If You Know Anything About BOOJUM!
Then you know we have a series of sardonic names for the nations of the world. Britain, for example, is either Perfidious Albion (an epithet dating from the nineteenth century, so Conrad didn't invent it because people already thought badly of us) or This Sceptred Isle. France is the M8s, because we are such splendid friends now (this has not always been the case and in fact we have been enemies for so long that this whole 'friends' thing is still a bit of a novelty). The Germans are the Teutons, which is impressively free from insult. Our oil-field chums the Norwegians are the Norks - said with a merry laugh, which is important for later. Art!
Norway. Home to the Norks.
Across the Atlantic we have South Canada, our appellation for the United States of America, because Conrad refuses to accept the end result of the American Revolution, and the British Americans are the Canadians, because they are, and whom also get described as the Canuckistanians, because they are too polite to object. Then we have the Ruffians, so-called after their ballfoot fans ascribed to be the most hooliganest of fans in a ballfoot competition*. Also in Asia is the Populous Dictatorship; officially it's acronym is "P.R.C." which would lead to a very rude name indeed, so they can stay the Populous Dictatorship. Then we come to the meat of the matter, as I like to say. North Korea, the bankrupt international pariah whose economy consists of famine and nuclear missiles; they are the Norks, said with a sneer. Art!
The Norks by night
Conrad is unaware that there is any entertainment industry in Norkland, and if there is it probably creates films three hours long entitled "White Hot Thrill Of Potato Harvesting!" or television program serials thirty-three hours long about "How 132nd Engineering Battalion Built A Bridge Out Of Human Bones Of Evil Traitors Who Dared To Die Without Permission"
And so we come to the gravy upon the meat of the matter (yes yes yes a strained analogy, so what, it's not as if you have to pay to read this): South Korea, whose population I have just decided gets the name of - Storks. Art!
Erk. Apparently that above is an Oriental Stork, which were once native to South Korea but which died out in the Seventies. There was a restoration program launched with the acquisition of a breeding pair from the Ruffians**, which has been a major success with 140 storks now reared from chicks.
None of which was known to me when I made my bold naming decision. Serendipity, hmmm?
Art, time for you and the Tazer to have a little chat
Onto The Herb Garnish On Top Of The Gravy On The Meat Of The Matter
Ha! Do you see how I turned that strained analogy around and totally owned it? Back to the Storks and a drama series of theirs called "Squid Game", which I have to warn I am going to create SPOILERS for.
GAP FOR THOSE STILL MAKING THEIR MINDS UP
FURTHER GAP FOR THOSE WHO ARE INDECISIVE
MAKE YOUR MIND UP ALREADY!
The strange title comes from a Stork children's game, played on the outline of a giant squid (absent the tentacles). The premise is that we follow chief protagonist Seong Gi-Hun, who is absolutely down on his luck and in heavy debt to people you don't want to owe a single Won to.
Seong. A bit weaselly but fundamentally decent
He enrols in a series of 6 games, being contestant 456 of 456 total; the ominous beginning of his game playing consists of being gassed into unconsciousness before waking up in a giant dormitory with 455 other track-suit clad players. Art!
Everyone present is there because they are in dire financial straits, and because the total prize money on offer is £28,000,000 (or W45,000,000,000). Their first game is "Red Light, Green Light" where a giant manequin begins facing a wall. On the phrase "Green Light" players move towards the finish line; on the phrase "Red Light" they have to stop moving. They have five minutes to cross the finish line. "Anyone moving after 'Red Light' will be eliminated" declares the announcer.
And how. Art?
"Eliminated" by being immediately shot dead. This provokes a panicked stampede towards the firmly closed entrance doors, and Every. Single. One. of these people are shot dead.
You remember that starting total of 456? Well at the end of this game there are 201 survivors. And that's only one of six games.
More to come!
"#Alive"
Currently watching this entertaining - if somewhat cliched - Stork zombie film, about a young man trapped in an apartment building when the Zombie Apocalypse arrives. He makes contact with a young woman on the opposite side of the complex, trailing a cable to her via drone and communicating via walkie-talkie. Art!
Kim and Joon-Woo (which sounds like a love song!). Suffice it to say that the Script Gods were looking after Kim, since she leaves her apartment balcony windows completely uncovered, meaning any zombie shambling by has a good chance of seeing her. But, hey! she's got natural light!
Their 'escape plan' lacks any subtlety; rappel to the ground and outrun the zombie hordes seems to be the whole of it. How about 'Decoy them away to the other side of the complex by dropping things off a balcony'? Or 'Thin the hordes out by dropping things on them from the eighth floor'? Really! Has neither of them ever sat down to work out a Zombie Escape Plan***? Art!
Ooops. Wrong floor!
Kim does come up with an ingenious way of clearing a balcony - of which I shall say no more.
Conrad. Was Bad.
I heartily apologise for going and reading an old "Doctor Who" fanfiction of mine that I wrote so long ago I'd forgotten the details, and continued reading when I ought to have been blogging <hangs head in shame>. It's called "The Sea Of Sand" and is one of those deadly serious fanfics that doesn't have The Doctor indulging in romancing a Mary Sue companion whom is a thinly disguised author. Here's the link if you fancy a long, rather complex story:
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2824071/7/The-Sea-of-Sand
This gives you a sense of time and place
Finally -
What a dirty dismal day it's been! Once again the Atlantic has been paying us a visit in it's generosity about reducing drought. So a soggy September says goodbye. Sapristi!
* Don't ask me which one, I've got no idea.
** Kudos to the Ruffians. See, they can do the decent thing when they try.
*** Conrad has seven and is working on Eight and Nine.
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