The Fairytale Versus Conrad

It's An Uneven Struggle

For what chance has a folk tale versus an unreliable narrator who makes it up as he goes along? except where he faithfully reflects real life of course.  Conrad: reliable and unreliable narrator at the same time.

     Here an aside.  Yes, already!  Art!

     Yes, that's El from "Stranger Things" gorging on Eggos, whatever they are.  Doubtless dreadfully processed South Canadian junk full of cholesterol and saturated fats and sugar AND YET DELICIOUS AS TWINKIES <mournful sigh for the loss of Twinkies>.  I was thinking about the old ecclesiastical poser, 'How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?'   There's nothing about it in my coy of Brewer's, so <hangs head in shame> I resorted to Wiki, which has it that:

In modern usage, the term has lost its theological context and is used as a metaphor for wasting time debating topics of no practical value, or questions whose answers hold no intellectual consequence, while more urgent concerns accumulate

     Sounds like the very definition of BOOJUM! to be honest.  I think the answer was between one and infinity, which is where we come to El and Eggos.

     "How many Eggos can El eat?" is my question instead of angels and habadashery goods.  Whatever your answer is, you are WRONG.  Sorry to be so blunt, but there it is.

     El can eat an infinite number of Eggos, because when she feels full, she simply teleport the contents of her stomach into the nearest waste receptacle and begins again.  I shall not illustrate this because it would be quite disgustrous and off-putting, and we need all the viewers we can muster.  Art?

"El was on her seventh trip to the supermarket"

     ANYWAY none of that has anything to do with "The Red King And The Witch" which folk tale Conrad was relentlessly analysing with all the intellectual rigour he has.

The youngest son arose. 'Father, all hail. Give me also leave to watch the cupboard by night.'

'Go, dear, only don't be frightened with what you see.'

'Be it unto me according to God's will,' said the lad.

And he went and took four needles and lay down with his head on the pillow; and he stuck the four needles in four places. When sleep seized him he knocked his head against a needle, so he stayed awake until ten o'clock. And his sister arose from her cradle, and he saw. And she turned a somersault, and he was watching her. And her teeth became like a shovel and her nails like an axe. And she went to the press and ate up everything. She left the platters bare. And she turned a somersault, and became tiny again as she was; went to her cradle. The lad, when he saw that, trembled with fear; it seemed to him ten years till daybreak. And he arose and went to his father. 'Father, all hail.'

Then his father asked him, 'Didst see anything, Peterkin?'

'What did I see? what did I not see? Give me money and a horse, a horse fit to carry the money, for I am away to marry me.'

His father gave him a couple of sacks of ducats, and he put them on his horse. The lad went and made a hole on the border of the city. He made a chest of stone, and put all the money there and buried it. He placed a stone cross above and departed. And he journeyed eight years and came to the queen of all the birds that fly.

     Bit of an anti-climax, what?  He sees a transformation so terrifying that he undoubtedly needed clean underwear the next day, and yet - he says nothing to his dad?  Indeed, he seeks to extort money from Dad The King on the pretext that he's off to get married, then buries it in a hole?  WoE?  You'll not get compound interest on your capital investment that way, Peterkin, you great big doofus.  Then he goes off on the lash for eight years.  What was he doing, test-driving potential wives and none came up to the mark?  Also, "Queen of all the birds that fly"?  Then there must be a counterpart female monarch for all the flightless birds - you know, the ostrich, the rhea, the cassowary, the kiwi, heck even penguins. 

Loyal subject bowing to Queenie

     Of course I could be overthinking this ...

Bring On "The War Illustrated"

Because I took photos, and if Conrad has gone to the bother of doing that, why, you are certainly going to get to see them.  Art!

     The blurb is far too small to read, so allow me to elucidate.  NO that's not a rude word!  These chaps are from the RAF Regiment, unloading components to construct runways for the Brylcreem Boys.  Once erected NO SNIGGERING AT THE BACK it would be the responsibility of the RAF Regiment to defend said airfield, both from air and ground attack, using light anti-aircraft guns and small arms.  They are still around today, except they tend to use Rapier anti-aircraft missiles rather than flak guns.

For Sale: One Fortress

Being an island, This Sceptred Isle has found it expedient over the centuries to construct various defences out on the briny deeps, the better to keep uninvited visitors in battleships away from the shores.  We've covered the Maunsey Forts several times, as well as Victorian-era sea-forts, and now we come to one that Conrad was unfamiliar with.  Art!

Bull Sand Fort, with puny human for scale

     This splendid construction is now up for sale, at a knock-down price of £50,000.  It needs a LOT of tender loving construction care, being of First Unpleasantness vintage and abandoned since the Fifties.  If Conrad were to win the Euro lottery - an unlikely event since he doesn't participate - then he'd put a bid in.  It would be my real life Evle Layr.  Then, too, I'd need to purchase a boat and helicopter, since there's no other way to get there.  Art!

Home to a million spiders

Continuing With The Conflict Theme

Time to roll out more of "The Sea Of Sand" because nobody's ever bothered to criticise either this or "The Tormentor" so you must all love love love it.  Right?

Both Roger and Sarah looked startled.

‘What!  He’s gone off and left me!’ exclaimed an aggrieved Sarah.

‘Stolen a truck!’ said Roger, wondering with a touch of horror what Captain Dobie would say.  Doubling between the symmetrical maze of stores, he got to the nothern perimeter and looked out across the desert sands. 

No sign of a vehicle’s dust wake there.  Roger ducked back into the supplies, found a robust stack of crates and climbed to the top, suffering several splinters in his haste.

There it was, a trail of dust thrown into the air by a speeding truck, heading – south-east.  Towards the dig at Makan Al-Jinni.

‘Hey – I found this stuck to the next truck,’ panted Sarah, clambering up next to Roger.  She handed him a small yellow square of paper.

“Didn’t want to disturb, borrowed truck, gone to dig, back by dark” had been hastily scribbled in pencil on the paper.

‘Great,’ said Roger bitterly.  ‘Your “companion” holds my future in his hands, Miss Smith.’

Whatever happened to “Sarah”! wondered Sarah.

 

Whistling gaily, the Doctor sped across the flat rock surface, clutching the steering wheel of a “borrowed” Chevrolet 3 tonner and grinding the clutch ferociously when he shifted gears.  Sarah and the young officer were getting on famously, and she’d doubtless pick up all sorts of useful information in passing.  Hardly worth bothering them.

Besides, the mention of missing people, of “disappearances”, bothered him.  Why would labourers on a dig vanish into nowhere without being paid?  Why would soldiers vanish in similar fashion?  Out here there was nowhere to hide or run to.  A soldier might desert to the fleshpots of Cairo or Alexandria if he were near.  Out here there was no such reason.

Vanishing people.  An unidentified energy drain.  No flies. A place with the reputation of being haunted.  What connected them?  For the Time Lords to divert him here, it had to be significant and threatening.

     O it is, Doctor, it most certainly is!

CAUTION! secure against Time Lord theft

Finally -

Here's another question for the ages, with a more definitive answer than Eggos or angels - hey, that sound like a good album title for The Skreeming Voles* - has anyone ever died from eating Ridiculously Hot Chillies?  The short answer is - perhaps.  Several people unwise enough to chow down on Carolina Reaper or Ghost chillies have died, although it has to be noted that they already had serious underlying medical conditions.  Otherwise, if you are a healthy adult, overdoing it can still lead to hospitalisation with serious symptoms and permanent after-effects.  Art!

     Those are Ghost Peppers.  Treat with caution whilst wearing gloves.  Eat the Ghost, but DO NOT become one!

*  I know, I know, we've not mentioned them for years.