As you ought to know by now, the official swear here at BOOJUM! is "Dog Buns", which sounds sufficiently rude and malodourous to qualify as invective, yet which allows us to keep our much-hallowed SFW status, although we did once post a picture of female statues not wearing a lot.
I'm sure you're already ahead of me here, especially if you read yesterday's latter blog about "Night Train" fortified wine. By "Bleeding" I refer of course to the most recent magnum opus by that South Canadian man of letters, Thomas Pynchon.
Here an aside. Tom's novels are long, dense, crammed with characters and often include words not used outside the mancave of a crossword compiler. Yet he hits up the New York bestseller lists. Do people - a foul accusation pends dear reader! - do people simply buy his books so they can stick them on the shelves (with a small highlight directed upon them for emphasis) and thus look cool and trendy, without ever actually bothering to read them?
"I say, old chap, steady on there!" I hear you gasp. "That's a bit much. Innocent until proven guilty and all that."
Anyway, let us square up to -
"Bleeding Edge"
I hope you appreciate the work I'm putting in here. You can impress all your friends and sound frightfully intellectual without having to put the effort in, thanks to your humble scribe. Of course I benefit as well, as it means I weed out the facts from the fictions, TP being a creatively tricky customer.
All page numbers are from the Penguin 2004 edition.
Page 14 "Bill Gross": An American financial manager and author and when we say "manager" you are talking about hundreds of billions of dollars being managed. That kind of manager.
| Bill - he knows how to accessorise! |
Page 16: "The Perejil Massacre": a ghastly little bloodletting in 1937, where Dominicans killed a very large number of Haitians, the total being disputed. "Perejil" is Spanish for "Parsley", and legend has it that the Spanish-speaking Dominicans distinguished between Dominicans and French-speaking Haitians by how they pronounced the word.
Page 20 "Night Train": Cheap fortified wine. Apparently drinking a bottle results in the same effect as being smacked around the head with one.
| This looks appropriate |
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| This may be one. Conrad not really interested |
This Beer Here
I bought the first bottle as it seemed a bit of a challenge, although given my stomach the only thing I can't digest would be nuclear fuel rods. I bought the second out of a sense of curiosity. What is either Tyskie, or his friend Gronie? What else does the label say? What are the ingredients? And (the kicker) what does it taste like?
Let's Just Muster A Bit Of Ghostbuster
As you should surely know by now, Conrad has a sweet tooth. In fact, it might be more accurate to say that he is a six-foot tall sweet tooth that walks. Anyway, trawling through the aisles of B&M yesterday, he came across this -
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| Yeah! Maybe. |
I shall have to inform Twinky Tom at work, as he too is - you might say <snicker> a bit hinky for Twinky***.
AAAAnd Here Is The Coincidence Hydra -
- come to munch on my buttocks once more. I must taste delicious because the ravening beast is always coming back for more. Anyway, here is a Tweet from that Man of the Millenium, Brooce Campbell!
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| Note that placename: KEWEENAW |
Right. The creepy thing is that Conrad keeps a copy of "The Kraken Wakes" at his deskside, as you never know when the urge to develop a screenplay from your notes will strike. Art?
"Pshaw!" I hear you exclaim. "Pure nonsense. Doesn't prove a thing," just before the BLOOD LEAPS OUT OF THE DISH - whoops, no, sorry, that was "The Thing", wasn't it? What I meant was, take a look at this detail -
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| Ha! |
* Occupying the conceptual space normally reserved for Anna, who is on holiday.
** That film with girls in does not count. IT DOES NOT!
*** It's perfectly safe, Vulnavia, he'll never read this.
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