But this evening, out of sheer perversity, I am going to try and avoid using ANY exclamation marks, which, given that they are usually sprinkled liberally throughout BOOJUM! is going to take a bit of self-restraint. I left that one on at the end of the blog's title because it's part of the scenery.
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| This will do instead of an exclamation mark, won't it? |
Whom is not to be confused with Agaton Sax, as illustrated by Quentin Blake. Art?
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| Thus |
Where was I?
O that was it - unanswerable questions, answered. Yes, I refer to - actually, did you know that the Agaton Sax novels were the most popular Scandinavian literature here in the Pond of Eden for over 50 years? For children, of course, because adults are rather precious about Scandi-lit -
Where was I?
O yes. I refer to that Gerry Anderson Youtube channel and their post about supposedly "Unanswerable questions". As if! Ten seconds and a dash of imagination is enough to provide credible solutions. Art?
How often? As often as needed to give the impression of an aristocrat having trouble making ends meet financially. It's also a double-bluff: would you really expect a top-secret agent working for a private individual, whose abode and car are crammed with state-of-the-art gadgets, to allow the great inquisitive public to poke around her mansion?
Okay, Art?
Recapping again: "How does Scott lug his mobile control unit from Thunderbird 1 to the danger zone?"
Answer 1: It's modular, you bafoons. It breaks down into a dozen sub-units that can easily be carried by one man (Scott) from TB1 to the danger zone.
Answer 2: Volunteer carriers, for which see Answer 1
Answer 3: A telescopic carrying arm that extends from TB1's payload bay.
There you go, and all done without a single exclamation mark.
A Little Musical Critique
Okay, I think this will be the last time we venture forth to analyse the lyrics to Turin Brakes "Painkiller" because they insist on blowing people's brains out. Honestly, they're worse than the Mafia, except the Cosa Nostra would kill to have a theme tune as catchy as "Painkiller".** Okay, let's get going -
"Summer rain dripping down your face again"
Ahem - FOOLISH IMPOSTORS <slams fist on table in lieu of emphatic punctuation> Here in the Pond Of Eden it rains ALL YEAR ROUND. Ha! Foreign interlopers, you have been rumbled.
Summer rain, praying someone feels the same"
What, soaking wet? What churlish miserable knaves you are. Misery loving company, eh?
"Take the painkiller, cycle on your bicycle"
What? Are you promoting DRUGS here? This will not do - and you can now be charged with being under the influence in charge of a bicycle. Foreign and junkies to boot <slams both fists on table this time>
"Leave all this misery behind"
Yes, use your head and come in out of the rain, you'll catch your death.
And we shall move on before anyone's head blows up.
| The only legal painkiller recommended by this blog |
I believe I mentioned Kirill Bulychev yesterday. His name won't mean anything to you unless you're an ex-Sinister or a Ruffian, since he lived and wrote there. Science fiction, of a distinct hue, too. There is "The Tale of The Turnip", which is a sci-fi take on an old Ruffian folk tale, and "Professor Kozarin's Crown" and of course the tales about hapless Veliky Guslar, a small provincial Russian town which is always the first point of contact for countless alien visitors. Art?
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| No, I'm not going to translate it for you. Tee hee. |
It's many decades since I last read it, so an enquiry of Abebooks is probably in order.
Right, time for the evening's real work to begin - adding more books to the newly-ordered bookcase that is filed in alphabetical order of author.
* I've done this before and I'm not sorry. Not one bit.
** Do you see what I di - O you do.
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