Miks Mitte Eesti Keel?

Ha, I Thought That Would Puzzle You!

"Miks" must be Phoenecian for "Mix" and "Mitte" is Teuton for "With" and "Keel" is part of a ship's hull, so "Eesti" must refer to blokes from the East, right? runs your interpretation.

     WRONG!  O SO WRONG!  O SO VERY WRONG!

     Do you think I got my point across?  I mean, I refrained from using TWO exclamation marks there, because that would be excessive.

     Also, that word "Eesti" should have given you pause, because it's Estonian for 'Estonian', and the whole thing reads "Why No Estonian?" Art!

     Incidentally, if you've not seen the excellent comedy-thriller "Darkness In Tallinn" THEN WE ARE NOT FRIENDS ANY LONGER.  Tallinn, of course - obviously! - being the capital of Estonia.  That picture above is of the State Bank, due to accept back the national gold reserves that had been carried off by the Teutons.

     "Blimey, has he been at the Jeyes Household Cleaning Fluid again?" I hear you quibble.  Pausing only to nod that, yes, there are people suffering from such an addiction, I shall explicate.  Art!

     This, you will recall, is the 'Sling It Out Stout' that I displayed yesteryon, with the suspicion-inducing information that it used 'Upcycled' Coco-pops in the brewing process.  Art!

It can't have been that bad.

     ANYWAY this hellbrew's ingredients were listed in lots of languages, including Swedish and Finnish and also Latvian and Lithuanian.

     But no Estonian.

     Which is odd.  I mean to say, as part of the Hanseatic League back in the Middle Ages, Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia were Western-focussed and represented the Baltic Republics, until they broke away from the nascent Sinister Union.  It seems that nobody liked the Ruffians back in nineteen twenty-two, either.  Art!

     There you go; south of Finland and east of Sweden (Estonia in blue).  Linguisitcally, the Eestis are able to understand Finnish, which annoyed the Sinisters during the Cold War, because Eestis were able to get Western television programs from across the water.  If you were a Western tourist in Estonia during the Cold War years, then shop staff would take a spiteful delight in serving you before any Ruffian customers.  Not being nice to invasive Slavs seems to have a bit of history behind it, hmmmm?

     Since we seem to be almost dipping our long, mis-shapen and be-taloned toes into the stagnant and unclean waters of Politics, rather than beer, I think this Intro is outro.

     

Tallinn

A Malevolent Marine Monster!

No!  I am not referring to the alien 'Bathies' of John Wyndham's epic "The Kraken Wakes", even if they are monsters and are also marine - look, I think we've got off on the wrong foot.  Let's recap -

     So, the BBC, the font of all that's fit to be writ, has a selection of photographs up that were submitted to the "Underwater Photographer of the Year", and we've been coolly copying them, with a bit of content and comment.  Art!

Swim for your life!

     Photograph courtesy of Lewis Jefferies, who describes this apparition of evil as a compass jellyfish, completely neglecting the fact that it's about to attack and drag it's human victim into the depths, where it will tear them apart with it's gnashing mandibles and

     Hang on, could that be a trick of perspective?  Art!

     Ah.  So.  Wellllll, perhaps he's got gigantic hands?

Old Dog, New Tricks

This week is Week Four in our work rota, meaning that Conrad has to bus it into work, never a fun event, made even less amusing by the endless monsoon rains that lasted all day today.  Your Humble Scribe never remembers what time the Oldham-bound buses are due to arrive at the Springfield Lane bus stop, so -

     What's that?  Look them up on the TfGM website?  ARE YOU INSANE!  It's the most unhelpful and counter-intuitive website ever designed by Hom. Sap. bar none, as you would expect for an entity that involves First Bus.  If First Bus had been in charge of developing the alphabet it would have only three letters, and they'd all be "J".

     So.  Boxing clever, Your Humble Scribe got off at the next stop up, tootled over to the bus stop with it's schedule up and - Art?

Got a photo

     Conrad feels inordinately proud of this achievement.  In the past I'd have scribbled notes in my notebook, which would have been awkward tonight, given the lack of ambient light.  AND I got another 500 steps on my Fitbit.

Time For Your Torment

Luma, our protagonist and grumpy, foul-mouthed lecturer, has been dealing with the scientific analysis of his unwanted 'gift', that being the ability to interact with the spirit world.  Don't forget, we fillet out the swear words; the nerve-shredding terror we leave untouched.

Half a dozen sheets of A4 lay on the lounge floor – damn he still had to get a new coffee table! – with messages scrawled on them.

               ‘You could have stacked them,’ he grumbled, doing just that himself.

               “Hello Louis this is easier than manifesting have you met the Professor yet” he read, carrying the papers into the kitchen. 

               ‘What do you expect, a written response?’  There were no supernatural visitors lurking in the ether, so he didn’t get an answer.  ‘Actually that would make sense.  Hang on.’

               “Marjory” had been scribbled under that first sentence.  Ah, having trouble with her ectoplasm again.  Louis tracked down a red biro, got a hardback book and wrote a reply.

               “Here’s the reply in red, so you can pick it out better.  Yes I have met the Professor, and a starchy old sod he is too” he wrote, making it slow so his script was legible.

               “How come you can see us”.  To which he replied, honestly “No idea and it’s taking a lot of  getting used to”.  No name on that one.

               “Have you met any other spirits yet Louis”.  “Yes.  One stuck in a graveyard, whom has now moved on – should that be Moved On? And I think I may have seen another one today”

               “Do you want a helping hand I am dead good at housework”  which made him laugh.  “??? Thanks but no thanks the neighbours might start to worry”

               “If you want to make lots of money gambling I can help.  Of course you may not want to, which is okay.  Slainte.”  “I’ll get back to you on that.”

               “You looked a proper charlie sitting in that chair with wires all over your head JREF”

               What?  B***** hell, that lab assistant – initials JREF - had been a spirit!  No wonder Paula and Nige thought he was potty, or faking it.  The entity had been too far away, and behind a barrier, for him to pick up on it’s real nature.  “Watch your step, matey and don’t make life difficult for me at college”

     Okay, okay, it's not all nerve-shredding terror.  We can't hit the high notes constantly or you'd get jaded.

Finally -

It's a good job I checked the work rota today, I'd completely forgotten that I'm off on Wednesday, in an attempt to use up as much leave as possible before the next financial year begins.  I nearly typed 'academic' instead of 'financial', too much living in the skin of Louis McMahon one suspects.

Peace, Love, Out.  Yes, Tsar Putin, I am looking at you.

Dimya crying because nobody loves him.