More Of Mars

In The Sense Of War

Rather than astronomy.  And once again, nothing to do with chocolate.

     Here a seasonal aside.  Three of my compatriots at work, an Italian, a Pole and a Latvian, all describe the British Easter-time obsession with chocolate eggs as bizarre and (of course!) foreign.  Conrad is not big on chocolate and can thus ignore the average Easter egg quite easily, although he does miss the incredibly cloyingly wonderfully sickly sweet sugary goodness of a Creme egg <pauses to wipe drool from chin>.*

I hope you appreciate this image, because it's TORMENTING me.*

     Where was I?  Oh yes, "The Battle of Britain" film.  The featurette about the making of the film is jolly interesting, and so is the one about going for accuracy in the skies - we may come back to that latter.  Okay, cast yer glazzies across this image.  Art?

     A scene of utter devastation as the Luftwaffe rains down bombs upon London - or so you are supposed to think.  In fact this was part of London's East End slum housing, which the Greater London Council were going to demolish to make way for squeaky-clean housing blocks and deck-access housing.  Getting wind of this, TBOB's production team obtained permission to get in there first and do some artistic demolition of their own.  Art?

Real fires

     This reflects filming done in 'The Bridge At Remagen', where a Czech town was about to be demolished to make way for an open-cast mine; the Czech authorities were quite happy for Hollywood to blow up or burn down swathes of the place - saved them a job later!

Shoreditch: blitzed by bulldozers not bombs

     And I'm still missing those Creme Eggs, thanks for asking.

     Okay, enough blather about urban regeneration, time to move on and hurl the motley headlong into a cement mixer!**

Herein A Pun

Perhaps.  Conrad - and hopefully yourselves - is resigned to the fact that his mind does not work the same way as humans Hom. Sap. you lot out there. Whether this is a good thing or not is a matter of perspective.

     So!  I've been staring at this one for many months now.  It may just be me, but the juxtaposition struck me as interesting and possibly amusing.  Art?

     At this range the colour contrast is greater than at normal viewing distance, from where it reads, because we normally read from left to right, "IRON CAPTAIN" and "MAN <watermelonwatermelon>AMERICA".  That latter might well be "MAN OF AMERICA" mightn't it?  Yes, it might.  Don't argue, it's my blog.

MINE!

     Not sure if they'd have much mileage as superheroes.  "Iron Captain" sounds more like a villain, to be honest, one who could be overcome by rust, too.  Don't come back with "Ooh, ooh, he could oil himself to combat oxidation!" because then he'd be "WELL-OILED IRON CAPTAIN" - I did a theme several years ago why it is a SPECTACULARLY bad idea for anyone with superpowers to get drunk.

Oh dear.  Please, nobody provoke him.

     Whereas "Man of America" sounds dull.  I mean, what makes him different from 150 million other South Canadians?

The Apricot That Was Not Hot

Although it was.  Sorry if this is confusing, because if you want common sense and logic and a linear train of thought, then you are most definitely in the wrong place.

     Here an aside.  I remember seeing a poster for a couple of bands playing The Hunting Lodge in Manchester several decades ago, which read "Stockholm Beach" and "Monsters Red".  Well, I went to see them play.  It turned out that they were getting extremely fed up about the audience asking when Stockholm Beach were playing, because the two bands were Stockholm Monsters and Beach Red.

Oh well.

     Back to the apricots.  I selected a recipe from The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook, that being "Apricot Crunchies".  Things were not going well from the off.  I soaked the apricots, dates and sultanas, as I usually do, only to find that the recipe requires one to soak them in orange juice, which I did as well.  The ingredients did not 'rub in' properly and result in a crumby mixture; they ended up in a single great big lump.  When the whole thing came out of the oven I let it cool in the tin overnight, meaning the end result was far too soggy.  Art?

