The Word Absurd

No, We Are Not Talking About The Word 'Absurd'
Don't you recognise a metaphor when you see one?  Perhaps I should have stuck a comma in there.
     Anyway, back to one of Conrad's favourite films, "Forbidden Planet", and I still have that 5,000 word monologue on the effect it has had on subsequent - no?  You don't want to hear it?  Maybe later?  No, not in ten thousand years of torrid tortured torment?  Well, if you stop being coy, let me know.

My monologue amounts to 5 of these

     Let me recap a little.  In the film, when Earth catches up with Altair IV*, we learn that Doctor Morbius* was included on the expedition to this planet, and that he was a philologist.
     Right.  A philologist.  Morbius* himself confirms that he studies words and languages in terms of meaning and origin, which is fine in and of itself.  Why, we even dabble a little in this field here on the blog with our occasional analyses of unusual words. 
     HOWEVER! written in letters sixty feet tall,** is this a discipline you really want or need when planning the exploration of an alien planet?  Biologists, entemologists, geologists, meteorologists, biochemists - yes.  Management consultants, fashion gurus, lithium-wafer battery designers and philologists - no.

Lithium wafers - a real thing.

     After all, you'd only need a philologist if you were going to encounter an alien civilisation, and the Bellerophon**expedition didn't know that.
     Or did they?  Is it possible that they did know about the Krell* and their legacy?  In which case they were not simply curious scientists, they were all but criminal conspirators.
     Of course, I may be overthinking this ...

And probably am.  Altair in the scheme of things

     Now to strap the motley into a car with one wheel removed and no brakes!

Pinning For The Fjords
That frickin' Coincidence Hydra is back again, nibbling at my nethers. I did mutter about cotter pins back on the 11th February, because I'm pretty sure they are used to secure Blair in the spare parts shed in the short story "Who Goes There" by Don A. Stuart, which was a pseudonym used by epic sci-fi editor John W. Campbell, based on his wife's maiden name, Donna Stuart -

- but I digress

     Well, nothing unusual there. 
     Anyway, there I was, watching Ian McCullom of "Forgotten Weapons" dis-assembling a K1A1, and after he'd opened up the receiver, he takes out the bolt assembly, and what does he take out to remove the bolt itself?

A Cotter pin

     One of these.  I've never noticed him mention a cotter pin before, and I've seen dozens of weapons being dis-assembled.  And, since we're on the subject, here's a K1A1.  Art?

     There you go, the product of traditional Korean craftsmanship.  Do you want the technical details of the K1A1?  because it's either that or my Forbidden Planet monograph - neither?  Because you've had molten lead poured into your ears?  Well, strange fashion fads around these days.  Next!


ATTACK OF THE GIANT - Ostriches?
As a consequence of watching a whole series of Fifties sci-fi films featuring greatly-enlarged critters - spiders, space buzzards, mantises, ants, scorpions, crabs and weasels - Conrad's mind wandered, as it frequently does.***
     "These are all products of the Hollywood entertainment industry, coming out of South Canada,"  which is undeniable.  "Why don't/didn't other countries produce a similar canon?"
     There are a couple of exceptions that enhance the ruling.  "Reptilicus", for one, which is Danish.  Art?

Quiver in fear!  Or derision.  Your choice.

     It is not a brilliant film, although if you want to see more Madsen machine-guns than you ever realised existed (Ian McCullom I am looking at you), then go right ahead and watch it.  The sole entry that Perfidious Albion made (that I recall) was "Gorgo".  Art?

A wildly ambiguous title

     This was a man in a rubber suit rather than a barely-animated puppet, and it ends with most of London getting laid waste (laughs cruelly at southern jessies suffering misfortune), the army being utterly ineffectual in stopping either Gorgo or his mum - who is the beastie present in the poster above.
     Now, what about the Sinisters or the Ruffians?  Doubtless during the Sinister era if Mosfilm had proposed a film where a monster bear rampages through the streets of Moscow, slaughtering the citizenry, until stopped by the firepower of the Red Army, those doing the proposing would have been rapidly decorating the inside of a padded cell, pumped full of groovy drugs.
     You'd think.  However -
     Enter Mikhail Bulgakov, author of both "The White Guard" and "The Master and Margarita", both of which your humble scribe has read and which are worth a bother. 

From TMAM

     He also wrote "The Fatal Eggs", a semi-satirical sci-fi novel that ends up with hordes of mindlessly aggressive giant crocodiles, snakes and ostriches running rampant across Ruffia.

Yeah!

     Now, bear in mind that both TMAM and TWG have been televised and filmed and your humble scribe believes it's only a matter of time before we get GIANT KILLER OSTRICHES! with a gloomy Ruffian slant.

Well now, there's not really room enough nor time to add in the scurrilous little verse I composed about Edna Wunderhund, and her squeaky toy bone.  Which is fine, as it will definitely get me into trouble with Wonder Wifey.







*  No, I'm not explaining.  Go watch the film.
**  None of that metric nonsense here.  And yes the height has increased since last time.  Inflation.
***  Okay, I was lying about the weasels.