Doomsday! - Er - Delayed

Sorry To Dash Your Hopes
 - I know a lot of people out there simply thirst for a chance to cast off the trappings of civilisation, enslave the neighbours and declare your own pocket republic; but mind out for those packs of feral dogs.  
     Yes, Doomsday - or "Dommesdag" as they say in Norway - is quite the opportunity for those wishing to thumb their nose at what they like to call "teh gubmint"*. So, having it postponed can be a bit of a downer.
     "What is he banging on about now?" I hear you quaver.  "Surely there can't be any mileage left in 'The Sum Of All Fears'?"
     Hmmm, dunno about that, I'm sure I could squeeze a few more Goofs out of it - but no, this is not about TSOAF, which only approaches Doomdsay without ever getting there.
     No, I refer to that Fifties classic, "When Worlds Collide", because their mathematics don't add up.  Perhaps Art can set the scene?

Fifties sci-fi goodness

     Now, it is true that Conrad is a poisonous old hair-splitting pedant - all my best qualities! - but he does so like to get the facts correct, all the more so when a film boldly makes an assertion.
     Assertion 1)  "The star Bellus has travelled a million miles in two weeks."
     Okay, that makes it verrrrrrrrrrrry slow for an astronomical body.  Under 3,000 miles per hour**.
     Assertion 2)  "They are 3 billion miles away."
     Let me now show you one of the unsung heroes of WWC - the "DA".

No!  Not a District Attorney - a Differential Analyser

     This is a mechanical analogue computer, very very state-of-the-art in 1951.  This, lest you be confused, is the year WWC was released - not just chosen at random.  I do have a method.  You have to make do with a photograph as there isn't enough time to muck around with screenshots uploaded to Google.  The end result of all those cogs and gears is below -

A giant Etch-a-Sketch!

     Where was I?  O yes.  Well, Doctor Hendron boldly announces that there are only 8 months to go before Earth gets turned into a marshmallow by the rogue star Bellus - which is where the maths doesn't add up, because by those figures it would take over a century for Bellus to arrive.
     So - Doomsday, delayed.  I do so like to be - precise.

A Bit More Batter And Butter
Ha!  Sometimes I amuse even me.  Back to 'FattenFilmOrMusic' on Twitter, because I like gloasting about my ability with words.

Yellow Submarine Roll

Journey to the Centre of the Girth

Manos, the Hands of Fat

Frankfurterstein

The Wild Brunch

Escape from LATTE

Escape from New Pork

Deep Fried Purple In Rock

Die Lard

The King's Peach

The Evil Bread

     That makes about 20 in total, and that's all he wrote.  At least until the next inspirational Twitter feed appears ...

Devil dough

Back To Clerihews
You know I like to go with a theme for these, because that takes a tad of the heavy lifting out of creativity.  Ah me yes, the creative process <Mister Hand redacts a lot of self-promoting scrivel where Conrad stands alongside the literary greats> and Dickens.
     So - today we go with - Evil Dictators of Fiction.  Take it away, humble scribe!

Emperor Ming

Liked shaving.

So he kept his head completely bald,

Which kept his brains nicely cold.

Okay, maybe it was Male Pattern Baldness

     Perhaps that explains his chilly and ruthless attitude?  That, or he didn't have enough hugs from Mummy when he was little.

Emperor Palpatine

Is recent in time.

He only appeared in the Eighties;

As a villain, he's one of the laties.

     He's a bit dull, frankly, compared to his killer minion Darth Vader, who has a more imposing voice, better skills with a light-sabre, and a cooler costume.  You can call it a uniform if you wish, it's still a costume.  With a cape.

Khan Noonian Singh

Liked fighting.

So he got stuck in a space freezer,

For being a rambunctious geezer.

     Hmm.  All true, and not even slightly insulting.

The space freezer

I now have to take my leave - there's tea to get et, and studying for an interview tomorrow, and a phone call to see if Pub Quiz is on or not - o the heady social whirl of my life.


*  I'm not mocking them too much, they tend to have lots of guns.
**  None of that metric nonsense here!

