I Miss The MCC - Again!

No!  Nothing To Do With Cricket
 - nor Hell's Angels Motorcycle Chapters, either.  No, gentle reader, I refer to the Manchester Comic Con, which was I bothered about sufficiently to make a note in my diary, and then promptly ignored.
     I missed it last year, and the year before that, when I think Darling Daughter bothered to attend, although her critical commentary amounted to how long the queues were.  Pah!
     There is a silver lining to this towering Cumulo-Nimbus Of Doom, which amounts to your humble scribe's amount - in the bank.  Payday is not until Thursday and any excursion to an event like this would inevitably and obviously - obviously! - involve spending lots of £££.  I'm not sure on what, exactly - trade paperback comic collections, probably, if not on other memorabilia - but there would be expenses, o yes indeed.  The downside is that there are enough people present with self-confidence, swagger, darning skills and a desperate need to be loved to wear costumes by the hundred - which would have kept BOOJUM! going for weeks.  Weeks, I tell you!  I shall instead allow the internet to act as photographer for yours truly.  Art?

Hercules, Stormtrooper and - er - Killer Pirate Rabbit?

     The event suffers somewhat by comparison with the recent San Diego Comic Con, which is a typically South Canadian exercise in being bigger and better, which they pulled off, to be honest.  Warwick Davis versus Bruce Campbell?  Close call but Ash gets the BOOJUM! vote, baybeh!

Small Mercies:  Be Thankful For Them
As I'm sure I've bored you with previously, I am re-reading Herman Kahn's "On Thermonuclear War" and am making notes on it, instead of merely moving my eyes back and forth across the pages.  We have - I know it's only me, but if I'm going to inflict my most boring pastime ever on you all then a little inclusivity is needed - we have reached the dispassionate description of a Doomsday Machine.
     I know what you're thinking.  Art?

Doomsday Machine, planet-scoffing variant

     Nothing so abstruse.  No, Herman invokes the spectre of a massive thermonuclear arsenal buried deep underground, so that nobody can interfere with it; if it receives input about a certain number of nuclear detonations taking place on home territory, then off it goes bang.  No human input involved.  
     "Hang on!" I hear you squawk.  "The 'small mercies' bit - where does that come in?"
     Well, in a footnote Ol' Hermie puts that he doesn't think it necessary for this Doomsday Machine to actually, physically, destroy the planet's integrity and turn it into ten trillion tons of gravel.  No.  All it needs to do is generate sufficient long-lived radioactive fall-out products to extinguish all life.
     Phew!  For a minute there he had me worried -

"Let's build a totally autonomic artificially intelligent missile defence system!
What can possibly go wrong!"

Free Beer
I believe this used to be the code phrase to return SAS troopers to their barracks in the event of something like Colossus deciding that Hom. Sap. were a little too fond of the "free will" thing.  And, again allegedly, it got changed because mothers or spouses stood aghast at what their sons or husbands would end up like if they had the chance of getting Free Beer.
     Relax!  This is nothing about the Ruffian's Western Strategic Military District getting mobilisation orders.  Art?

Free beer -
"ADVANCE TO CONTACT!"

     This is the free beer that Conrad came home with on Friday, and it's not bad stuff, actually.  4.1% we were told when issued.  Conrad, thinking with his brains, realised that the folks handing out the bottles were probably on a strict issue criteria - warn about the strength and NO MORE THAN ONE BOTTLE PER PERSON!!! because folks need to drink responsibly.  And handing out more than one bottle per person would be the height of irresponsibility; even though there's nothing to stop Conrad stealing bottles from everyone across the floor and going home with a bag weighing 7 stone that clinks alarmingly.

"Barry Lyndon"
This film is getting some fresh press of late, seeing as how it was made 40 years ago to the day, something like that.
     So what? responds your talented typist.  I've had it on DVD for years and it's great, much like an Old Master come to life in front of your eyes.  Never looking less than fantastic, it covers all bases, although it might be a little intellectually chilly for the MTV generation.  There are things exploding, though.  Art?

Prussians.  Not to be confused with Russians.

     Tut!  Not very explodey.  Try again -

Better.
Prussians and French, going at it somewhat.

     Are we at count yet?  O we are.


     Good night!

