Myth Versus Math

Don't Worry, This Isn't Yesteryon's Blog Backwards

I wonder, would people read such a thing?  Conrad is unaware of any Blogger app or function that would post an entire post backwards, so he'd have to do it the hard way, one word at a time and reading from the bottom of the previous day's post upwards.  Time-consuming, to say the least, and one wonders if the shizzles and giggles would be worth it.

     Okay, we have to find a way to shoe-horn "Stranger Things" in here, because if I can possibly piggy-back to success on it's coat-tails (yes yes yes I know I'm mixing metaphors, sue me if you like) then I shall.

     But first I must put that lemon sole in the oven!  Be right back -

     Art!

The myth

The math

     That second one's a bit blurry, so allow me to point out that it's Eddie Munson versus one hundred and fifty thousand biting bats as big as cats.  

     ANYWAY none of this has anything to do with "The Red King And The Witch" which is that ghastly folk-tale that probably gave nightmares to whole generations of Victorian-era schoolchildren.  Let us have the next extract, showcasing the immodest and time-wasting Peterkin.

Then what said his horse to him? 'Master, whip me four times, and twice yourself, for you are come to the Plain of Regret. And Regret will seize you and cast you down, horse and all. So spur your horse, escape, and tarry not.'

He came to a hut. In that hut he beholds a lad, as it were ten years old, who asked him, What seekest thou, Peterkin, here?'

I seek the place where there is neither death nor old age.'

The lad said, 'Here is neither death nor old age. I am the Wind.'

Then Peterkin said, 'Never, never will I go from here.' And he dwelt there a hundred years and grew no older.

There the lad dwelt, and he went out to hunt in the Mountains of Gold and Silver, and he could scarce carry home the game.

Then what said the Wind to him? 'Peterkin, go unto all the Mountains of Gold and unto the Mountains of Silver; but go not to the Mountain of Regret or to the Valley of Grief.'

He heeded not, but went to the Mountain of Regret and

p. 61

the Valley of Grief. And Grief cast him down; he wept till his eyes were full.

And he went to the Wind. 'I am going home to my father, I will not stay longer.'

     What, NOW the horse chooses to speak?  You took your own sweet time, Dobbin, you might well be the same beastie that set out with Peterkin sixteen years ago (Conrad has no idea what horse lifetimes are like).  Actually this reminds me of one of my favourite characters from "Judge Dredd" Henry Ford the talking horse.  Art!

     Henry, as you may realise, can not only speak but is also a bit of a smartbottom, with an intellect easily matching that of a human, so one wonders why he's stuck in a menial job out in the Cursed Earth?

   ANYWAY once again we wonder at Peterkin, who seems to believe any old guff that people tell him.  "I am the Wind", hmmm?  Last I checked The Wind didn't resemble a ten-year old boy.  Also, these folk-tales would be over pretty quickly if their protagonist didn't behave like an idiot.  STAY AWAY! warns The Wind.  DO NOT ENTER! he might well have added, and even DANGER!  DANGER, WILL ROBINSON! for all the good it does.

     Nope, there goes Peterkin, who then decides to throw one hundred years of good clean living out of the window and venture home.  Apparently The Wind lacked any kind of artefact for tracing the passage of time, such as a diary or calendar, because Peterkin - who seems but lightly endowed with intellect - has NO IDEA how long he's been there.  Yes yes yes, we're told a hundred years - remember this for later consumption.

DANGER MRS. ROBINSON!

     Pretty sure I'm not over-thinking this.  Not today.

We Looks -

At books.  Yes, this is the next (and last) collection of Commonwealth writers as mentioned by the BBC, and today I've taken the trouble to read the synopses that go with them.

