The Benefits Of Having A Mind Like A Skip

"Dumpster" For Our South Canadian Friends

"Kuka" if any Magyars are reading these lines.  Conrad prefers the British version, thanks for asking, because the trans-Atlantic one sounds vaguely offensive.  

     "What is the drivelling bumbletuck going on about now?" I hear you query.  Pausing only to acknowledge your ability to make a not-swear sound like one, I shall explicate.  Art!

     They will never challenge Motorhead or Black Sabbath as World's Hardest Rockers, being quite lightweight.  Catchy tunes, mind, one of which came back and kicked me in the pants (unfelt thanks to armoured underwear).  It was "Sovereign Light Cafe" and Conrad wondered -

     Yes, there is a real SLC.  Art!

     What's more, it sits on the coast near Eastbourne, and if Art will put down his anthracite sandwich -

     Not shown on the map, since they don't appear to include marine architecture, is the Royal Sovereign Lighthouse, which we have been going on about these past few days.  So, without further ado -

      That's the position of the lightship that the RSL replaced, a presence that had been there for 96 years.  Why they decided it had to go and an expensive replacement constructed is a bit moot.  Art!

The base is floated out

     Once the sea-bed had been cleared of boulders and given a gravel foundation, the base was towed into position and allowed to flood.  Those giant cylinders on the decking are bouys, which helped to control the descent and angle.  Art!

Schematic

Actual

     Those small black figures atop the tower are people, who must have been 110% confident in the qualities of this base unit, because you wouldn't catch Conrad up there (although I am a massive Noel).  Once the base had settled horizontally, cushioning sand bags that had taken the shock of descent were piped away, allowing the cutting edges of the base unit to 'bite' into the gravel and further secure the base.  More gravel was piped down to fill any gaps still remaining.

     That was Part One.  The much trickier Part Two was to get the cabin unit floated out to sea and have it mate with the base unit, a task requiring tolerances of 1/5th of an inch, or about 5 millimetres if you want Metric <hack spit>.  First it was shoved into position on a temporary platform in the basin that the base unit had been floated out of.  Then it had to be lifted on pistons to a height of six feet to allow pontoons to be floated in beneath it.  Art!

Shades of Baba Yaga

     They had workers underneath the whole thing, measuring how high and how fast the cabin was being lifted, and moving wooden blocks in to sustain the lift, and once again these people must have had 110% confidence in the machinery.  Art!

MIND FINGERS!

     I think we'll leave it there for the moment, I don't know if you can take much more of this excitement.

     Motley!  I want a float.  Strawberry ice cream and cloudy lemonade, please, and quick about it.

Back To "All Of Us Are Dead"

I did threaten you with this earlier, and I shall repeat my caution of yesteryon:

THERE WILL BE SPOILERS!

GREAT BIG SPOILERS THAT WILL RUIN YOUR ENJOYMENT FOREVER!

OF "AOUAD", NOT LIFE IN GENERAL

JUST THOUGHT I'D MAKE THAT CLEAR

You know me, moral to a fault.  Okay, I now have evidence of what I described on Sunday, namely the Korean army using swarms of drones to lead the Hyosan zombies to central locations where they can be missiled to bits.  Art!

     Apologies for any image artefacts, I took the pictures whilst allowing the stream to play, instead of pausing it, since that adds a load of obscuring text to the screen.  I mentioned missiles, didn't I?  Art!

Missile about to hit zombie swarm

     You can just see the size of the crater these missiles leave, with the shell of the High School in background for scale.  These puppies pack a punch and a half, so I'm guessing that they were ballistic in nature with a very large HE warhead.

     Now for the number crunching! SIT BACK DOWN!  This IS interesting.  We are given stats for the emergency in Hyosan: a total population pre-Z of 170,000, of whom 110,000 have been evacuated to quarantine camps.  Which means a 64% evacuation rate, so not bad.  Clearly the Korean army is a lot more efficient and organised than hapless Western militaries.  Ah, you say, what about the remaining 60,000?  There is a very high chance of fatalities for uninfected hiding in the vicinity of the four target zones, yes; everyone else who heard the heliborne warnings should be fine.  Giving a guesstimate of half of those 60,000 being zombies, that means 30,000 uninfected humans, of whom perhaps 5,000 were killed due to the missiles.  So, overall about an 80% survival rate.  Qualified thumbs-up for the Korean army.  Art!

Zombies or Black Friday shoppers?  Only you can tell!

A Little Home-Grown Horror

Less blood and more of the supernatural, with <drum roll cymbal crash> "Tormentor".  Because I can, since you ask.

Father Geoghan locked the driver’s door of the Saab and headed indoors, helped by the prospect of  a slice of Mrs. McLunahan’s fruit cake to go with his cup of tea.  The thin sheaf of papers in his briefcase rustled dramatically when he wiped his huge shoes on the doormat.

               ‘I’m home, Mrs. McLunahan!’ he called.  The homely housekeeper came bustling into the hallway to take his coat, and tried to take his briefcase.

               ‘That I’ll keep, thank you,’ he told her.  ‘Private, and confidential, and I shall endure torment if it goes astray.’

               ‘Fine, Father.  I’ve got the tea brewing.  Would you like a slice of cake to go with it?’

               He smiled appreciatively.

               ‘My weakness, Mrs McLunahan, my weakness!  Yes indeed.  Could you bring it to the study? Oh, is Father Escobal still up?  Can you ask him to come to the study, please.’

               The priest turned on his desk lamp in preference to the main lights.  He put on a pair of slippers, sighing in relief at taking off his shoes after all today’s tramping around, then champed down on the stem of his pipe.

               Mrs McLunahan came in with the Filipino priest.

               ‘Hello, Father,’ greeted the younger man.  ‘I’m glad to see you back.  Did er, it all go well?’

               Tactfully, as only the housekeeper to priests of long standing could be, Mrs McLunahan left them to discuss Important Matters in the room.

      Okay, so no spine-tingling horripilation at this point, just be patient, be patient, you'll get it in the end.  By the way, this is roughly half-way there, so your patience and quiet appreciation is noted.  Next!

De Profundis From The Depths

Egad, what was I thinking?  Titling an item with Latin!  ANYWAY I was rather disappointed in reading up on the effects of a thermonuclear detonation at depth in the ocean.  For one thing, the tests were conducted in relatively shallow waters, certainly not at five miles down, as in "The Kraken Wakes".  The incompressibility of water has a severely restrictive effect on the detonation, which means even the very largest warheads would have a comparatively small radius of destruction.

     Bummer.  Of course - obviously! - when I take over we're going to test this in real-life.