     Now you know why they weren't hot.  So, I put them back in the oven, upside down, for another half an hour.  They are a lot firmer and drier now, although looking rather frazzled around the edges - Gas Mark 5 which is why they were hot - but simply not good enough to take into work.  I can't eat them all myself,* so Degsy is going to have to step forward.

     Eating cake.  A dirty job, but someone's got to do it.

Don't forget - sharks are our friends!  Because you can rely on them to eat all the KILLER EELS!

Friendly shark say 'hello!'

*  Thank you, diabetes.  THANK YOU SO MUCH!

**  Absent cement.

More Of Mercury

No!  Not The Planet
It's not really that interesting, being a piece of planetary real estate excessively close to the sun, embodying the phrase "hot rock".  Nor do I mean that prancing popinjay Freddy, who fronted some band or other once upon a time.
     No!  I mean the element Mercury, Hg, which (when refined) is the only metal which is liquid at room temperature.  Art?

Treat with caution

     You used to be able to carry out all sorts of interesting tricks with it, as I recall from school, when our Physics teacher used to routinely seal the end of a test tube of mercury with his finger.
     Not something you can do nowadays, not since mercury has been recognised as extremely dangerous.  There are various compounds made from mercury that make the liquid metal look relatively safe in comparison.  Such as Dimethyl Mercury.  This stuff is able to penetrate protective rubber gloves within seconds, and will kill you to death up to ten months later.  

Not good enough

          Let us now abruptly change subject to - the artist Joan Miro!  Conrad likes his art, because it is strange and entertaining.  I know it scares Art - which is another reason to like it - so I shall have to locate a picture myself.

Groovy.  Or freaky.  Or both.

     I think this one is "Evening Star" but don't write in to correct if I'm wrong because being ignored can disappoint.   Anyway, there is a museum and art building called the "Fundacio Joan Miro" in Spain, which houses an installation designed by the South Canadian Mr. Alex Calder.  Art?

Presto.  And yes, it is what you think it is.

     This is a fountain that uses mercury instead of water.
     It was created in 1937, so you can excuse them for thinking that mercury was merely pretty to look at, rather than being so toxic that it needs to be kept behind a protective glass casing, which is how it stands now.  Once a fortnight a cleaner in a hazmat suit goes in to get rid of dust, hair and other detritus that would otherwise make the mercury look less pretty.
     Nor is this a one-off.  Mercury fountains were a thing during the Moorish occupation of Spain; due to the presence of very high-yield cinnabar ore, which contains mercury.

Mike Mercury!

     I think that's enough of toxic terror tropes for the moment.  And to think all this came from a throwaway remark about hurling the motley into a pool of liquid mercury!
     Today we shall hurl the motley into a pool of 1" ball bearings and see what happpens!

Back To The Battle
The " The Battle of Britain" in filmic form, again, because I was watching a featurette entitled "The Battle for the Battle of Britain", which threw up some interesting snippets of information.  Whilst being shot in Spain, Guy Hamilton (the film's director) put out a casting call for Spanish extras.  They needed to be present for a scene being shot in a small harbour, which was dressed to look like an invasion port on the French coast.  Art?

Thus

      Guy broke down the process of getting extras.  He explained that they would select 200, on the basis that only 100 of these would actually turn up, and this would be whittled down to 50 who looked appropriately Teutonic and who could march in formation and fitted their uniforms well.  Of these, a mere 5 would be photogenic enough to be in the foreground of shots.

      Nor was that all.  Oh no!  The harbour, as I said, had been dressed to look like an invasion port, with barges and anti-aircraft guns and dozens of extras clad in Teuton uniforms.  Thus, when an unsuspecting trawler returned at the end of the day, they found the scene somewhat - unexpected.

Going astern

     Not quite knowing what was going on, and doubtless seeing a whole lot of guns, they began to go astern, before fleeing precipitately.  Art?

There they go

     We shall come back to TBOB, the film that keeps on giving.  Whether you like it or not is immaterial - after all, whose blog is it?

Finally -
Say hello to the Mariner Valley on Mars.  Art?