Ravings From The Potrisonic Brain

Cheer Up, It Could Be Worse!
They might remake "Ghostbusters" with an all-female cast - oh, no, wait, that really happened, didn't it?  I thought I was dreaming.  Nightmaring.
     Actually I should be careful wishing for things, "Potri" is apparently a real thing, a first name in Malaya - for girls.  "Sonic" we all know and love as being what comes out of an i-pod.  Currently this is "Quiet Village".
     Okay, onto the Intro, and today Conrad focusses his beady electronic eyes on Mad Scientists.  Why?  Why not!
     The question surely on your lips every waking moment is "What motivates a mad scientist?" which is a short query with a very long answer.  Which is good, I have a word count to hit.

     Typically your Mad Scientist falls into one of two groups:  1)  Benign or 2)  Outright Evil.  For the former, imagine Doctor Emmett Brown from "Back to the Future" and for the latter - Rotwang of "Metropolis".  If benign then we tend to see them played to comic effect; if evil then we're in horror movie territory.
     "But Conrad!" I hear you verbally contest.  "What about the simply amoral - like Viktor Frankenstein?"
     Yes, Ol' Vik creates life because he can, not out of a wish to conquer the world, except look at the body count!  Besides, hubris is still a sin.  I think you'll find that 'amoral' gradually shades into 'immoral' and we're back in that horror film.  Besides, Doctor Moreau did his vivisections because he could, and I don't see his island on the Thomas Cook list of "Top 10 Resorts To Visit Before You Die" <ahem> "Top 10 Resorts To Visit".

Moreau's island paradise

     For a literary version, see anything featuring Professor Branestawm, eccentric genius who wouldn't harm a fly.  Nor a human being, either (I had to stick that in there for the cynical and hair-splitting amongst you).  Don't forget Uncle Quentin of Enid Blyton's "Famous Five" novels masterworks, either.  Who can forget his absent-mindedly trying to eat soup gone rotten and green after being left for weeks!
     You could even add Doctor Who of the Third variety to the Benign list, as he was always tinkering (anti-gravity Model T, anyone?) although always to a positive end.

Bessy - 0-150 mph in 7 seconds

     For the prototype Evil Mad Scientist, look no further than Rotwang, as mentioned above.  He's so evil he invents a wicked robot that - er - dances topless?  And - and  - erm - it adopts a hologram disguise of the saintly Maria in order to <thinks hard> i) Take over the world ii) eat all the pies?  or iii)  bag all the sunbeds*?

Rotwang (plus robot)
Demonstrating "How To Scare Cats The Mark Kermode Way"

     Enough of Mad Science!  Let the phaeton of phantasy be carefully trotted forward under strict adult supervision -

"Lion Rampant" By Robert Woollcombe
I picked this off the shelves at the Oxfam bookshop, wondering if I'd already got it, although at a quick glimpse it didn't seem familiar.  I have read it, ages ago, and here's a coincidence for you.  Art?

     A broad outline map of the battalion that Robert belonged to and where it went.  The inset map reveals the following:

s'Hertogenbosch!

     The town of s'Hertogenbosch is where your humble scribe spent the summer of 1982, working in a Dutch pickle factory.  See the line of the River Maas?  That's where a high embankment runs along the river's edge, upon which Conrad ran in the middle of a thunderstorm, which, as a local pointed out, is pretty stupid.  It's the highest point for miles around and the one place lightning can be guaranteed to strike.
     Still, here I am.

Goodbye Jerry Doyle
Sad to say, Mr Doyle passed away this week.  You (and I) will be more familiar with him as Michael Garibaldi, the no-nonsense Security Chief aboard Babylon 5, with a human touch.  Art?

Those pursed lips pronounce "Don't try me.  Punk"

     Jerry was one of those people who make an abrupt transition from one job to another, utterly different one.  Previously a civilian jet pilot, he then went into stockbroking before becoming an actor, and after B5 ended he kept busy by being a radio talk-show host.  Art?

Proof

I Say, Who's This?
I shall answer my own question, because you'd never get it.  Gordon Corrigan, is who, and by the look of it still in the Army.  Art?

The Major

     Author of "Mud, Blood and Poppycock", a scathing swingeing look at myths and half-truths of the First Unpleasantness, and a worthwhile read.  He also pops up on The History Channel as a talking head on matters military, which makes sense.  Potato growing or butterfly nomenclature, probably not so sensible, but the Army, fine.

Finally -
No summer barbecue is complete without a Dalek Exterior Grill!

Caution; never leave unsupervised (or world conquest a risk)

*  Hideously unfair Teutonic stereotype.  Soz.

