The World Is Not Enough

Well, It Can't Be, Can It?

Why else would Hom. Sap. go on bleating about the Moon?  Although, strictly speaking, that phrase "Crying for the Moon" became invalid on July 20th 1969, in the sense that it was no longer an effective metaphor for "I want something that is impossible to attain".  

Ours for the taking!

Unless, of course, it means weeping on behalf of the Moon, for it will never be able to walk on the green hills of Earth.  Nor should it, or there wouldn't be any Earth left.

Moonie pays a visit

     Plus, you we keep sending exploration missions to Mars, which, although a rather inhospitable bit of real estate, is a lot kinder than the Moon.  "Looking at the Red Planet, I want to get my hands on it," as The Comsat Angels song goes.

     So, patently, the world - this world - is not enough.  Acquisitiveness and wishing, two salient factors in the human psyche, and an - 

     Sorry, what's that?  You were expecting a detailed treatise on some obscure Nineties film of the same title?  You're making this up!  There can't possibly be -

O.

     Sheer coincidental happenstance, honestly.  I was merely looking for a way to introduce the Moon into our conversation, as it seems to have gone down very well in terms of popularity of late.  So well, in fact, that we shall forbear slinging atom bombs at it for cheap laughs*.  I suppose today's later title reflects that John Wyndham work "The Outward Urge".
     Okay, time for me to go visit the Motley now that it's conscious and able to string a coherent sentence together.  We may be able to smuggle some sugared almonds past Matron and really make it's day!

A Sense Of Deja-Vu

This is rather odd.  Conrad is now 40% through "The Shining" and definitely recalls reading about the wasps previously; it's just that I'd not realised the scene came from this novel.  Plus there was a hazy remembrance of the destroyed child's trike, with the unravelled wheel spokes sticking up in the air.  Is there another chapter where Jack has a falling out with his drinking buddy Al, over the background to the Overlook Hotel being built?

"Jack had long harboured a hatred of doors.
Today, he would do something about it."

     Or is this all simply precognition a la Danny Torrance? Most probably an overindulgence in cooking sherry <the hideous truth courtesy Mister Hand>

Cheating

Yesteryon Conrad remembered the title of a zombie-horror novel-length story he wrote about nine years ago, "From Shadow To Daylight", which has sat on the PC and not gone anywhere since then.  In fact it was so long since I'd written it that Your Modest Artisan had forgotten most of what he'd written.

     So, with a touch of trepidation, I went back to it, and do you know, it's still fairly passable.  It would have to be tickled up a little to bring it into 2020, and I think one character's name is mistakenly changed, yet it holds up fairly well.

Plus there are Nazi zombies!

     I think I'll let you judge a little for yourself, which will also incidentally up the word count, hence the "Cheating" title for this item:

     "Using the small mobile generator to illuminate the collapsed hut did reveal more details that torchlight alone wasn't powerful enough to show.  They backed the thrumming engine up to the window.  

     A single sheet of dull grey sat in the typewriter, itself a massy metal artefact lying sideways on the floor by the bony fingers of the dead typist.

     'No paper,' puzzled Dena.

     'Does it matter?'

     'It might!  That typist could have been typing about what happened here when their slaves battered the door down.'

     Four feet away, the paper lay well out of reach, even if they had dared to enter the collapsed building to retrieve it.  Which brought another question to Chetville's lips.

     'They broke down the door, right?  Why not just go in through the window?  It's not barred or locked.'

     Demonstrating, he pushed one frame open, to a grating creak."

     This, gentle reader, is when our geologist hero and his on-again-off-again girlfriend are exploring the sinister and secret mine at Uhacs ...

The church at Perechyn, which features

     Hmmm.  Not that big a short cut to the Compositional Ton as I had to type it out longhand, "Copy & Paste" not working between Word and Blogger.

Vietnam In England - Back To "Full Metal Jacket"

We have covered how Ol' Stan found palm trees, fake tropical plants and appropriate military vehicles and aircraft (though at one point the wrong helicopter shadow is projected) to bring downtown Hue from Vietnam to England.  All well and good, yes; he now needed an actual filming location that mirrored the architecture of colonial French Indochina -

     - SO HE COULD BLOW IT UP! <ahem> Art?

An example

     

"Okay, who forgot to bring the marshmallows?"

     Stanley had the production crew search out a fitting location, which turned out to be Beckton Gas Works, long derelict and due for demolition, and also comprising Thirties buildings that mirrored a lot of the architectural designs found in Vietnam.  He and the crew were thus able to smash, bash, crash, shoot and <thinks> render destitute as much as they liked, with no consequences.  Where you see buildings blown up, they were really getting blown up; no CGI (it didn't exist then) or unconvincing flamepots or shoddy, flimsy sets.

With coincidental Monolith in background

      This kind of destructive freedom is rare in films, because people are generally reluctant to allow their towns and villages to be blown to perdition in pursuit of cinematic realism.  Here the owners of BGW were probably rubbing their hands with glee at all the expense they were spared in not having to carry out demolition.

Conrad still unsure how they got permission to use the "Mickey Mouse" song

Finally -

You know Conrad, a man with all the sporting interest of a chunk of basalt.  In fact chunks of basalt have complained at the comparison.  Anyway, I saw a picture on the BBC's website that tickled my sense of humour - your's isn't important - and - Art?

     It's nice to see that the South Canadians are at last participating in real sports without all that namby-pamby protective stuff, and that a British team can still give them a right shoeing.

And with that we are so completely done!

*  Because atom-bombing the Moon is a comedy staple.