Dangerous Vizions

Don't Forget, Folks, Conrad Says Exactly What He Means
Not only that, he is a treacherous and untrustworthy character, who will shamelessly prostitute the talents of others (not to mention pictures of cute animals) in order to promote BOOJUM!  

Er - some animals cuter than others ...

     For example, with that title you were no doubt expecting a rant or thumbs-up on that seminal collection of science-fiction short stories "Dangerous Visions" by Ol' Harlan.
     HA!
     Instead I give you "Vietnam Initiative on Zoonotic InfectiONS" - here's a link to prove that your deceitful driveller is not merely throwing word-salad at you -

http://www.sanger.ac.uk/science/collaboration/wt-vizions

     "Bah.  Hardly dangerous," I hear you sneer.
     Hardly dangerous?  Recall, if you will, the film "Contagion", because that's what could, potentially, come screaming out of the five-level jungle canopies of Vietnam.  Dangerous.

So, This Harlan Character?
Not, gentle reader, to be confused with Jan Harlan, long time film associate of Stanley Kubrick, not yet Viet Harlan, Nazi-era film director; instead I refer to the author - NO!  not Harlan Coben - Harlan Ellison.  The science-fiction chap.  Wrote "Demon With A Glass Hand" for The Outer Limits.  Oh, and "City On The Edge Of Forever" for that Star Trek nonsense, too.  Art?

When he was young and dangerous

     More pertinently, he is also responsible for "All The Sounds Of Fear", which I pinched for this week's title "All The Sounds Of Gear".  Art?

Proof it exists.

     And that was going to be pretty much for the Intro, as sufficient proof of how clever I (think I) am, except your humble scribe was unable to just leave it at that.  "Dangerous Visions" was a controversial collection of short stories that came out in 1967, and I've read some of the stories in other anthologies if not the collection itself.  Doubtless all about sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll, the classic trifecta that your parents warned about, and the first two are way beyond the remit of BOOJUM! (unless they are commercial pharmaceuticals dispensed on a functional diagnosis, by a properly licenced physician).
     "Eh what?" I hear you query.
     A Doctor.  Drugs as prescribed by a Doctor.
     "Eh?  Which Doctor?"
     No, no, you've got the wrong relative pronoun!  It should be "Doctor Who?"
     "Ah!  I see!  We're back to Dangerous VIZIONS - a Doctor from the World Health Organisation?"
     - I think I've been clever enough for long enough.

How to scare cats - the Jan Harlan way!

Bela Lugosi's Dead.  Or Is He?  And - How Do You Tell?
Inspired by a track ("Bela Lugosi", obviously - "White Pulse " would have been odd) on John Carpenter's "Lost Themes II", and also by Bauhaus, and by reality.  Dear Bela, to steal a phrase from Annette Peacock, towards the end of his life was unable to get a buzz from mere beer or indeed alcohol.  This, presumably, is because his liver had gone on strike over being worked to excess.  Thus Bela sought oblivion in the arms of - formaldehyde, wasn't it?  Yes, the horribly smelly stuff that science labs and museums use to preserve organic specimens.  So he did get <pause for appreciative sneers> pickled, in a way.
     Plus, how do you know he's dead?
     "He's not moving!" - no, because he's in a formaldehyde-fuelled stupor*.
      "He's not breathing!" - as Lord of the Undead he doesn't need air.
     "He's going rotten!" - no, he's just not had his daily shower, and if there's one thing formaldehyde does, it stops things going rotten.

How to scare cats - the Bela Lugosi way!

Anchovies
On Thursday Conrad bought some tinned sardines and then, for the sheer exuberant heck of it, a tin of anchovies.  It is several years since I last remember eating anchovies, for reasons which will become clear.
     If you want to replicate the taste and texture of eating anchovies, marinate a matchstick in brine for a week.  Dry it out.  Shred it.  Mix it in with a pile of salt.  
     Eat.  

Anchovies: the secret truth

     Oh, you might want to add a bit of engine oil to lubricate the whole sorry mess.
     Now, since I have the blog as a material witness, I don't have to wonder about anchovies again, as I shall surely never let them cross my mouth again.

OH NOES!  Two Bulbs Gone!
Conrad occasionally wonders how they replace bulbs from the interior lighting of the Electric Goldfish Bowl, since these are five stories above ground level and would require either an excessively long ladder or the world's smallest helicopter to replace.  Art?

Two down!  Not merely one but TWO!

     Or - since I've never seen them being replaced - teleportation by the Facilities staff, who need to keep their awesome superpowers under wraps?


*  I have no idea if such a thing exists and am far too squeamish to find out