Still Banging On And Goofing Off

Yes, We Are Back To Atom Bombs
 - and "The Sum Of All Fears".  Don't whine so, or I'll trot out my monograph on "Forbidden Planet" and that's 5,000 words long.  Without any pictures.
     And yes, we are back to the supposed Goofs for TSOAF over on IMDB.  

The always excellent Liev Schreiber

One person loudly claims that the nuke detonated in Baltimore would need to be 1 megaton yield to inflict the damage it does on the Presidential motorcade; how they "know" this is open to speculation because we have no information on how far the motorcade is from Ground Zero.  Why 1 megaton was chosen is also unclear, except it sounds like a large number.

So is a Googleplex, actually

     Then there is the actual yield of the weapon when detonated.  "A 15 kiloton weapon couldn't inflict that level of damage -" blabs another armchair expert.  At no point is there any official confirmation of what the explosive yield was - we only ever hear this quoted yield on a news broadcast, and I don't trust some primped-up plastic preener to correctly estimate the yield of a nuclear detonation when their primary skill is reading an autocue.
     There!  I feel much better having gotten that out of the way.  Are you certain you don't want that "Forbidden Planet" monograph - okay, okay.
     Intro out of the way, let the motley wobble forward on it's safety-trike!

Motley, meet trike

Mucking About With Words
If you have been reading this blog with any regularity - and you ought to, because it's the only thing that'll save your descendants when my invasion force gets here - then you will be aware that Conrad delights in messing about with the English language.  The Cryptic Crossword, Codewords, Alphamuddle and BOOJUM! itself are all evidence.
     So, last night when I came across a Twitter feed entitled "FatteningFilmsAndMusic", it was too much temptation and I vented my creative energies.
     "Tell us what you wrote!  Tell us, O mighty word mage!" I hear you calling, and pausing only to wonder if that's sarcasm or sincerity, I shall.

Doctor Strangelove: Or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Learned To Love The Chocolate Bombe

Blue Oyster Plate Special Cult

Saturday Night's Alright For Biting

The Lamb Kebab Lies Down On Broadway

Red Planet Mars Bar

Despicable Meat

Bring Me The Bread Of Alfredo Garcia

     There are more, but I feel merciful and shall spare you any further torture for today.

Sometimes I amuse even me

      - hang on, just got to check and see that - yes, phew, Ben Folds is still alive -

The Student In It's Natural Habitat
Here I would normally add in a stern warning about you regularly reading BOOJUM! but I've already done that.  Anyway, last Friday I - eventually - got to view Darling Daughter's swanky new apartment in the far south of Manchester, ironically in the district of Northenden.

The merry metropolis of Manchester

     I say "eventually" because I got stuck in traffic on the M60 for over forty minutes, crawling along at 22 m.p.h. before getting lost in Wythenshawe, thanks to a set of useless directions I'd written down.
     I've checked and DD is fine with these illustrations going up on the blog; for any burglars out there, BEWARE! for we have loaned her the Guard Hog for a couple of weeks*.  Art?

The kitchen
(Obv really - I mean, electrical appliances in a bathroom?)

     Then there was the bed frame, which I'd brought in the car -

So I felt a sense of achievement, at least

     That's the bedroom visible through there.  We also supplied a new mattress, because comfort is important in a bed.     
     Then we have the soon-to-be workshop with a wall cupboard -

Artisan jewellery ahoy

     And the lounge.  

Probably the tidiest it will ever be

     Don't worry about DD getting upset about my horrid captioning, she never reads the blog anyway**.
     It's quite awkward to get to, actually, going by a couple of motorways and Princess Parkway, but handy for Tom and his work with Dangerous Chemicals.
     There you go, Conrad now feels like an estate agent.

Now, about that 5,000 word monograph - I can put up a precis of only 500 words if you'd like -

Finally -
Remember!  The weasel is your friend!

So tying one to a stick - even if it is rabid - is a BAD THING!

* He was a stunt double in "Razorback" and "Hannibal" you know
**  The pain I feel, the pain!