Mariner Valley

     I include this because I've just finished "Babylon's Ashes" (you know, from 'The Expanse' series), and Alex Kamal, pilot of the "Rocinante", hails from Mariner Valley.  He speaks with a drawl definitive of that region.
     Just for your information.

     Well, time to go get some of that food stuff.

You Know How I Feel -

About The KILLER EEL!
Worried, frankly, is how I feel.  They doubtless harbour a millenia-long grudge against humans because you we turned them into jellied versions and then ate them, although having tried jellied eel once I am not in any hurry to repeat the experiment.  Art?

Large.  So you can get the full flavour.

     Probably as delicious as lutefisk is.  Not only that, there are so many different varieties of eels out there, simply thirsting (can a fish be thirsty?) to do you us in, and in the most gruesome way possible.  Art?

The warm-up

     After this one had bitten off a delicious fresh calamari tentacle, the octopus got away. Feeling cheated, hungry and aggressive, the eel then went for the cameraman, who rapidly learned that you can swim backwards underwater.  Nor is this all.  O no!  Art?

A Lamprey

     This thing is basically a swimming set of teeth with an appetite attached.  They are only supposed to attack you humans if starving, which you can believe if you wish.  Me, I'd rather assume they are starving by default and give them a wide berth.  After all, they are merely one of a subset of KILLER EELS!
     Now that we are up to speed on the perils of suddenly finding a moray in your bathtub, I think we can progress.  Let's see what happens when you drop the motley into a swimming pool filled with liquid mercury!

As One Thing Follows Another ...
There I was, looking for an image where there was a swimming pool full of liquid mercury, or even a bathtub, and could I find one?  I could not!
     There are a few reasons for this.  First off, mercury is pricey, about £15 per pint.  Given that a large backyard pool would contain about, 400,000 pints, that means filling it would cost you well over £6 million.

Or this, 6 times over

     A bathtub would be much easier to fill, yet it would still cost you about £2,200 (for a 140 pint capacity bath tub), so nothing to sniff at, either.  The real problem would be mass, since you're talking nearly a ton of mercury in that bath and if it's on the second floor, as with most houses here in the Pond of Eden -

Where it was!

     I think you're swimming pool would need specially-reinforced walls and bottom, because it's going to be holding over 2,500 tons of the silver liquid.

"The Great Martian War 1913 - 1917"
Conrad had not heard of this film until it was suggested by Degsy (he knows me so well), and a worthwhile recommendation it was, too.  It was done as mockumentary by the History Channel back in 2013, when they still made the occasional proper program.
     The central premise is that the War of the Worlds, as envisaged by HG Wells, takes place in 1913 directly before the outbreak of the First Unpleasantness.  

Thus

     So, instead of being beastly to each other, humans must band together to fight the eeeevil alien invaders, who have landed by missile from Mars.  There are several different types of Martian war-machine in operation.  Which see - Art?

A 'Heron' in the background, an 'Iron Spider' in the foreground

     It's rather well done, although they do mix and match the authentic clips a bit so that weapons from much later in the real thing end up being used in 1914.  A minor quibble, anyway, and the whole thing is a really interesting conceit.
     Just you wait.  In one hundred year's time some swivel-eye conspiranoid loonwaffle will dig this film up and loudly proclaim "See!  See!  This is what really happened in 1913!"

A Moment's Silence, Please -
For the late Ken Dodd.  I may be jumping the gun a little here, but nobody's come out with horrid allegations about him whilst he was alive, nor in the days since he ambled off this mortal coil.  Art?

Underplayed and restrained
(for him, anyway)

     One of his signature rhetorical openings was to begin an humourous aphorism by saying "By Jove, Missus -" and then leading into something spectacularly silly.  I mention this because 'Jove' is an alternative name for 'Jupiter', meaning the Big Dog in Roman mythology, and the largest planet in the Solar System.  Art?

Featuring the Great Red Spot

     After all, if we've already had Mars, and Mercury, why not Jupiter?