The Killing Star -

Has Come Quite Far
No, this is nothing to do with a sequel to Echo and the Bunnymen's "The Killing Moon", and in this instance my particular parcel didn't come too soon, either.  I ordered it a couple of weeks ago if not longer and it's taken until today to arrive.  Part of the reason is that it hails from Phoenix, Arizona, over in South Canada.  Art?

No, Art, no!
<sighs and charges up Tazer>

     Yes, yes, yes, there are only three of them.  Can we move on?  
     We can?  Thank you so much!  Really.  Okay, let's have a proper illustration, once Art has stopped giving off fumes -

Thus

     I've been after this one for a while, except that it was always on Abebooks at silly prices, and may still be - hang on and I'll check in the interests of veracity - yup, £270 with post and packing.  My copy cost £20 all in, which is not bad.  Why you would need to pay £32 in P & P when mine cost £7 is unclear. Chiselling post-abusing weasels!
     Anyway, that's not the only thing of interest about TKS, O no not at all.  You see, there I was, reading up on the Titanic on the BBC's website, and if Art can stop shaking for a moment -

Note the "rusticles"

     The general slant of the article is that corrosion, current and metal-eating bacteria (which form the rust stalactites) are destroying the RMS Titanic at a rate of knots, quite a lot quicker than anyone expected.
     Then, along comes the Coincidence Hydra and - you know the rest.  I end up with it's teeth in my nethers again.  Art?

     From one of the earliest chapters in TKS, no less.
     What are the chances of that happening, eh?  Out of compassion I shall not post anything further that might spoil your possible future enjoyment of TKS.
     There, I think that's quite a trim, capable Intro.  Okay motley, I'm toasting some crumpets ready for butter and persimmon jam, would you like a couple?  

Back To Back
That is, relatively.  You remember that cup I proudly displayed yesteryon, the Doctor Who one that changed design when the cup temperature changed?  Of course you do.  Well, we are back with it, and from a perspective that means we are looking at it's rear compared to yesteryon.  Art?  O go put some salve on and stop whining!

                                                 

 

     Since Conrad is starboard-handed, the handle on these cups being pointed to port thus proves that we are indeed looking at the back.  I've kept the pictures small so you can compare the difference in design, which I admit you need good eyesight for.  Or a magnifying glass.
     There, I'm glad we got that sorted out.

Whoops
I've not even started on any of the items I'm supposed to be typing about, but then again I'm not going to show you my list of items to write about, so you'll just have to take it on trust.
     Here an aside.  I would like to present a bit of doggerel that came to me as I was heading for the bus:

The Tale Of A Noble Captain

I know of a Red Setter, 

Who's a real go-getter, 

And his name is Captain Vim.

He has a cavernous maw,

With a powerful jaw,

And his teeth are exceedingly grim.

Yet he's serenely happy

And not at all snappy, 

Lest you be a villainous sort.

In which case

He'll get in your face -

And hit you with a litigious tort.

     All my own work.  Commissions taken, reasonable rates.  Art?

Ambulance chaser!

Back On Track
As much as we ever are round here.  Okay, I am still milking my visit to the cinema on Monday for material, because i) I can and ii) It's my blog and if you don't like it THE EXIT DOOR IS THAT WAY.  
     Whilst waiting for Darling Daughter to return from nose-powdering, I spotted a large wall poster opposite Screen 18's entrance, which, if Art can pause momentarily in putting on bandages -

     Conrad is pretty sure they have more sophisticated methods to scare away crop-eating birds than crude scarecrows, since the crow in that picture is the very poster-child for unafraid.  There are those things that go BANG at random intervals, aren't there?  Plus, cats.
     The old house in the background is going to be haunted.  You can tell.  Firstly, because of the lighting, which is very limited and hence sinister.  Second, because of the angle of the shot, all low-angle, which inspires terror.  Thirdly, because a single-storey aluminium-sided suburban home just doesn't cut it when compared to a Victorian Gothic mansion.
              
                                              Of course, nothing is ever scary in daylight ...

Conrad's Cryptic Crossword Complaint
It wouldn't be a proper week without at least one of these, would it?  Besides, I know how much you love seeing that vein in my temple throb so, and I can't disappoint my readers.*
     Okay, I forget the clue, yet the answer was "EPISTLE", which my Collins defines as "a letter, especially one that is long, formal or didactic".

     The thing is, crossword compiler, this meaning of the word went out of fashion in the Eighteenth Century.  It's hardly on everyone's lips nowadays, is it?
     That's not all.  The next clue that aroused my Frothing Nitric Ire was:  "Fast nothing, it's slow (5)".  I knew it ended in "O" because I'd gotten "INTERROGATORS" as an anagram, but what could it be?
     Intrepid cellodier Shelli couldn't remember the word herself, so texted her muso boyfriend Matt, who knows about music terms.  "LARGO" he suggested.
     We were all wrong.  "LENTO" is the term we needed.  I've certainly never heard of it before, and - look, Matt is a proper musician and everything and he didn't know!

That's Matt, table-worshipping or whatever arcane behaviour musicians get up to

Finally -
We are over the Compositional Ton, so let me bore you with a little number-crunching and extrapolation, taken from the pages of that recently-acquired tome, "The 23rd Division in the Great War".  During one of the Somme barrages, Sandilands, the author, reports that the division's two artillery brigades fired off 30,000 shells in one 12 hour period, which is going some.
     Of course, Conrad could not simply leave it there.  O no.

Note bottom shield deployed

     You see, there were 3 x 18 pounder batteries (each of 6 guns) to every 4.5" howitzer battery in an artillery brigade, so I worked out the respective ratio of shells:  22,500 to 7,500, for totals of 181 tons of 18 pounder shells and 117 tons of 4.5" shells, for a total of 298 tons.
     In one twelve-hour period.  From one division.
     Food for thought, eh?


*  Both of them!  <the iniquitous truth courtesy Mister Hand>