Hail 1917! Sorry - 2017

Got A Bit Confused There*
Let us set off without ado.  "The Flintstones" - the animated series, not the <shudder> live action films - remember them?  Oh, they were a hoot.  Of course, they eschewed historical realism by having Hom. Sap. living alongside dinosaurs, but we can forgive such a classic a minor faux pas like this.
     What I would like to direct your attention to is that staple of the Bedrock household, the record player.  Art?

Every home should have one

     Note that this is not the modern medium of a plastic disk read by a laser beam, although I am told that the reproduction via hummingbird beak is surprisingly faithful.
     "Yes, but what has this to do with anything?" I hear you ask.  "I mean, prehistoric long players?"
     Surprisingly, the following is relevant:

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     Yes, vinyl is back in fashion, although typically we aren't going to be satisfied with simply remaining there, as vinyl records didn't come into widespread used until the 1950's, and we're going for the 1917 vibe here.  You see, before vinyl there was SHELLAC!
     Yes, shellac records would have been the very cutting edge of technology in 1917.  I am going to pre-empt your next question by informing you that these records were only one-third shellac, the rest being <ahem> mineral filler - better known to you or I as rock**.  Finely ground, yes, but still rock.
     I refer you back to the Flintstones.

Further To The Party
Karen was describing her fondness for mucking around with words, a subject dear to the fusion-powered pumping unit that serves your humble scribe as his heart.  Crosswords, obviously, and also an on-line version of "Scrabble".  You can't call it Scrabble, of course, nor any ridiculously close pretender such as Skrabbel or Screablb, otherwise legal folks come out of the shadows and beat you over the head until all the money falls out of your pockrts.  So, this variant is called "Words With Friends", a game Conrad had never heard of before; given his propensity for untrammeled litigious disputation - why no, actually I've stopped reading Dickens, this is all my own work - I'm not sure how Friendly I would be.  "YES  YES!  'Zebu' is a proper word!  And so is 'Szygy' not to mention 'Quincunx'!" ad nauseum.  Anyway, as mentioned, a game unfamiliar to your humble scribe.
     Excep what's this?  Phil Plait, the Bad Astronomer himself, bringing it up in a sly dig at people mis-spelling "Rogue".
     

The evidence

     An X-man red in tooth and claw ...
     Well, It seems that the Coincidence Hydra has bitten once again.
The Coincidence Hydra
For those who are new, this unlovely creature rears it's ugly head every so often, with the express aim of sinking it's fangs into the more tender parts of your modest artisan's anatomy.  One cannot predict when it will sally forth; it used to be restricted to those times when I was reading Thomas Pynchon, yet now it seems to be lurking around every corner, sly and irresistible, just waiting to be invoked for murder - Oops!  No, sorry, I'm quoting "Forbidden Planet" there.

Believe me, a set of these in your rump is no fun.

The Death Of Ass
No!  I am not referring to the collective gnawing upon my Gluteus Maximus by the monster above, although your kindly concern is noted.  No, instead I refer to an international conspiracy that has reared it's ugly head - only one at least, unlike the hydra - in order to force penance and suffering upon you the public.  Art?

Well really!

     This is clearly - CLEARLY! - a claim put forward by the International Psychiatric Collective of Evil, Inc. who are masquerading as dentists and recommending, of all things, that our office culture better itself by giving up cake.
     I postulate that this grotesquely inappropriate measure has been put forward by these mind-mappers in disguise, as the more dismal reaches of the open-plans across this fair realm are only made more tolerable by cake consumed alongside a cuppa.
     Picture, if you will, the sheer mordant miasma of misery that would befall us if we were deprived of CAKE AT WORK.  Too horrifying to use an exclamation mark against.

Conrad, looking horrified.  Honest.

Life-affirming, mate, life-affirming

     The dentists wouldn't really be happy, as this measure would mean less work for them, but O My! those psychiatrists would be enamoured.  Imagine all the incipient breakdowns narrowly averted by inhaling a chunk of Baileys and Malteser Cake alongside a cuppa of Loose Leaf Darjeeling.  If you have nothing to look forward to of a Friday morning ...


*  Not uncommon at my age
** Do you see what I did there?