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Tuesday, 31 January 2023

Just Imagine

You May - Or May Not - Be Aware

That this Thursday is Groundhog Day, one of those peculiar traditions that the South Canadians like to indulge in to prove that they can be as quirky and twee as we here in This Sceptred Isle, except let's see you better Cheese Rolling pal.  Art!

"Excuse me, sir, but do you have a licence?  And what about you, Bill?"

     If you haven't seen 'Groundhog Day' the film then THE EXIT DOOR IS THAT WAY!  Go out and watch it NOW!

     ANYWAY the idea is that if a groundhog comes out of his burrow and is able to see his shadow, then winter will continue for another six weeks.  If, on the other hand (or paw) he comes out of his burrow and cannot see his shadow thanks to the overcast, spring will come soon.

     The splendidly-named town where this event takes place on February 2nd is Punxsutawney, and it is to this bucolic town and event that Phil Connors, Bill's cynical and worldly character, is sent to in order to cover the event on that day.

     Repeatedly.

     Forsooth! Phil is stuck in a time-loop and condemned to relive 2nd February endlessly, even when he goes to extremes and kills himself.  Art!

Cholesterol, Phil, cholesterol

     After all, if there are no consequences to your actions, what's to stop you going utterly berserk?

     Phil, of course, is saved by the love of a good groundhog Sorry - woman, a good woman, because when they indulge in hinted hanky-panky, the loop is broken and Phil and Rita move on.

     Conrad, of course, had to wander and wonder what other works of fiction have incorporated people running in a time-loop, and came up with a few suggestions.  Firstly, of course - obviously! - recalled by the phrase itself, there is 'Looper', a fine sci-fi thriller.  Art!


     Here the titular 'loopers' are assassins who kill victims of future crime syndicates, since getting rid of bodies in the future is practically impossible.  The victims are 'looped' backward in time to the near future, where they get killed.  The grim twist is that any looper who lives to old age is looped themselves, closing it.  Thus Young Joe and Old Joe come face-to-face.

     Less obviously, there is also "Edge Of Tomorrow" where Tom Cruise's character, thanks to a little plot-fu, gets a wretched variety of immortality - if he dies he immediately wakes up alive again, beginning his day at Heathrow Airport in an alien-triggered loop.  Art!


     The kicker here is that he's an utter coward who wilfully resists getting put in dangerous situations, because - sensible chap - he will very probably get killed.

     Here's another, more obscure one: "The Stainless Steel Rat Saves The World" by Harry Harrison.  James Bolivar DiGriz is a futuristic criminal, who lies, steals, robs banks and generally indulges in skullduggery, yet with a strong moral compass.  He makes a terrific anti-hero as a contrast to all those slab-jawed policemen of the future who have all the personality of a milk loaf.  Art!

Harry, a talented cartoonist, drew this cover design himself

     In this novel Jim's employers, the Special Corps, are being directly targeted by the Evil 'He', who intends to wipe them all out by manipulating time and take over.  Well, he doesn't, and a time-loop has something to do with it.

     '2000AD' did a very entertaining adaptation of the novel, and they must have had HH's permission to do so.  I wonder if Art -

     That's He to port, Angelina and Jim to starboard, and yes, she is a lot more capable with a gun than Jim is, and much more ruthless, too.  In the background you can see the chaos that mucking around with time causes.

     Hmmmm we're already at well over 600 words and I've got still more stuff about time-loops - of course - obviously! - 'Doctor Who' is going to feature, but let's postpone that until tomorrow, because we don't want to be caught in a time-loop ourselves, do we?

Lord Peter's Very Vexatious Crossword

I dunno.  What on earth could TOB be?  Okay, okay, let's indulge in another mysterious and obscurantist 'clue' from Ol' Dot.  " 'Lions,' said a Gallic critic, "Are not these.  Benevolent souls - they'd make your hearts blood freeze (5)."

     The solution?  MANES.

     O!  There's an explanation in the Notes, which must mean Dot realised how incredibly cryptic and hard to solve this one was.  'Un lion est une machiore et non pas une criniere' - Emile Faguet in "Lit. du XVII siecle".  Manes: spirits of the benevolent dead.

