Bit Out Of Hell

We Aren't Experiencing This At Present -
 - but after walking Edna tonight I'd be quite happy for just such a small piece of Hades to be relocated, say about 150 yards further down Tandle Hill Road, far enough away not to be a fire risk, close enough to ensure that diligent dog-walkers are able to feel the tips of their fingers after the event - which was not the case for me tonight.  And it wasn't even windy.  Quite what conditions will be like when that least likeable of Ruffian exports, a howling wind from Siberia, comes to town is a worrying prospect.

Yeah!  Exactly like that.  Tormented souls an optional extra?

     Here an aside.  You know that iconic cover picture to "Bat Out of Hell"?  Well, it was painted by the comics legend Richard Corben, who was a frequent contributor to the pages of 'Heavy Metal'.  I can't post much of his stuff here as it tends to be NSFW (his heroes and heroines are clothing-averse), but here is a taster.  Art?  Art!

Erm - not entirely sure what's going on here.  Competitive knitting match?

     Well, now that's over, I hope you didn't think I'd cheapen myself by throwing in the cover to BOOH, in the hopes of attracting more traffic.  Instead I shall distract you by putting the motley in a cement mixer with a handful of scorpions!*

What's This?  The BBC And The Coincidence Hydra Together?
I shall add-in the Beeb stuff first, because this is another of those items that caught my eye during the day which had to be left in abeyance.  Time, don't you know.

Hmmmm.

     Apparently a team of international scientists have determined that the Yeti - shock horror SPOILERS AHEAD!!!** - does not exist.
     O Rly?  What next - water is wet, the Pope is a Catholic and the charge on an electron is a stable constant the universe over?
     Conrad is not really surprised.  All that has been produced as evidence has been proven to be fake or bits of bears.  Have a look at the Beeb article:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/article/42167489/its-official-scientists-conclude-there-is-no-such-thing-as-the-yeti

     Don't forget, if the Yeti did exist there would need to be a substantial population of them, NOT A SINGLE SPECIMEN all on it's own.  There would be adults and offspring, spoor***, tracks, resting places or nests, fur remnants, skeletons, evidence of grazing, stuff like that.  You know - proof!

The "Gwangi" Effect
Here's a thing.

     No, Art, no!  I mean, here's a thing in the analogy sense.  There is a trope of corny old sci-fi films, especially those cheap-ass ones from the Fifties in black and white, where the protagonists are threatened  by a monster, singular.  The Creature, one of whom came from the Black Lagoon, for example.  There was another that crept along, being known as the Electrically-Gliding - no, sorry, I got confused - being known as the Creeping Terror.
     The reason for these being solo is down to cost - after all, a Robot Monster doesn't come cheap!^  And a profound lack of knowledge about animal husbandry and sustainable population levels.
     For Conrad, the most iconic example of this is "The Valley of Gwangi", and if we throw rocks at Art he may oblige -

Thanks, Art.  Here, have some salve.

     This spectacularly daft film follows a band of cowboys who travel to Mexico and the Valley of Gwangi, because there's a monster there they can lasso and put on display at the circus.  "Monster" singular, as there's only one T-Rex present.  The last of it's species, incidentally, as it has no mate.  See what I mean about animal husbandry?  How did it ever come to exist if there are no others?  The Gwangi Effect in full play.
     Also, it seems a bit puny when pitted against modern-day firearms.  A Nitro-Express elephant gun would knock it back on it's heels, no question.

More hmmm.

     At one point a cowboy is surprised by Ol' Gwang sneaking up behind him.  One wonders how a multi-ton monster that makes the earth shake can 'sneak'; perhaps there was an excised line in the script?  Also, South Canadian cowboys have no history of attending panto, as an English cowboy would always be aware that 'IT'S BEHIND YOU!'
     Somewhat confusingly, the circus involved is also promoting an Eohippus (prehistoric ancestor of the horse) as "El Diablo", which is Spanish for Ol' Nick.  How this comparison comes about is beyond me.  Perhaps Art can illustrate an Eohippius for us -

More imp than Devil, one feels

     RUN!  FLEE! SAVE YOURSELVES FROM THE TERROR OF EL DIABLO!
     Or not.




*  Don't worry, motleys have very thick skin.
**  I realise this is very nearly Continental levels of hysteria, and I apologise, it's just that some people's sacred cows cryptozoological specimens have stature.
***  A polite way of saying "dung"
^  Actually it does.  But I like to be contrary.

