Florence Is The Machine

"Conrad Paused, Eyes Narrowed, Finger Poised -"

ABOVE THE REMOTE NUCLEAR DETONATOR.  Yes, beware gentle reader, lest you too be converted into a cloud of plasma.  That would make it seventeen today and I don't care if I make it to seventeen thousand*.  No, today's title is not a typo, never mind how many gallons of gin have passed my lips.  Art!

How to scare cats the Florence way!

     Excuse me whilst I froth internally about a Codeword I've just completed - okay, froth over.  

     As you should surely know by now, BOOJUM! takes great delight in observing and analysing and generally nerding-out about large machines used in civil engineering (plus occasional military constructs: For Which See 'Triphibian Tactical Tree-Crusher'), and Your Humble Scribe has but recently come across a splendid example of the genre.  Art!

     This pocket monster is a boring and tunnel-laying machine, intended to construct portions of the HS2 railway line, whether we want it or not.  The name is either a tribute to the Italian Renaissance city, or that girl from "The Magic Roundabout". Art!

     I know which is less boring! <ahem> ANYWAY this massive mole-machine is intended to dig dig dig into the landscape of This Sceptred Isle, in order to create tunnels beneath the English countryside, advancing at the unbelievable rate of 15 yards per day.  I say, chaps, that's letting the side down rather; go compare yourselves to the speed of light for a work ethic!  Art!

     Which we will interpret as "170 yards".  One commentator said to think of it more as a mobile factory that digs and lines the tunnel as it goes.  Art!

     

     The design isn't really new; we've seen this before when Isembard Brunel was tunnelling beneath the Thames, except in his case the excavating and lining was done by an army of sweating navvies.  Florence uses pre-cast concrete segments to line once the excavated spoil has been conveyored away.  Art!

     So, since this thing moves so slowly it would annoy snails, expect it to be 10 days at least before Florence departs from daylight into darkness.

The Haul

Unusually for Your Humble Scribe, I did not get up late this morning, nor did I stay in my Sekrit Layr to faff about on teh Interwebz.  No, instead Conrad had a scrape and scrub and tootled off to Rochdale and the charity shops there, looking for any film pre-dating the Nineties.  To no avail.  How can I continue to educate you about film matte work?  Yes yes yes "Buy the relevant films on DVDs" I hear you say.  I may have to.  Art!

     Conrad has read "The Road", which consists of two men mucking about in a rubbish heap, until one of them dies.  The nature of the catastrophe which causes civilisation to end is undetermined, and after reading it I really couldn't care less.  The film may be less dour.  I have, of course - obviously! - seen the original "Solaris" and have also read the book, if only once and a long time ago.  I will sit in imperious judgement on George Clooney's effort here.  "Warrior Race" is a look at the British at war, even before there was a Britain, which is no mean feat.  Art!

Winnie looks angry.  Who's been naughty?

The Pen Is Mightier That The Sword

But not usually as expensive.  The most that Conrad has spent on a pen is £50, for a Schaefer that I hesitate to use because it is - well, so expensive.  So it is with a sense of jealousy, envy and contrary admiration that I understand Rudy Giuliani - a chap in the headlines for political reasons we shan't go into - spent £5,384 on fountain pens.  Wowsers!  Art?

     That there is a Mont Blank FP, a company known for making very, very expensive pens, and this model (Meisterstuck 149 gold-plated) will set you back a cool £720.  Discounting the nouveau riche pens that are made from gold or encrusted with diamonds - because neither of those improves your penmanship - you can understand how Rudy could have run up such a bill.  In case you are curious, a good FP will balance easily in your hand, carry a satisfying weight and permit good writing.  I wonder - what ink does he use?

Remember Tidal Islands?

We did a series of items about tidal islands across This Sceptred Isle, years ago, for no other reason than that Conrad found them interesting.  Well, one of them has cropped up in the news recently: Saint Michael's Mount.  Art!

     The castle's owners, the St. Aubyn family, are looking for a "castle officer" who will live on-site for at least five days per week.  Anyone unfamiliar with boats or who suffers from sea-sickness need not apply, because when the tide is in the only way on or off the Mount is by boat.  That "Tidal island" in the title kind of gave it away.  Art!

Tide out

Tide in

     Interestingly enough, the BBC article that prompted this item mentions that the St. Aubyn family acquired the castle after the English Civil Unpleasantness.  Hmmm, I wonder, I wonder.  You see, Cornwall (which is where the Mount resides) was solidly pro-Royalist; however, the castle doesn't seem to have been 'slighted' or rendered toothless and defenceless, so one wonders if the St. Aubyn family were pro-Parliamentarians put in there to keep an eye on the restless natives.  Art!

Most picturesque

Finally -

Bad drills, as they say in the army.  Now, this story is not yet verified over at The Darwin Awards, so you may take it with a pinch of salt.

<sigh> thanks, Art

     The poster states that the DA wannabe in this case hated dentists, wouldn't attend the dentist and avoided brushing his teeth.  Predictably, he ended up with a lot of cavities.  Rather than going to the dentist to get these sorted, he decided to <cue sinister oboe solo> Do It Himself.  This would save the bother of having to go through making an appointment and attending it, and it would be FREE! (this counts above all for some people).

     So he set about drilling out these cavities with a Black and Decker handheld drill.  At no point is 'beer' mentioned, but Conrad feels sure it was an influence.  The results were all you might expect; he broke his two bottom incisors before losing control of the drill and gouging chunks out of his chin.

Should have used one of these, mate.  More controllable.

     And with that we are done, because it's lunchtime and I need a pot of Darjeeling.

*  We must not terrify the population too much.