     I see.  Google!  "A lion is a machiore and not a mane"

     I'm glad we cleared that one up!  Art?



"The Sea Of Sand"

As we have seen, the overbearing feudal civilisation on the bio-vores home planet is beginning to experience unusual stresses and tensions, partly because of the Doctor's malicious interference with a culture he plainly loathed.

The far side of the incline ran downhill in a long curve, along a stretch of the sea that came inland, running over a bridge of granite blocks.  Clusters of Farmers could be seen wading in the shallows, bringing in scoops and nets of algae for processing.  One or two waved at the sled as it passed, unusually daring in that it meant ignoring the incessant demands of the job for a few seconds.

          ‘I feel we are on the brink of great things!’

  

A sombre party of three men buried the body of Sergente Capriccio behind the mud huts, alongside the larger graves dug for the soldiers killed days before.  Roger took an identity tag from beneath the NCO’s blouse, intending to pass it on to Tenete Dominione.

          ‘Come on,’ he said, despondently.  ‘You can’t bring him back, Doctor.’

          It took a sharp tug on Doctor Smith’s arm to move him from the grave.  Roger wanted them loaded up and out of the depot before any more monsters arrived, and they’d need all hands to shift crates and boxes.  He left them, to return at the wheel of their Sahariana.

          The young officer’s knowledge of the depot proved vital, since he knew exactly where to locate the wooden crates storing Italian salvage, and where a one ton crane was stored.  Both crates they wanted were, inevitably, underneath a collection of others, and the whole thing draped in camouflage netting.  Roger used the Sahariana’s bonnet-mounted winch to drag the netting off, then handed out a pair of long levers

     Gloves, too, one hopes.  Seriously, getting splinters risks a wound becoming a festering sore in the desert environment.


Shazam

This is a jolly handy little app and I wish I'd had it twenty years earlier.  Mind you in the office having your mobile phone out when Lauren (office manager) is in is Not The Done Thing.

     Nevertheless I have discovered a few more tracks by artists I was unaware of.  Inhaler, for example.  "Cheer Up Baby" made Conrad sit up and pay attention, because here's an unapologetically guitar-based band ABOUT TIME IN THE OFFICE NOT ENOUGH GUITAR IF YOU ASK ME.  Art!



Finally -

Last day at MULYSATOOF tomorrow, and I won't miss eleven-hour days, nor leaving the house when it's dark and not getting back to The Mansion when it's dark.  I will miss Tony's Extra-Large Doner Kebabs, which are good enough to make special bus pilgrimage in future ...




I Thinks - Of Links

Blimey, We're Under The Whip Tonight

Your Humble Scribe has this collection of links to get together and then put out, and will have to plough into tomorrow's blog tonight, and needs a shower and scrap, all on top of making lunch for tomorrow and getting scoff tonight.  Nor have I kept up with the news today, so there are probably fresh horrors abroad in the world.  On top of which we have "Sherlock Holmes Short Stories" which is ridiculously addictive, almost as much as Quora.  Art!


     That's click-baity enough in itself.

2022

BOOJUM!: Take AIM (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2021

BOOJUM!: Hill Of The King (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2020

BOOJUM!: Never Trust The Quiet Man (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2019

BOOJUM!: The Big Queasy (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2018

BOOJUM!: Sandy Shore (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2017

BOOJUM!: HAIL! To Our (Robotic) Overlords (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2016

BOOJUM!: The Blood Beast Terror! (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2015

BOOJUM!: A Plurality Of Pix (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2014

BOOJUM!: A Grey Day (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)







Monday, 30 January 2023

Limbo

The Word Just Popped Into My Head At Lunchtime Today

You know, the way words tend to do so.  I have also decided to use a cunning bit of click-baitiness <tweaks moustache ends>, which, if Art will put down his plate of coal -


     They feature in a kind of limbo, doncha know.  Where are they?  Dunno.  When are they?  Dunno either.  Are they still alive?  Good question, dunno the answer.

