Release The Kraken!

Before You Start -

NO this has nothing to do with that South Canadian attorney who threatened that she was going to carry out this act, which was supposed to be a monstrous event and turned out to be a bit of a damp squid.

     Because I've been whanging on about John Wyndham of late, I've been detailing what I recall from his novel "The Kraken Wakes" and then earlier this afternoon decided to re-read it again.

     Problem one: I have an awful lot of books in my Sekrit Layr, many of which are in no particular order.  Art!

Case in point

     I knew what the paperback looked like, so Your Humble Scribe went a-burrowing through various bookshelves without success, until I dug down to the bottom of a book pile behind the bin, which needs a good dose of bleach.  Success!  TKW freed from durance vile.  Art!

     Upon getting to Pagge 45, Conrad is once again reminded that this is A Very Slow Invasion, as it takes something like four years before evidence of the aliens becomes apparent, and even then things are inconclusive.  Sadly no Remotely Piloted Vehicles in 1953.  Okay, the next bit will have SPOILERS.

     <excuse me whilst I go check the oven>

     Talking of spoiling, I rendered that two-week old remaindered quiche edible by scraping the mould off.  Anyway, SPOILERS AHEAD!

LAST CHANCE!

     What do these ghastly alien invaders look like?  We never find out.  Ol' John was subtle enough to avoid this cliche, hinting with the 'sea tanks' that they might be a form of protoplasm only able to exist under extremes of pressure.  At the end of the novel we hear that the Japanese have invented an ultrasonic propagator that kills the aliens in their abyssal lairs.  What floats to the surface is merely a load of jelly that rapidly decays in sunlight.  "Not the pressure to hold the things together, see".  In the South Canadian edition "Out Of The Deeps" there's a lot more detail about this weapon, so - another trip to Abebooks looms.

     There is, inevitably, another 'Kraken' that is definitely not going to be released tonight, not when it's a school night.  Art!

     Chin chin!

Conrad Is Mildly Annoyed!

No, that was a lie, I am seething with righteous anger and hatred.  First of all, that BBC Radio 4 production of TKW isn't available any longer.  Secondly, and far more importantly, I keep having to deal with Codeword compilers by virtue of Remote Nuclear Detonating them, so much so I've got RSI.  What am I talking about?  O I thought you'd never ask!

"ASCETIC/ACETIC": One of these is a person who denies themselves worldly pleasures typed Conrad, after pigging out on chicken pakoras and soda water, and the other is an acid you would know better as 'vinegar'.  Of course the denialist word comes from the Greek 'asketikos' and 'asketum' is the Latin <hack spit> for vinegar.  YOU'RE PUSHING IT, MATEY!  Art?

     Conrad expects an ascetic would drink the acid rather than have chips to put it on.

"MACHISMO":  Which is a word we rarely hear today, because the shorter and snappier "MACHO" tends to get used instead.  "Strong or exaggerated masculinity", as we already knew, and which I've just confirmed with my Collins Concise.  From the Mexican, and derived from 'MACHO' which is Spanish for 'male'.  There is a note in my CC that the longer word is in the process of being naturalised in English, so the "CH" may get pronounced as a "K".  Art!

CAUTION!  Liable to kill on sight

"ZIGGURAT":  WHAT ARE WE ANCIENT HISTORIANS ALL OF A SUDDEN?  Of course - obviously! - Conrad got this one, not surprising since it was one answer to a Facebook post about how there are no words that begin with "Z" and end in "T".  Art!

Getting ziggy with it

     It was an Assyrian or Babylonian temple complex, for your information, and stood out on the flood plains of those flat lands.  Nope, can't be bothered to go look up any more details.  You can do that.

No, The Moon Is Not A Balloon

For one, if you pierced it with a mighty pin, it wouldn't burst and shower Earth with rubble.  Doubtless there are swivel-eyed loonwaffles out there who insist that it is, honestly, a giant spaceship/cheese/holographic projection*.

     ANYWAY it does make a rather tricky jigsaw puzzle when cut as a circular one.  Art!

Getting jiggy with it.

     The picture provided (upper starboard) is pretty useless, since there is such little contrast on the pieces that it's difficult to resolve anything, beyond 'dark', 'light' and 'inbetween'.  Thus it's a laborious process of matching by shape, which is perfectly fine for your average hair-splitting pedant.  I regard it as a challenge, whilst most of you out there would find it a 

Torment

Another extract in our dark and sinister long-form fiction transcription.  I do try to edit out all the swearing, due to our SFW policy, yet some bones may remain.

‘Stop ******** jumping around!’ barked the detective waiting outside.

‘Did you see it?’ asked Eric, beginning the process that would see him incarcerated for his own safety and well-being.  ‘That – thing.  Did you see it?’

‘Of course he didn’t,’ broke in that voice from the invisible tormentor.  ‘I’m only here for you, Eric.  Only you.’

 

Jennifer recounted her side of this to Louis, taking a great deal of satisfaction in getting her own back on the man who murdered her.  Her reward was a stern talk from Louis.

‘Don’t start to gloat about this!  You are an instrument of justice, not vengeance.  Don’t forget what happens to people who do wicked things.  The same must be true of spirits that transgress.’

He caught himself saying that. 

Christ, did I really say that?  I sound like one of the priests banging on about the Catechism.

‘Don’t you want me to haunt him?’ asked Jen.

‘You can haunt him from now until doomsday, and make him suffer all the torments of hell for every second.  What I don’t want is for you to jeapordise your soul by taking physical action against him.  Remember the First Commandment.’

A good beginning: thou shalt not kill.  Louis felt his long-established persona of not giving a toss about anything wearing thin.  He’d begun to care about this orphan soul and what she did.  She might not have picked up on the consequences of killing another person, but he had.  Now he needed to try and rein her in.

     You see? Eric Miller is getting tormented by a - waitforitwaitforit - Tormentor.

Finally -

O Noes, Conrad is back in the office tomorrow, after being off for two weeks and forgetting how to do everything, not to mention missing training that's been going on.  Fortunately it's the middle shift, 09:00 to 17:00, so a reasonable return to work rather than being up and away at 06:00, and I may even get home before 19:00, woohoo!  I have to pack my bag, get lunch ready, acquire an electronic bus pass for the week, ensure I've got my fob and pass, the usual prosaic stuff.  I am also taking a teapot insert and loose-leaf Darjeeling to see if that works with my 'Brown Betty' teapot.  I'll let you know. 

*  Because NASA blew up the original.  Accidentally, yes; but it's still gone.