BOOJUM!: On The Scene With Angouleme

It All Begins To Make Sense Now

That is, as much sense as we ever want to see here at BOOJUM!, for we have never been big fans of logic, rationality or forensic philosophy. Don't forget the Moebius Strip, a two-dimensional single-sided surface if at any time you feel that things are getting too Sensible. Art?

Art! No - wellllll perhaps yes -
(we'll come to that in a minute)

Okay, okay, here a brief diversion, yes, the artwork above is from that master of comics Jean Giraud, whose stylonom was indeed "Moebius" and he did do comic strips, several of which are extremely NSFW. However - Art!

Well. I suppose that illustrates what I was after, kind of <puts Tazer away>.

Where were we? O yes - Angouleme, the town in France that has a comics museum and a statue of Corto Maltese*. Your Humble Scribe did wonder why on earth this particular polity popped into his head.

Not, it seems, out of nowhere. You should also recall that Conrad was banging on about comic and puzzle artist Jason Shiga, whose comic book "Demon" WAS NOMINATED FOR AN AWARD IN ANGOULEME! and whose intricately convoluted comic book "Meanwhile" is a recent purchase of mine. Art?

CAUTION! NSFW or children

We can at least forge a possible link between the two without straining coincidence too much, don't you think?

I'm glad we got at least that sorted out, and so much for "Angouleme". Now all we have to do is figure out what "Maquillage" is, whether you can eat it, clean your shoes with it, or use it to get rid of unsightly weeds.

Unsightly. Weedy. And probably in danger of a good maquillaging.

Okay, Motley, time to play Lava Hopscotch!

Just To Be Clear

I know, I know, Conrad never stops harping on about how he loathes the very bones of Shakespeare, the Barf of Avon, Billy Bacon-stealer**, and yet I am going to quote from "MacBeth": "You have scotched the snake, not killed it," as said by our exasperated anti-hero when the assassins kill SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT SPOILER ALERT I WARNED YOU his old mate Banquo but fail to hack, stab and slash his son Fleance into a human doiley. Art?

Fleance prepares to ~~flea~~ flee.

The word "Scotched" here is not used because Ol' Mac is Scottish; it is seventeenth century for "Scorched". You also find it present in "Butterscotch", where the butter (and sugar) are heated to a temperature sufficient to cause toffification, or scorching if you like <weeps quietly for butterscotch>. Conrad does wonder at the analogy of a scorched snake; snakes are vanishingly rare in England and are even rarer in Scotland thanks to the bleak, chill weather.

Don't ask. I Googled it, that's all you need to know.

So - yes I do take a long time to get to the point - Conrad suspects that in "Hopscotch" the hopping action of players mimics that of people involuntarily traversing very hot ground; ground so hot, in fact, that is scorches either the soles of their boots or their feet.

CAUTION! Not to be confused with Saoirse pronounced "Sorsha" Ronan***

Sbohem, Sladka Vec ...

For yes, it is time to utilise the last of those unusual Czech words that Marketa has been gifting us with for Lo! these many months, which is a bit of a relief, to be honest, as she can fly off the handle if neglected for a few days. Should you ever have to pass on bad news to her, such as you accidentally crushed her car beneath the tracks of your tank, or dug for coal right under her living room, don't tell her so in kitchen. Too many sharp pointy things with cutting edges to hand ...

So, Marketa my dove, my pigeon, my cassowary, what do you have for us today?

"Podivin": a weirdo.

Hmmmm. That sounds a peculiarly apt word to end our tete-a-tete on. Next!

(O, it means "Goodbye, sweet thing")

"Marketa took the news about her car very badly indeed."

Too Much In The Skies

Heaven's Above!

That's one for the Annette Peacock fans out there. Don't worry, this isn't about avant-garde jazz with synthesizers; rather it's about a little acid commentary concerning the Ruffians (and to see if we can make Dimya cry!) and the Populous Dictatorship. Art?

Cheekbones sharp enough to shave with

I take my cue from the BBC website, which reported on a phenomenon in the heavens that is only going to get worse over time, namely orbital collisions between various bits of space junk circulating up there. Art?

A touch of poetic licence yet a compelling illustration nonetheless. There are thousands upon thousands of bits of rubbish from all the missions into space that currently orbit Earth, ranging from single bolts to enormous discarded rocket stages. There was consternation recently that a Sinister-era satellite might impact with a Pop.Dic. Chang Zheng rocket stage, creating an incredibly high-speed impact that would saturate their orbits with tons of debris. Each piece of which could potentially destroy other, functional, hardware in orbit. Art!

What goes up - tends to stay up, actually

The two bits of orbital junk came within 100 yards of each other yesterday, so the bullet was dodged this time. However, given the sheer volume of crud floating around up there at speed, it is only a matter of time before another impact (yes there have already been plenty!) takes place. And a lot of it is Sinister-era, as I mentioned above, back when they didn't give a stuff about the environment or what might drop on people's heads, especially if it were their own heads. Art?

Those are some Zenit stages under construction and a whole Stage 2 above them, with some puny humans to give a sense of scale.

It's not all doom and gloom (booh!), as the problem is recognised and various solutions are currently being either trialled or designed, with capture of debris or de-orbiting it the two favoured options. NASA got very sniffy when Conrad proposed a whole lot of nuclear detonations to clear things up, which is typical of the stuffy old fuddy-duddies. Bah!