     ANYWAY I have just discovered a rather aged computer game that calls itself "Limbo of the Lost", whose plot revolves around Captain Briggs - you know, captain of the 'Mary Celeste' exploring Limbo.  Art!


     Typically we interpret Limbo today as being in an unwanted intermediate position without the ability to progress either forward or backward.  However, for some people it has a real theological meaning, as they describe Limbo as being the land where unbaptised babies go when they die, and whose principal population are the morally sound people who died before Jesus appeared.  The word, of course - obviously! - has a Latin root, that being 'Limbus' meaning 'Edge' as in the land being at the edge of Hell.

     Perhaps the most infamous (manufactured) Limbo is the Bermuda Triangle, and O what do we have here?  Art!

Utter twaddle

     Larry Kusche debunked the Triangle myths a good 45 years ago, but of course there's no money in deflating a piece of fiction that puts food on the table for those authors with low enough morals to put pen to paper.  A few of these people, anxious to include as many ships in 'Limbo' as possible, increase the Triangle until it becomes a parallelogram (not a word you expected to see today) that occupies most of the North Atlantic.  That, chaps, is cheating.

     "But why is it not a Limbo, Conrad?  Tell us!  WE MUST KNOW!"

     First of all, the statistics for sinkings and vanishings are no higher than any similar stretch of well-used ocean, for these waters are busy busy busy.  Marine insurance does not suddenly increase for ships travelling in the Triangle, which is significant because the South Canadians like squeezing money out of people.

     Second, there are frequent tropical storms and hurricanes.  These can sink ships.  Who knew!  Art!

Bermuda, meet Gonzalo

     Third, many of the ships that vanished or sank before the advent of radio-telegraphy could have sunk anywhere en route, without being able to give a position fix.  

     Fourth, some of the alleged marine victims are completely fictional.  

     Gosh, it's enough to dent your faith in human nature.

     Talking of fiction, '2000AD' and it's sister publication 'Starlord' occasionally featured the Bermuda Triangle as a limbo of sorts.  Art!


     This was in the early days when stories could be exceedingly silly.  I forget how this one gets resolved, but don't worry, John Probe a.k.a. MACH 1, will have seen to the miscreants.  Art!

     I think the background to this one is that a plane full of passengers crash-lands through a one-way portal in the Bermuda Triangle, ending up on the titular POTD.  Said Planet is inhabited by hostile monsters and other hapless humans who have also stumbled through the portal.  Basically everything there wants to kill you or eat you or kill and then eat you.  Art!

     There, we ended up in a proper limbo, didn't we?

     No!  The ridiculously contortive dance is derived from the word 'Limber', because that's what you jolly well have to be in order to manage it.  Art!


    I have no idea what it is or what it means, just that it's good to finish on a rhyme.


Another Touch Of Sophis

Hmmm and once again we see a difference in how Korean is translated.  We've already encountered 'J' instead of 'CH' and 'K' instead of 'G' and now - my Korean history book describes this site as 'Pulguk Temple'.  What does teh interwebz have to say?  Why, the term 'Bulguk'.  Art!

PULGUK Temple, ta very much

     This is part of the temple complex, which was built in the mid-eighth century and is regarded as one of the prime examples of Buddhist architecture of the Silla period.  Okay, that's enough sophis.


More Of Lord P's Crossword

I've got no idea about this one, so let's just get it over and done with.  The 'clue' is: "Add it among the hidden things, A fishy tale to light it brings (3)."

     You'll never get it because I didn't.  The answer is "TOB"

     Is it an acronym?  because we've already had those, which is frankly cheating on Dot's part.  Hang on, let us Google. Art!


     Still none the wiser.


"The Sea Of Sand"

A brace of the bio-vore peasant class known as 'Farmers' but whom act as general dogsbodies are having a conversation about current affairs, off on their home planet informally known as 'Wasteworld', which isn't quite a limbo, not yet.

‘Sur is in trouble himself, anyway.  I hear that the other aristos along the coast are thinking of a prosecution,’ said the younger bio-vore.