The Beachy Boys

Damn You, BBC, Damn You!
Why oh why does the Beeb's website always have a number of interesting articles first thing in the morning when your humble scribe is in a rush, and cannot spend time on them?  Today is no different - here's an article on the Norks boasting about how their Ding Dong missiles can reach as many as - and there's no time.
     Bah!
     Fortunately, here's one I prepared earlier.  "How do you build a lighthouse?" a question we must have all asked ourselves at one time or another.  Or is it just me?
     The article springs from the auction of a set of photographs that show the construction of the Beachy Head lighthouse between 1900 and 1902.  Here is a very interesting sample of same.  Art?

   As you can see, an iron platform has been erected next to the lighthouse, to facilitate construction; more stable and robust than a ship, in the circumstances.  This is where the workers and supplies would be winched down to from the cliff-top.
     Also visible is one of the granite blocks used to actually build the lighthouse, which were numbered in order to ensure they got assembled in the right order.
     Most importantly of all is what I instantly recognised as a "coffer dam", the keyhole-shaped structure surrounding the lighthouse foundations. This is to keep the sea at bay (ha!  Do you see - O you do) and protect the workers.

Literally, beavering away

     Scale makes the dam seem a little insubstantial, so I thought we'd wake Art with a hot coal and make him work -
     Actually quite hefty, wouldn't you say?  And there are the Beachy Boys, hard at work.  Which brings us to the end of this Intro, so it's time to send the motley between ships in a Breeches Buoy!*

Duck, You Punk - It's Flying Space Junk!
Another Beeb teaser that I couldn't concentrate on because of time restraints.  Space junk sounds like a bad Seventies funk act, when it's actually a serious issue of concern to rocketry experts, and eventually you and I.  The thing is, you see, that even very small objects in orbit are normally travelling at very high speeds, which means that the terminal velocity of an impact between a bolt and the ISS can be horrendously high.**
     Here an aside.  I remember reading a story illustrated by Trev Goring in 2000AD, about an unglamourous orbital junk-disposal spaceship, which whizzed off orbital rubbish to the Disposal Zone.  Our hero inadvertently whizzed off an alien directional device that was allowing their invasion fleet to home in on target Earth, so the invasion fleet blithely followed it into the Disposal Zone.  Which was the Sun.***

Proof!

     Back to Beeby.  They reported that there is a new satellite about to be launched, that will deploy a variety of Space Hoover, testing new technologies to collect up space junk before we get snowed in by the stuff.  Various  nets and harpoons, it seems, will be used.
     I see a niche here for the Hoover of the Seas (a.k.a. the shark) to work up some positive publicity!

Well - not quite what I had in mind ...

Danger - Replicators!
If you are unaware of these handy devices, they inhabit the starship 'Enterprise' of the 24th Century, and apparently have the ability to create anything at a verbal request.  Normally we see this restricted to "Tea, Earl Grey, hot," ordered by Captain Thespian.  No!  Sorry, Captain Picard.  Picard.  Get it right, Conrad.
     Now, as I mentioned yesterday, I am both creative and evil, and my imagination immediately began to wonder what mischief, if not outright mayhem, one could manage with a replicator.
     "Replicator - a kilogram of Californium, pronto!" might work, except I'm not sure what the critical mass for Cf98 is - maybe "Replicator - one hundred grams of Californium, pronto!" as a safety measure.  Also, avoid requesting "Plutonium - twelve kilograms of, pronto!" since I know what the critical mass of Pu94 is - 11 kilograms.  You'd not get a chance to discover your error with a replication request like that.
     "But Conrad, there are bound to be safeguards built in," I hear you object.
     Well, yeah, some interfering piker is always around to spoil your fun. 

Conrad Is Happy
Or as happy as I get.  Can we prod Art into consciousness long enough to get a picture?

Positively uproarious

     I am happy because I remembered that a key character from a long-forgotten work of fiction was named "Rickenharp", whereas last week I was looking him up under "Rickenbacker" and getting lots of hits about a South Canadian pilot of the First Unpleasantness.
     So!  I discovered that the novel in question, a dystopian sci-fi work, is called "Eclipse" and is by John Shirley.  I realise this is not exactly world-shaking information, but it settles a nagging gripe of mine about the title and author.^




*  This doesn't sound bad, but there are sharks.  Hungry sharks.
**  No mention of nuts.  That would be cheap humour.
***  Not a mistake I'm going to make.
^  Or - is it a griping nag?  Only you can decide!