It's Brent Spiner - On An Ocean Liner!

Nothing But The Truth
 - unusually here at BOOJUM!  This is a still from a film called "Out To Sea", where Brent plays a horribly unsympathetic character looking to bully Walter Matthau and Jack Lemon.  Which automatically makes him the Bad Guy in the eyes of your humble scribe.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Jack.  Jack ASS!

     After all, Jack and Walt are practically national treasures in South Canada, and Conrad confidently expects them to be stuffed and mounted in a tableaux at the Smithsonian when they die.
     As for Brent, one reason he would have taken this role is because it's so ignoble and unpleasant a character, the diametrical opposite of the character he's probably best known for, Data.

In case you forgot

     Incidentally, playing Data must be harder than you imagine.  You can't express any emotions, so the other cast members probably tried to make him laugh at every opportunity.  He has to recite his lines in a pretty flat tone, no emphasis allowed, or you have to re-shoot the scene.  Also, you have to recite loads of impressive-sounding gobbledygook as if it's really true.  Gravitas, that's the word.

You What?
The following cropped up in my Twitter feed today, and - well, it's probably quicker if I just post the screenshot:

Upper left, thanks, not John Prescott

     First, what is "COYS"?  Is it an acronym?  An Abbreviation?  Slang?  All three?  When "Tottenham" is mentioned, does this refer to the London borough?  Who on earth is this Adebayor chap?  He sounds Nigerian.  Was he being held in custody, because that's what this implies.  And - who did eat all the pies?
     I could go Google all this, but my time is precious and they ought to be explaining this to me in the first place.

"Swiss Cottage"
Quite by coincidence - one that I arranged and not Thomas Pynchon nor the Manipulators Of Reality* - I was wondering why this particular area of London is so-named.
     Apparently it's because there used to be a pub located there, designed to look like a Swiss chalet, which was known - no great originality here I'm afraid - as "Swiss Chalet".  When it got knocked down and another put up in it's place, why they called it "Swiss Cottage".  Located at a strategic crossroads, it then gave it's name to the surrounding area.
     BOOJUM! - education in bite-size chunks.

Talking Of Bite-Sized -
If you recall, Conrad made Beetroot Burgers last week, but mistakenly used ready-cooked beetroots that were pickled in sweet vinegar, the end result being overly-sweet.
     Say hello to today's version, made with raw beetroot.

     They taste disgusting.  
     It's like eating wet earth.  Even the liberal application of fiery mustard couldn't completely disguise their horrid tongue-tortuing payload.  I've eaten three, one remains on the baking tray and there's enough uncooked beetroot batter to make at least another four.
     At times like this I really wish that the Code of Conrad didn't exist.
     "What is this mysterious code?" I hear you plead.  "Tell us, Conrad, tell us!"
     Simply put, I Made It So I Have To Eat It.  Think kind thoughts of me, gentle readers.

Z Nation
Glad to see the second series has started again, but I jib - O Goodness do I jib! - at the opening, which was the ending of the first season - Citizen Z is standing at the open entrance of his bunker, watching incoming nuclear missiles that threaten to wipe the bunker and him from the surface of South Canada.  I counted at least five incoming contrails.  I will grant the producers a bit of poetic licence here, as otherwise you wouldn't be able to tell that these were incoming missiles, yet in real life they'd have used their fuel up ages ago and so wouldn't be visible.

From "Dark Star"
Motto:"Only we can prevent suns"

     Sorry, this is NOT how nuclear cross-targeting works**!
     Firstly - this might go on for a while, you should probably go and put the kettle on - a nuclear missile is a horribly complicated bit of kit, that needs regular maintenance.  If it's liquid-fuelled then you can't simply leave it full of gas, as the kind of thing that propels missiles is horribly corrosive and needs to be put in at the last minute.  After three years of post-apocalypse, you can guarantee that these missiles are not being maintained effectively if at all.  They may very well not launch, and if they do so, you can't count on them being on target.
     Secondly, I seem to believe it's actually illegal to deliberately target South Canadian territory with South Canadian weapons, especially ones that make an horrendously loud bang.
     Thirdly, none of these missiles are going to arrive at exactly the same time, although they will be very close together.  The first one that detonates at Ground Zero will create a blast wave that will destroy all the other incoming warheads.  This in known as "fratricide".  
     Fourthly, that bunker that Citizen Z infests looks to be hardened, that is, able to withstand considerable blast pressure.  So why isn't he hunkered down in the basement, hugging his knees and offering up prayers?
     Of course, I may be over-analysing this a bit.

"D'ya think?"

Us Wicked Humans
Yes I say, whilst sipping Chardonnay. This afternoon Wonder Wifey was busy arranging and photographing curtains, an activity that precludes Edna Wunderhund from being present, as she tends to shed black hairs generously and unselfishly over all textile surfaces.  Thus I ended up as being her Human Of Last Resort.
     Not that I was particularly helpful or attentive, I'm afraid, as I was reading Kahn and watching Poirot.

Edna, sulking

     For a small dog she's quite weighty, and bony, and thus cut off the circulation in my foot.  Sweet revenge, she probably thought, for being so wickedly neglected by the Wicked Humans.

Goodness gracious!  Almost at 1,000 words already.





* Pretty sure they exist and are toying with me.
** Get me, sounding as if I know what I'm talking about.  WELL I DO!