Ah, Statistics
As a politician once said, there are lies, there are damned lies - both of which as a politician he would have been intimately familiar with - aha, just looked him up and it was Disraeli, and quantum entanglement theory. Anything to do with quantum mechanics is indistinguishable from magic in Conrad's opinion.
Then we have statistics. One of the more interesting background functions of Blogger is a map of the world that show which nations have the good taste to read your blog, and a head count of these avid readers. Last week Conrad was surprised to find that 40 Ruffians adhered to BOOJUM! which is a small wonder. As for today -
I took a screen Snip this time instead of a photo as the image quality is much better. However, I cannot do that and highlight Ruffian readers, so allow me to inform you that their number has dwindled to 16.
 |
| Looking a bit glum, with reason |
- if they can arrest the head of an FSB branch, perhaps those missing 24 readers were indeed FSB agents monitoring BOOJUM! for 'fake' news, and they've been sent to the gulag, too. Going even further, perhaps all 40 were FSB agents, and 16 have decided that they love BOOJUM! beyond all reason and reading it is worth the risk of deportation to work on the White Sea Canal.
Which is skating perilously close to Politics, so we'll end it there.
The Domestic Schedule
It being Mother's Day, Sal and Tom were going to visit, until Sal began feeling ill, so the rest of us are going to visit her later this afternoon, hence I began BOOJUM! unusually early. Thus I have no idea when this is going to get posted, so you may be reading this at 14:00 or 18:30. Just so you know. Art!
Back in the Any Colour But Natural days
Tempted
Shelli - as you recall, the violin-playing artist with a thing for unicorns - did mention that her BFF Matt - no, not that Matt, this Matt - ran a pub quiz at The Gherkin and ensorcelled me to come and participate.
I know what you're thinking - "Gosh a commute to and from London would be expensive and take at least six hours -" and you'd be WRONG. Art!
The Gherkin The Gherkin
You remember that saying, "Entities should not be multiplied un-necessarily", otherwise known as Occam's Razor? Well, in view of that, which of the above do you think is the more likely prospect. Take your time.
Yes, the one in Levenshulme. Thing is, it would be a three-bus journey to get there, and another similar to return home, and you know First Bus -
 |
| "Cunningly concealed, this bus can thus hide from passengers for hours at a time." |
Which Naturally Led To -
Why is a gherkin named so? It doesn't have an Anglo-Saxon ring to it. Of course Conrad couldn't possibly leave it hanging there, so I did a little digging. And what do you know, it's not derived from Latin <hack spit> or Greek <hack hack spit spit>, but Dutch. From "Gurken", meaning 'A small pickled cucumber'. Art!
Made up of Yum*
We are now better informed than we were five minutes ago.
A Lake Most Lethal
This item is, frankly, morbid, so if you wish to retain the happy buzz from gherkins, best to skip forward a tad.
There is a lake in South Carolina, South Canada, named Lake Keeowee, which cropped up on The Daily Beast, where it reported a death by shooting on the lake. Art!
It so happened that a couple had fallen off their jet-ski, and had neglected to wear life-jackets, and were in imminent peril of drowning (mention was made of alcohol) when an elderly couple puttering about in their boat came to the rescue.
The rescued male then got belligerent, to the extent that his partner pushed him overboard again, probably not improving his temper any. When he got back into the boat the elderly man feared for his life and - remember, South Carolina South Canada - shot the aggressor dead.
The article then said that the lake has a terrible reputation for drownings, making a death by shooting an interesting change. Conrad - you know me - did a bit of digging and found that 32 people have died at this lake over the past 40 years. Art!
Here's one of the reasons
The lake appears to be a destination where people consume lots of alcohol and indulge in stupid activities, like jumping off The Rock above. This seems to be at least 30 feet high, which is the height at which jumping becomes dangerous to health. The lake bottom is also very uneven, with sudden changes in depth that have drowned the unwary who cannot swim and, you guessed it, who don't bother with a life-jacket. There's a reason those things exist.
Lest you be unaware, gentle reader, alcohol and lakes do not mix well, especially if there is activity upon the lake involved in the day's outing.
Now For More Light And Frothy Comedy
I lied. We have another extract from "Tormentor", so ha! If you recall, Luma had been approached by a spirit sent as a warden.
‘Discovered! I’m pleased you picked up on my being an
actress. Honestly, half the spirits
don’t bother about what you did as a mortal, and the others try to make it into
a good thing.’
He started walking again, with
Yvonne walking alongside him.
‘Why haven’t you Moved On?’ he
asked, having come to accept the capitalised event. ‘The Prof claims to be able to help people
like me, which is his reason. I wish
he’d just give me a book.’
‘Ooh. D’you know, that’s a good idea. Why remain here?’ she made a curious sound, a cross between a
sigh and a giggle. ‘Because in life I
was a fearfully shallow and superficial girl.
Quite hateful, really. Hopefully
doing good deeds will count for me.’
Getting into Heaven? wondered
Louis. So, if your past life as a mortal
was insufficiently good to allow passage into the hallowed realms, you could
try doing good deeds here amongst mortals.
‘I realise why Morgan and his ilk
– to use the Prof’s language – remain earthbound. Their destination is going to be the hot
place if they move on.’
The spirit shuddered briefly.
‘Please, don’t talk about those
creatures.’
Louis remained silent whilst a
couple went past him, arm-in-arm and giving him a quick, measuring glance. Yvonne sighed again, looking at the departing
couple.
‘I miss that. Here.’
She linked her arm in his. ‘So we
walk at the same pace.’
Strangely, Louis enjoyed the
feeling. The old familiar electric
tingle was muted by his clothing and he took care to keep his bracelet covered.
‘I think I miss it, too,’ he said
quietly. Confessing an emptiness in his
life to a strange spirit he’d only just met was peculiar, admittedly. ‘I cut myself off from everyone after my wife
and daughter died and only Jen kept me involved. Then she gets taken, too.’
Yvonne nodded sympathetically.
Finally -
We are well over the Compositional Ton, so I shall have to be brief here. I've already mocked Tsar Poutine, so instead I shall observe an observation from the BBC's Live page about The 'Special' But Not In The Way It Was Meant Military Operation. It seems the Ruffian air force is so scared of the still-intact Ukrainian air-defence network that they avoid flying into Uke airspace for fear of being shot down; this is a consequence of inexperienced pilots barely knowing where the "On" switch is. ANYWAY they are launching missiles from within Ruffia, which according to the South Canadians, have a failure rate of 60%. It isn't clear if these are being shot down or are simply duds that don't work after having not been maintained for 18 months, where 'maintenance' amounts to hitting them with a spanner. Probably a combination of both. Art!
The mighty Ruffian air force - both planes - takes to the skies
And having made Dimya weep into his shchi, we are done.
* We will NOT be using the repellent appellation 'nom nom' here
No comments:
Post a Comment