Noted Manchester Tunesmiths -
Rather than the abstract metric <spits> volumetric quantity. There is a song of theirs, with an outstanding musical bridge, called "I'm Mandy Fly Me", which rather cheekily for a piece of pop culture, manages to refer to more pop culture - "Dr. No" if you weren't aware. Art!
The song, if you've been living in a deep-sea bathyscaphe for the past 50 years, is about a plane crash, where our narrator is the only survivor. He is seemingly plucked from the jaws of death (literally, there were sharks*) by the spirit of Mandy. The whole thing is given a precis in the sotto voce intro: "Oh no you'll never get me up in one of these again, 'cos what goes up must come -"
Yes, I am referring to the South Canadian passenger jet, full of passengers, and less full of jet than it ought to be. Art!
Fortunately the aircraft managed to land safely and nobody was injured. Those sitting on the starboard side above the wing, with a nice clear view of the disintegrating engine, might have needed a change of underwear, mind you.
It doesn't take much imagination to realise this could have been so much worse, props to the flight crew for managing to make a safe landing on one engine. This leads us back to that opening chorus on "Mandy", because one wonders how on earth the airline is going to get those passengers back on a plane. "You may exchange your tickets for a Greyhound or train equivalent; and the C.E.O. will be flying with you should you choose to fly with us for free."
Motley! Let us don armoured hazmat suits and take the fight to the Spitting Devil's Cabbage**!
Meanwhile, Back In Babylon-Lite
(More formally known as "Oldham") Your Humble Scribe had ventured forth for two reasons, one being a depletion in the stocks of loose-leaf Darjeeling in The Mansion, as we were down to what was in the big caddy and two packets, and also the interesting photograph posted on Facebook yesterday about - Art!
People unlucky enough to live beyond the hallowed borders of This Sceptred Isle may not be familiar with Marmite; it is a savoury spread made from yeast, being incredibly savoury, and you either love it or loathe it; there is no middle ground. Conrad has a cup of it as a hot drink on a weekly basis for the B12 it contains. Art!
 |
| Crowned with success |
There had been a pack of 12 on the shelf at Sainsbury's, of which 9 had already gone, so I got 2, just in case they never make it again. Only 4 packets of Darjeeling left, sufficient to keep me going until June. Phew! I didn't get any old ham, but did get some remaindered chicken drumsticks, which is close enough. O hang on - let me just check with "S**** A**" which only us Special People can access - ah, next delivery of Darjeeling on Tuesday. No news on the Dynamite <sad face> which may be premature, as I've not tasted it yet. I shall have a butty washed down with it once this blog is done, and report back.
Not "Darwin Award" Stupid
But still STUPID. The BBC, that font of all that's fit to print, has an article on an estate agent conducting a potential buyer around a property, presumably one not in occupation. The prospective purchaser was shown around the house, and then the estate agent (I think they call theses specimens "realtors" over in South Canada) opened the garage door. To see this - Art!
Ooops.
A cannabis farm
The prospective purchaser was a policeman.
He came back later with a search warrant and the ganja garage was emptied of weeds, whilst the house owner is now in very hot water. One wonders what, exactly, he was thinking. "These plants are very sick and need tender loving individual care in order to thrive and get transplanted back into the garden," said whilst crossing all fingers.
Talking Of Farming ...
A tenuous link, mayhaps, but once again, whose blog is it? For I am reading Jack Swaab's diary about his time as a gunnery officer, and have reached the slogging phase of the Normandy campaign, where he encounters a French farming family and then compares them to "Starkadder".
NO! Wrong kind of snake.
You know Conrad, unable to let anything slide if he can help it. The reference turns out to be from "Cold Comfort Farm", a novel that parodied then-popular rural romances, and where the Starkadders are supporting characters. Conrad enlightened if not that much wiser. Perhaps a trip to the library is in order. Are they still open? That's how long it's been since my last visit.
A Retrospective Perspective
Naval And Military Press are seeking to siphon money out of my wallet again, having sent yet another e-mail comm about new publications (I don't really mind, it makes me feel that someone cares about Conrad). This time it is a triple edition called "Then And Now: The Battlefields of 1914 - 1918 Twenty Years Later" where the title explains all. The photographs of wartime France and Flanders are juxtaposed (did you expect to read this word today?) with photographs taken in the late Thirties. Art!
These were originally published in serial magazine form and are here collected into three volumes. The hardback set will drain your coffers to the value of £145, which you can run by Wonder Wifey and then explain/exclaim that, if you order it NOWNOWNOW then it will be only (!) £85, saving £60.
Yeah, but no.
STILL NO!
Finally -
As promised last night, I sat through "Dalek Invasion Of Earth 2150" and took photographs at salient points, intending to do a kind of photographic commentary, which would be far too long to add in here. I shall whet your appetite for this epic endeavour by adding only a single photograph here. Art!
Yes, that is a poster for "Sugar Puffs" in the background. Anachronistic and incongruous, yes, until you understand that they coughed up £50,000 to publicise the film, and in return we see these signs on several occasions. And unlike other signs, they're not worn, torn and faded into obscurity. Strange, that ...
* Still our friends!
** Apologies to any surviving Strugatsky Brothers
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