Bitten By The Coincidence Hydra's Hideous Heads

Again!
This is getting more worrying, not less.  As you recall, last night I was going on about Oscar, my subconscious, providing a bit of input for the blog, which is one of the times that the voices in my head actually do something useful.  I have also of late been banging on about S.A.G.E., the old South Canadian radar defence network; bear this in mind, I'll be coming back to it later.
     Back to Oscar, who kindly threw up the acronym "W.O.P.R." as well as Corfe Mullen.  Due to my inherently unhealthy reading diet of thermonuclear weapons and strategy (as well as attending a gig at The Bunker), I interpreted this acronym as "War Office Planned Response", which would have been the UK's equivalent of the South Canadian "Single Integrated Operational Plan" - essentially which Sinister target was going to be blammed by the big-bang bombs.
     Not quite, Conrad, not quite.  It's actually from the 1983 film "Wargames" and is the Major McGuffin computer: War Operational Plan Response.  

It's not that big

Essentially a Doomsday Machine (stand up and say hello Doctor Strangelove!) which Herman Kahn was pretty much 100% sure was a Very Bad Idea.  Although unlike the real-life total annihilation that ought to result, WOPR becomes sentient - and a bit smug with it - and decides not to blow up the world*.
      So.  WOPR.  Which is the successor to - SAGE!

Goes well with a bit of added sage

     Don't go away.  We have more of the Coincidence Hydra tonight.

It Makes Me Cross
Yes, yes, I know there is a very long list that at last count mustered well into the thousands of things that annoy Conrad.  I am talking here of a very specific cause, and I can hear you weeping in sympathy already.
     You know Conrad**.  He does love him some words - or else this blog would not exist and all you'd see would be a few photographs.  Failing the crossword - do you see what I did there? - is irksome.  IRKSOME!  It is my belief that The Metro has changed their compiler and made it more difficult as a result.  Grrrr!  GRRRRR! 

Bitten By That Hydra Again
At lunchtime I shared the breakout space with that charming young lady Emily, who bravely makes chit-chat with your humble scribe, which deserves your sympathy.  She was talking about how she gets discounted parking at a car park, just as Conrad was nodding and filling in the crossword, the clue being "The price of waiting?" (7,6) - 
     PARKING CHARGE.
     As I said above, this is beginning to worry me.
     Oh, and what did Rob^ write on the display board in our training session this afternoon?
     CAR PARK.

This is a really really good Danish electro-rock band

Blue Oyster Cult
Conrad notes on Facebook that one of the Suggested Posts is actually for one of his favourite bands, B.O.C.  This is a welcome change and also underlines my policy of being positive about the Foobs and Twits.  It can be an effort at times, mind you.  Art?

     Cynical old Conrad, long in the tooth and wise with it, notes that there is a serious omission of the most important thing:  the cost.  Plus - London?  Not very practical for your humble scribe up here in the North West.  I'd need to probably take two days leave, catch a train and stay overnight in an hotel.
     Nor do we know exactly what iteration of B.O.C. are playing, which is an important point with music saddoes enthusiasts like me.

"Bleeding Edge" By Thomas Pynchon
Normally the Coincidence Hydra restricts itself to lurking menacingly in the pages of Tom's novels, although recently it seems to have gone free-range.
     Anyway, I'm sure you'll be delighted to know that Conrad is reading this novel again, at the point where Maxine goes to Montauk Point, with a vista of the abandoned S.A.G.E. base and, later, a descent into the belly of the beast via tunnel.  Almost a confirmation of the Montauk Project Conspiracy Theory, Tom liking a bit of conspiranoid fantasy (these fantasists always nearly always being wrong).

As Maxine would have seen it

     Plus, what is it that Maxine sees in that stairwell, since the description is almost supernatural?  Never resolved.
     And the old TP problem has arisen for those guilty of staying away for more than a day:  complexity of characters.  I've lost track of who is what and why.  Except Conkling Speedwell; him you're not going to forget.  Nor his Naser device***.


And we're at limit, meaning time for me to go have some tea  - I mean fight off the zombie hordes, because that's rock 'n' roll and Loose Leaf Darjeeling is not quite so much.

Chin chin!


*  Yes this is a good thing!
**  But not too well.  That would be both dangerous and frightening.
***  He's a freelance Nose
^  Not me.  The other Rob.