2012-2021

 

Our Lady of the Nile - Scholastique Mukasonga (2012, Rwanda)

The Luminaries - Eleanor Catton (2013, New Zealand)

Behold the Dreamers - Imbolo Mbue (2016, Cameroon)

The Bone Readers - Jacob Ross (2016, Grenada)

How We Disappeared - Jing-Jing Lee (2019, Singapore)

Girl, Woman, Other - Bernardine Evaristo (2019, England)

The Night Tiger - Yangsze Choo (2019, Malaysia)

Shuggie Bain - Douglas Stuart (2020, Scotland)

A Passage North - Anuk Arudpragasam (2021, Sri Lanka)

The Promise - Damon Galgut (2021, South Africa)

OLOTN is set in pre-genocide Rwanda and seems to be an exploration of the fault-lines that existed and spread before that dreadful event.  TL seems to be a combination of period thriller and ghost story, might have to investigate further.  BTD is Cameroonians adrift in New York as financial crisis hits, TBR is a murder mystery definitely not set in Grenada, HWD seems a bit of an historical bore, terribly worthy and all that, just dull.  GWO is set in the UK, immediately disinterested thanks to lack of glamourous setting.  TNG sounds more like it, set in Malaysia with were-tigers and missing fingers.  SB - nope, grim Glaswegian kitchen-sink drama ("Shuggie" being Scots dialect for "Hugh") not wanted here.  APN is, with horrible irony, about Sri Lanka and the past civil war, definitely an uncomfortable read given what the country and people are undergoing now.  TP is a contemporary South African novel that, inevitably, has to deal with the fall-out from apartheid.  Art!

The Sri Lankan flag.  With a tiger.  Or - maybe a lion?

   

      <wallet squeaks in anguish>

Annnnnnd Back To "The Sea Of Sand"

If you recall AND YOU BETTER HAD The Doctor had - er - 'borrowed' some army transport in order to visit the dig at Makkin Al-Jinni.  I mean, if you can hop around the cosmos in time and space, who can possibly begrudge you a mere truck?

The man in the middle, a gangling, freckled redhead, suddenly produced a revolver and pointed it directly at the Doctor’s forehead.

‘An Italian spy!’ he said, sounding immensely pleased with himself.  The third man, who resembled an amiable pudding, rolled his eyes in exasperation and hit the redhead on the foot with a spade.

‘Idiot!’ he spat, with a pronounced French accent.  ‘Put down the gun.’  He bowed to the Doctor.

‘Professor Borguebus.  The hasty gentleman here is our idiot assistant, whom the Captain Dobbey saw fit to give a gun to.  Albert, a spy does not walk up to those he spies upon.’

Gratified at encountering a civil face, the Doctor nodded enthusiastically.

‘I happened to get diverted to Mersa Martuba – transport difficulties – and heard about your excavation from Lieutenant Llewellyn.  He piqued my interest, and here I am.’

Professor Templeman’s brows drew together, in much the same way a storm cloud gathered.

‘Those wretches in the Army!  They arrange to send the boy to the desert because of his experience, and fail to use him – stick him in a supply dump.  Not only that, he is only ten miles away from the dig he helped with and yet cannot come here.  Outrageous!’

     Ah, Prof, Prof.  Nobody ever accused a nation's armed forces of being sensible, did they?

The ugly, indestructible, indefatigable Marmon-Herrington armoured car

Eye In The Sky

Once more we refer to the James Webb Space Telescope and it's first batch of photographs.  For those of you unaware, the JWST is going to take over the work of Hubble, which must be coming to the end of it's design life, poor thing.  JWST is designed to operate in the infra-red wavelengths, rather than visible light, so it can see a lot further and with an enormously increased amount of detail.  Art!

     This is probably the most iconic Hubble photograph it ever took - the "Pillars Of Creation" in the Eagle Nebula.  To the right is the same region but taken in the infra-red spectrum.  The JWST hasn't been pointed at this area yet, but it will be one day, and to illustrate just how much more detail will be gleaned - Art?

     Get used to science nerds geeking out over this.  A lot.

Finally -

Good lord it's hot today!  Your Humble Scribe walked up to the shops to see if they sold coffee-bags, because otherwise I am reduced to instant and my palate has been spoiled SPOILED I TELL YOU by consuming coffee made with bags not horrid cheap instant muck.  No, they did not have any.  No, I am not walking down to Royton in this heat, which must be similar to that encountered by The Doctor above.  The struggle is reel, folks.