Egad! It's 2009

Or, If You Like (And Even If You Don't) Nine Minutes Past Eight

Conrad is a little bemused at how quickly the evening is shooting past him, as he types these first lines of wit, wisdom and wonder.  Usually the creative process takes about an hour and a quarter, or an hour and a half if I have to check background info, do calculations or browse Youtube Malicious Compliance videos research.  So this blog, for Monday, shan't be completed until at least half nine.  Plus I need a shower, forsooth! Your Humble Scribe is back in the Dark Tower tomorrow, and it ill becomes one to sit and stink in the office.  Being back in makes one realise how very convenient it is to work from home, rather than being held ransom by the facile lies that First Bus puts about as it's 'timetable'.

First Bus spokesdemon response: 
<mocking laughter>

     At least my step count will be up.  Thanks to the dismal weather today I've not walked Edna, nor walked down to Babylon-Lite to the Co-Op, consequently my count is only 1248 today and unlikely to rise further.  

     Oooh!  I just checked my e-mails and see that Keith Harrington, the owner of Church Organ World, is putting the summer and Autumn Shades meetings back on, excellent news!  Art?

     What you see here is the Castle Barnard School organ, a sprightly 100 year old instrument, and to starboard is a Johannus Live 3P, which can mimic the sound of dozens of European church organs by plugging in a digital 'key'.  State-of-the-art stuff indeed; in fact you can reproduce the sound from different positions within the church itself, where reverb begins to have a noticeable effect.

     Autumn Shades is an inversion of the usual gig situation for Conrad; rather than being the oldest person in the room I am one of the youngest.

     Right, enough Intro.  Motley, kindly dig out a sci-fi film or television show that describes 'organ banks', since a whole lot of people I dislike are going into them when I take over.

<nervous laughter>

I Beg Your Pardon

If only a little, because I've been putting this one off for days and days.  You know those words and phrases that pop up in my mind from time to time?  It happened again, with the name 'Osip Mandelstam'.

     "It's Russian," I declared to me.  Me agreed.  Okay, so who is or was he?

     Ah yes.  Art!

     A poet, and a very influential one at that.  Unfortunately he fell foul of The Little Sod With The Moustache ('Stalin' if we're being formal), after writing and reading poetry critical of Ol' Joe's tash behaviour and reputation.  His work lapsed into abeyance, not helped by him dying in 1938 and his verses didn't see daylight until Stalin did the decent thing and dropped dead.

     You ought to know by now that Conrad heartily loathes poetry and won't read it, so I've never knowingly read any of Osip's works.  Nothing I've been reading recently has any Russian connection.  Why, then, did his name pop into my head?

     

More Marine Manifestations

Yes, more images from the Underwater Photograph of the Year competition, because it's a quick and easy way to generate content, before you ask.  It's already heading for nine o'clock and I'm only half-way through the word count needed, O the pressures of being a blogger in

     ANYWAY let us bring up the next photograph.  Art!

"Mimic" Courtesy Javier Murcia

     Yes yes yes it looks like a piece of weed stuck to a pipe-cleaner.  Look closer.  In fact  -

     This is a seagrass shrimp - the green item - settled on a seagrass pipefish - the pipe-cleaner - which it has mistaken for the real thing.  Both species live in - and you may be ahead of me here - seagrass, off the Spanish coast.  I don't know if we can dig up an image of seagrass for completeness; let me cattle-prod Art into wakefulness.

     There you go.  Well-named.  O stop whining, Art, and put a bit of cream on it.

No Crying Over Spilled Milk

I shall have to explain that one, shan't I?  Okay, the Greek for 'milk' is 'Gala', from which we get the Latin <hack spit> 'Galaxia', hence the name for those gigantic collections of star and dust and other interstellar shizzle, 'Galaxies'.  So-named because they look like <drum roll cymbal crash> spilt milk.  Art!

     All galaxies are big <to use cosmic understatement> and our own Milky Way galaxy comes in at 200,000 light years across.  Well, the newly-discovered galaxy above, 'Alcyoneus' is a behemoth's big brother, clocking in at over 16,000,000 light years across.  I know what you lot, skeptical as ever, are going to say.  "If it's sooooo big why didn't those lazy astronomers discover it sooner?"  For a very good reason: it's over 3 billion light years away.  The 'lazy' astros came across it by accident when they were researching distant radio sources.  Art!

Because someone would have complained if we didn't put it up

I Think A Little Tasteful "Tormentor" Is In Order

And you know what, it's MY blog so it's going to happen.

Perhaps unaware of his action, the spirit glanced downwards. 

Must mean Hell, realised Louis. 

‘Not only that, Morgan has extended his time here by possessing the bodies of the living, leeching off their vital essence and thus sustaining himself long past his natural end.’

‘Sounds like a champion s***,’ commented Louis.  The spirit glared at him.

‘Don’t be so flippant and dismissive!  He is extremely powerful and dangerous!’

In silent answer, Louis waved the silver bracelet.

‘How would you deal with him if he were here, yet not visible?’ asked the spirit, scornfully.  Louis shrugged.

‘I’d know if he was here.  I could feel your presence before you got solid.’

This simple statement visibly impressed the spirit.

‘Really?’ he asked.  ‘Most impressive!  Verbius could not manage that feat.  Well, well.  I stand corrected.  Regardless, you are still at risk.  I doubt Morgan would attack you directly, however, because you can defend yourself.’

‘Not directly.  Okay, how would he attack?’

‘Oh, with one of his thralls or minions.  Yes, yes, I shall explain – he is able to influence certain living people, those who are naturally deficient in willpower, and have them execute his will.  The others are simply those who follow him, like starlings.  They hope that being his followers will prevent his wrath from being visited upon them.’

‘What does he look like?’ asked Louis, being more interested in the practical matters of keeping himself hale and hearty.

‘By reputation, a being of fire and smoke.’

‘Stands out in a crowd, then.’

Once again Louis got the stare.

From Morgan's fleshy days: the Thirty Years War

Finally -

Coming into the final stretch to complete the Compositional Ton, and the time is now 21:19, so my estimates weren't too bad.  We only need a short item, so - let's kick the T34 while it's down and made Dimya weep into his snotty hanky, shall we?  Art!

     That, gentle reader, is the clutch and gearing for a T34, which was a thing of horror.  Supposedly there were 4 gears, which needed the clutch to be wrestled as if it were The Rock in his WWE days in order to attain them.  It was hard to get into first gear, even harder to get into second gear, and forget about third or fourth.  The T34 was driven in second gear, and drivers frequently carried a hammer to manage their gear shifting.
     Hanky for Dimya!