How To Scare Cats - The Mark Kermode Way!

Conrad Would Like To Point Out - 
- that no cats or Observer film critics were harmed in the creation of this blog.  Although I didn't seek Mark Kermode's permission to use either his likeness or cat-training regimen, either, so let's just hope he either i)  never reads BOOJUM!* or ii) has a terrific sense of humour.  Hopefully both.
     "What on earth is he going on about now?" I hear you query.  "Really, two hours out of his self-imposed sobriety and he's completely off-the-map."
     Ah, yes, Dry July**.  Excuse me for making a lot of this.  Art?

Ahhhhhh.

     My first beer in thirty thirsty days.  Somehow, Conrad is unsure exactly how this has happened but you probably have those rascals Oscar (his subconscious) and Steve (his memory) to blame, they're usually the ones found holding a box of matches and an empty petrol tin next to the burning orphanage; somehow every third month of the year is now Sober.  Anyway, back to cats.
     Yes, cats!  I am teaching you How To Speak Cat, but we all know what felines are like:  self-willed, capricious and malicious in equal amounts.  Every time I sit down at the kitchen table to enjoy breakfast, who uncurls out of her Cat Igloo but Jenny, eager to spread the responsibility of eating things.  Art?

"How close can I sneak?"

     For your information, that's week-past-it's-sell-by-date yoghurt, mixed with Maple Flavour Syrup, and it was delicious.  Jenny would probably have been repelled by the sweetness of same, yet not before having a good go at it.  Normally a good swat on the nose would - ah, but what's this?
     "Non-Intrusive Cat Deterrence Measures" posted on Youtube by - none other than fellow-Comsat Angels fan Mark Kermode.  Wow.  What a coincidence.  Mark?

"Clap your hands together LOUDLY in close proximity to the cat's ears"

     I can't believe it's that simple and humane.  No barbed wire or napalm involved?

"Nope.  Just hands clapping.  Simple, safe, sure."

     Well, I don't know, Mark.  Sure, you are a - hang on, that background - it looks a trifle familiar.  Art, can you do a bit of research and** -

Suspiciously similar!

     Sorry for the tangent.  Back to cats.
     Where was I?  Oh yes, adrift just off Corto Maltese - whoops, no, sorry, wrong comic.  Mark Kermode, film critic.  Conrad not so sure about his cat repelling methods but what the heck, let's give it a go.  
     "Jenny!"  <Loud clapping noise ensues>
     

!

     Well I never.  Or so I will maintain in court.  Mark, take a bow!

     No, Mark, don't applaud yourself, man, it's not British.  And does Stanley Kubrick know you've nicked one of his sets***?

Because - Science!
I've mentioned Kyle Hill on occasion in the past, and he really had some intelligent input as to why there might be Fast Zombies and Slow Zombies - note the "and" there as his explanation means neither is exclusive.  Today I have to call his video into question, though, as it addresses the question of how quickly zombies would take over the world.  Art?

Ferociously scientific

     Where "S" = "Susceptible", "Z" = "Zombie" and "R" = "Removed".  It's not so simple an equation, and Kyle has adopted what we might call the "Classical Model" where there is no human intervention to minimise S, limit Z and increase R.  The equation above delivers a Basic Reproduction Number that allows epidemiologists to calculate R0, and if this is less than 1.0, the disease will burn out.  This make sense, when you think about it - if a disease is incredibly lethal and deadly and scumbunctious, then everybody infected with it dies on the spot and it doesn't spread.
     On the other hand, if the R0 is greater than 1.0, better find a bunker off in the hills and hideaway ...
     Herein the link:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDL_8MLqIlw

     Of course, I may be overthinking this ...

Not To Turn Into A Mark Kermode Obsessive Or Anything -
This below is the title artwork on his Twitter page.  Art?

Guess the film?

     This is artwork from "Silent Running", a hard sci-fi film with a soft, green, ecological message.  Conrad first saw it back as part of a BBC 2 science fiction season back in the mid-Seventies (where he also saw "Forbidden Planet" and "Dark Star" for the first time) and it's well worth seeing.  Spaceship detailing provided, apparently, by the purchase of hundreds of Panzer tank model kits.

Jan Hus:  Panzers 600 years ahead of time.

*  But Mark, you're missing so much!
**  I ain't going to apologise for banging on about this, nor for changing subject.  It's why people fear yet respect me.
***  "But Stanley is dead!" you say.  Yeah.  That's what they want you to think ...