It's James T Kirk - Being A Jerk!

Ha!  I Thought That Would Grab Your Attention
Technically, you can argue that it's not actually Captain Kirk being a combination of prima donna, hysterical teen queen and Captain Ahab all in one.  No, it's actually the consciousness of Janice Lester inhabiting the good captain's body like a meat mitten*, the resulting chaos being a direct result of an involuntary body-swap**.

More like a push than a jerk, but you get the idea

     It all ends up happily in the end, and Bill Shatner was probably grateful to show how good he is at carpet-chewing performances so hammy you could grill them and put them on a sandwich.
     Oh, forgot to add, the episode is "Turnabout Intruder", the very last Star Trek episode.

Ah!  That's more like it.

Wow!  Look At This!
As seen in The Metro, which means as it's an actual NEWS article it must be sourced from an agency, as all their journalists do is publish puff pieces on celebrities or IT kit.

NO!  Not the drivel about football -

      Really, that scrofulitic slacker Art gets worse by the day.  Allow me to just Tazer him into a bit of job responsibility -

<loud screech off-stage>

That's better, Art.  Have a paracetamol

     This is a "Space Elevator" as imagined by the Thoth company.  It's a bit of a misnomer as a real Space Elevator would have to be something like 250 miles high.  Still, 12 miles is nothing to sneeze at.  The idea is that spacecraft will take off and land on the platform, meaning a colossal saving in weight as they don't need fuel to lift them 12 miles in the firt place.
     The problem with the concept was that no material yet known to man would be able to support a structure that went into orbit.  Only going 12 miles removes 95% of the material problem, and the mass is dealt with by virtue of the elevator being inflatable.
     For your information, the concept of a Space Elevator was put before the public by Arthur C. Clarke, in "The Fountains of Paradise"

Which leads me to ask -

What's In A Name?
That made me wonder, why did Arthur style himself "Arthur C. Clarke"?  I mean, by the mid-Sixties he was one of the Big Three of British Science Fiction (the other two being Brian Aldiss and J.G. Ballard***) and could easily have dispenced with that middle "C".  It's not like there's a plethora of Arthur Clarkes now present in British sci-fi that he could be or have been confused with.
     Whilst we're on the subject, what's with Yngwie J. Malmsteen, Norwegian speed guitarist par excellence?  He added the "J" to distinguish himself from the multitudes of other Yngwie Malmsteens?  The other Yngwie Malmsteen speed guitarists, who form a sizable fraction of the overall world Yngwie Malmsteen population?

Where's the "J", dammit?  I have a laborious unfunny point to make!

    And to further extend Conrad's bothersome take on names, what about Douglas Fairbanks Junior?  <pause as Conrad checks out Wiki to appear wise , safe in the knowledge that Mister Hand would ne^
     As I was saying, Fairbanks Senior popped his clogs in 1939 yet his son continued to be Junior for the next 60 years, which is a 

<LOUD EXPLOSIONS IN THE BACKGROUND.  A SIREN WAILS.  DOGS BARK, GEESE HISS>

Mister Hand has temporarily taken over BOOJUM!  I have only a few short seconds to post a rhyme puncturing the effete pomposity of the reactionary tyrant ruling the Mansion (Conrad, if you fail to follow my subtle language).  You also need to know that his Sunday Best name is "Rob", which is what he does all the time.

     Quick, he's coming back -

HELLO ROB, YOU SAD OLD GIT

THE WORLD'S UNWELL - YOU'RE STILL IN IT.

WELCOME TO YOUR FIFTY-FOURTH YEAR.

DOG BUNS! THAT MEANS YOU'RE STILL HERE.

 little odd - hang on, who's been typing whilst I've been gone?  Jenny?  Edna?  
     Damn it, I don't have time to investigate.

Today's Coincidence
During slack times in the office, or, frequently, on carrying out a task of especial onerousness, it is fair to say that Conrad's attention wanders a little.  Well, when I say "a little", I mean it puts on hiking boots, dons a knapsack and goes off around the Lake District.

Or, sometimes, Lake Como

     Today I was thinking one of my perennial thoughts, "how can I decoy more people onto the blog?" and decided that it would be profitable and seemly to gratuitously insult the mighty James Tiberius Kirk - I'd love to have been in the room when Mister Kirk explained to Mrs Kirk about that middle name - and thus risk having Mike and Greg, the Strategic Air Command equivalents of Misha and Grisha^^, getting annoyed with me.
     What was the surname of the person whose case I was logging whilst I was pondering on the good Captain?
     "Tribble".  Yes you read that correctly.  I've never come across that surname before, not in 3 years working at both the Creaking Victorian Slum or The Electric Goldfish Bowl and yet here it pops up
     DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT WITHOUT WARNING!

Irony.  Writ large

* An uncomfortable image, for which I apologise.
** Yes, involuntary.  Do you really think Kirk would willingly allow another person to test drive him?
*** Why did he call himself "J.G." and not simply "Jehosophat Gargruel"?
^ MISTER HAND!  You traitorous cur!
^^ You remember?  Those loveable conscript officers serving with the 172nd Missile Regiment out at Strategic Rocket Forces Base Sixteen, Novi Palatinsk.