The camelEopard, as it used to be known.
A giraffe to you and me.

     Not to mention -

Thomas Pynchon!

     I'll apologise for using such an old photo of Tom, if you'll allow me to explain.  Since he started writing, he's been very, very camera shy, and wouldn't allow photographs to be taken for publicity.  He is also - by allegation - extremely canny about when people are going to be taking photos and subsequently dodging them.  One characteristic give-away were his front teeth, but he's now had dental work done on them.
     So!  Hopefully I can summon up the spirits of those old posts to work for me in generating TRAFFIC!

Ah.  Yes.  Today's Coincidence
I was having a nosey at the blog post for this date last year.  Ruminating a little, it does seem rather impressive that I can trawl back that far and still find fascinating anecdotes, pictures of tanks and ranting about First Bus*.  Anyway, I came across this post:

"Hat Trick"

     One of the frivolities that Conrad practices at work to make the 28,800 seconds fly by all the faster is to eavesdrop on other folks talking, which in the case of Dan and Dave usually revolves around sports - football, cricket and anything else contemporaneous. 

Well now, this is just tempting fate, tempting her!  I went to the green bank of lockers to get my bag and who was there but - Dave!  With his customary greeting of "Hello Roberto".
     Having got my book, I then happened to pass the blue lockers en route to the canteen and who did I pass but - Dan!
     The Universe is most definitely trying to tell me something ...

Superheroes With Their Pants Down
Allegory, Vulnavia, not actuality.  Today we pick on Matt Murdock, a.k.a. "The Man Without Fear".  Whilst you and I might achieve such a condition by downing a bottle of Jack Daniels, Matt manages it out of sheer personal charisma.
     You might know him better as "Daredevil".

Daredevil goes batty, you might say

     You may not.  In which case let me inform you that Matt is completely and irrevocably blind.  However, the accident that destroyed his sight also gave him a version of echolocation, as used by bats.  Given that his senses of smell, touch and hearing are extremely acute, and that he is a martial arts expert in at least seven different disciplines, plus a learned attorney to boot, he really doesn't need any sympathy.
     There are things he might find troublesome in the real world ...

Daredevil gets sticky

     1)  Public toilets.  Considering that Matt/Daredevil is a superhero, he wouldn't simply urinate in a back alley, no, he'd use a public toilet instead.  Which is where the problem first arises - male and female toilets are frequently identified with a sign.  It's really not on for a superhero to go palming the front door of a toilet to discern what the sign is ...   And yes, Daredevil could wait around to listen and see who emerges from which door, but again, as a superhero he really oughtn't be hanging around public toilets ...
     2)  Traffic lights.  Daredevil is more used to swinging around the tops of skyscrapers than plodding along the tarmac with the rest of us office drones, yet should he find himself at ground level - 
     Yes he could just wait until the bipping starts - but what if these lights don't have a sonic warning?  And what if the villain is getting away!
     3)  Load-bearing walls.  Given that DD is constantly landing upon, scrambling along or leaping over walls, the chances are that one day he's going to attempt this with a dodgy collection of bricks and not-much-mortar, and it'll collapse under him.  
     4)  Walls with embedded glass.  I don't know how much of a problem these would be in New York, and they aren't that common over here in the UK.  They do exist, though, and one shudders to think how DD would detect such a problem.
     Actually I anticipate that Matt Murdock would have city legislation outlawing and dismantling them run off before lunch-time.  Still -
     5) Oil, water and other spilled liquids.  It's a fair question - how would DD know that an escaping villain hadn't left a long slick of oil on the ground?  How would he know the depth of a puddle?  Stopping in the middle of a hot pursuit to poke around with a stick is, frankly, a little unbecoming.

Jeez.  Balancing high above the city on a smooth stone sculpture.  IN THE RAIN!
What can possibly go wrong!

Shakeshaft
I'm probably still annoying those big Shakespeare fans, Misha and Grisha.  Still, this week they're on leave in Omsk, so they can't get angry and press any Big Red Buttons.
     On we go, laying into "MacBeth".

"Is this a dagger I see before me, the handle towards my hand?"

NO! MacBeth, it's a giant luminous dayglo green elastic band!

Of COURSE it's a knife, you drivelling twit.

Now go and cut up your dinner with it.

"Or is't an image proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?"

Good lord, Mackbee, I'll not tell you again.

This play's set in Scotland, where it never gets hot.

Poor old Bill has - literally - lost the plot.

Boom boom, to quote Napoleon.
     

Catching it?  Throwing it?  Telekinetically controlling it?
Only you can tell!

I could go on, but we're at <checks> 975 words already.




* Some things remain wonderfully constant.