Into My Creative Process
I don't especially care if you're not very interested in how the mind of Conrad works - because it does, contrary to a whole lot of expectations - for it's MY blog and the tale needs to be told.
First, the urge to throttle mercilessly had to be overcome. Your Humble Scribe has been subject to the vagaries of First Bus this week, which tonight meant the 83 turning up in Gomorrah-on-the-Irwell fifteen minutes late. Of course there were an immense number of passengers to accommodate, with people getting on and off at every single stop. Art!
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| "Ssssssso what?" said the First Bus spokesdemon when asked for a comment |
Thus we were late into Oldham bus station and I missed my connection. The next 409 never appeared and it was 18:55 before the next one did, at which we passengers hurled ourselves at the doors in pathetic gratitude that it had arrived at all. Mark my words, First, when I take over you <Mister Hand redacts a 2,500 word screed involving war crimes and torture> and make them into patë with a garnish of
ANYWAY onto the meat of the matter. One compensation of working in the office is being able to chat to Shelli (she of the cello), on whatever subjects come to mind. What came to mind were bobble-head dolls, because Conrad had noticed these bizarre entities in HMV. "I have some of those," Shelli informed me. "Freddy Mercury and Sansa Stark." Art!
She didn't see any common link between the two, until Conrad quoted "Freddy Mercury" and "The Iron Throne", at which Shelli promptly linked both by virtue of the band name Queen and Sansa becoming Queen.
Well, how can I put this politely? NO!
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| CAUTION! Polish with extreme care |
You can argue, quite tellingly, that heavy metal was invented by The Jeff Beck Group, which is another music for a different kitchen.
Motley! Ready the Thermite Cannons and prep the Lava Moat, for I hear the sinister susurrus of steam locomotives a-circling The Mansion.
Evil swine
Woe Is We
For Lo! we are back to Crisis Point 2021, and the machinations and shenanigans upon Grand Woebetideus, Edward Henry Island and Petit Woebetideus continue anon. If you recall, Conrad was playing one party of British, and their leader, Lieutenant Merkin Muffley Munro. We had become involved with a landing party of Spanish infantry, who - Art!
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| Before |
These Spanish curs were pretty good shots and every one of the British above was either killed or routed off the table.
Ooops. Art!
Here we see the cart containing the beautiful Countess Cwerinska, a widow stranded upon the Woebetides, whose life has been saved by Lieutenant Munro's gallant sacrifice as he threw himself in front of a musket ball that would have surely killed her. Instead it killed him. Oooops, again.
But - what's this? Art!
The Countess has been captured! Arthur, our gallant British leader, impels his forces forward to attempt a rescue, alas too late. He even offers to buy the Countess back but Will, the player commanding the Spanish, has a shrewd idea that she's a hot-ticket item and won't even negotiate.
Good for Will; you see, the Countess was actually a French spy with instructions to slip away from the British as soon as possible and rendezvous with the landing force, which was Conrad's second set of objectives.
I also have to say that young Arthur demonstrated an unfortunate willingness to negotiate with the enemy, instead of getting stuck in with the bayonet, which made me nervous whenever Phil 'Forked Silver Tongue" Gray took him off to one side for a little chat. He'll learn.
Back To Kevin Tinsley's - Er - "Tank"
You remember, that peculiar vehicle designed to be a kind of quart-in-a-pint-pot armed assault wagon, taking the place of the Poor Benighted Infantry. Art!
Note that this - er - 'baby battle buggy' mounts a cannon that looks to be at least 30 mm calibre*, plus two machine guns, and a mortar and a flamethrower. Where do they store the ammunition? MG ammunition comes in cans, for your information and I don't think there's room for a single one here. How do you aim the cannon and mortar? This was way back in the days before computer-assisted sights and digital vision aids. By guess and by golly?
Ah yes the suspension. Three independent motors, meaning triple the chances of a malfunction. Not only that, the weight of this puppy is spread over a very small track 'footprint' meaning a high ground-loading, in turn meaning it is likely to bog down on soft ground.
Hmmmmm colour Conrad not impressed.
Conrad: Like Nitric Acid - Still Fuming
I've been bottling up the rage and rancour for a few days, as you may have noticed I've avoided venting spleen about Codewords. Reticent no longer! Let the bilious invective commence -
"EPOCH": Say what? The ONLY people who use this word are palaeontologists when they discuss various periods of prehistory such as the Pre-Cambrian or the Ordovincian one, which is why they don't get invited to parties.
Should I even Collins Concise it? O go on. "A point in time beginning a new or distinctive period". From the Greek, OBVIOUSLY.
"EFFIGY": After the Collins Concise, "a crude representation of someone, used as a focus for contempt or ridicule". Ah yes, a word that has an outing once per year here in This Sceptred Isle on November Fifth. Other people further abroad have more opportunities. Art!
In the bad old days this would have triggered a Sinister invasion
"FIBULA": It's a bone.
Told you so
WHAT, ARE WE ALL SURGEONS NOW?
Finally -
Conrad is making progress with the 3D Empire State Building, working from the inside of various parts of the structure. I have definitely mislaid some pieces so I shall have to bite the bullet and go through about 700 remaining bits to try and track down those gone absent. Art!
* Apologies for using <hack spit> metric
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