          ‘Because that alien escaped?’

          ‘The heretic, too.  Do you know, they escaped using a bone prosthesis.  Made out of metal.’

          ‘Well, that’s those from five thousand years ago for you.  More metal around for working with.’

          ‘And, just think, those detention cells were sat underneath Sur’s castle.  Not off in the Wastes.’

          Imgelissa stopped, suddenly taken aback.  Nurbonissa carried on towing for a second, until drag stoped him, too.

          ‘What?  What is it?’ he asked, looking around in alarm.

          Imgelissa took up the traces again.

          ‘Just think about what we just said.  How come we know so much about high politics and the inner workings of an aristocrats castle?’

          The younger bio-vore wondered silently, then gave up.

          ‘Leaks.  Rumours.  Information passed along.  The Overseers aren’t able to stop rumours starting any longer.  Farmers actually saw and talked to the alien escapee – me being one of them.’

          A steep incline loomed and conversation stopped whilst they hauled the heavy sled.

          ‘What did this mysterious alien say?’

          ‘He warned that the time of the Warriors is nearly over, that the aristocrats are going to fall, and a time of freedom from fear is at hand.’

     Typical Doctor, hmmm?  Stirring up trouble wherever he goes.


"The War Illustrated"

I think we're nearly at the end of the curated photographs I've taken from the latest edition, so lets bring up a news item not often covered by the press, because it's not that common.  Art!


     These are ex-prisoners-of-war, who have been released from captivity in Italy as the Allies invaded and moved north.  The official recommendation had been for these men to stay in camp until liberated, which allowed the Teutons to take them into their un-gentle clutches.  Quite a few ignored this advice and escaped into the Italian countryside, where they joined partisan groups fighting both the Teutons and the rump Fascist state.

     Whilst the chaps here are immensely pleased to be home, the hale and hearty amongst them can look forward to being returned to the parent units and back into battle again.


Finally -

Did I explain that Sunday wasn't my last day temping at Footasylum?  Luckily I checked before heading home that it was, indeed, my last day.

     Not so, I am there until COB on Wednesday, which deflated me a little as I'd been looking forward to a Monday morning lie-in, and a  pot of tea whilst putting another load of scrivel together.  O well, more money - or at least it will be if I get my timesheet in.





Hmmm Time To Cheat

In Both Senses Of The Word

Forsooth, for I am going to post another load of links in order to try and ginger up the traffic figures, which have suffered due to me working Saturdays and Sundays and thus not doing two posts per day.  And other such shizzle that you're probably not interested in hearing.

     I have about fifteen minutes longer to compose this because the 409 bus came either fifteen minutes early - which is howlingly unlikely - or ten minutes late, which I find far easier to believe.  Okay, first the clickbait.  Art!


     Excellent for the young lady!  We here at BOOJUM! really believe in people bettering themselves.  She should probably have put a jacket on, mind.  Because her arms might get cold, before you ask.

2022

BOOJUM!: Release The Kraken! (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2021

BOOJUM!: Feeling A Little Saw (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2020

BOOJUM!: Quiver With Fear - (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2019

BOOJUM!: Send My Giro To Cairo - (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2018

BOOJUM!: A Game Of Throngs (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2017

BOOJUM!: It's A Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad World (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2016

BOOJUM!: Coldfinger (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2015

BOOJUM!: It Is No Coincidence - (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2014

BOOJUM!: No Problems With Traffic (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)









Sunday, 29 January 2023

Constructive Cruelty

Yes, There Is Such A Thing

One person who conducted it on a regular basis was Vlad Tepes, whom you might be more familiar with as Vlad The Impaler.  O what a lad he was.  The one activity he loved above all else was impaling people, and I mean, every man's got to have a hobby.  Art!


     That's a pretty serious moustache statement.  Go on, tell him that his long hair makes him look like a sissy, I dare you.

     ANYWAY at one mass impaling - the trick was not to kill people immediately but have them experience as much suffering as possible, because medieval barbarity* - one of his noble kinsmen protested about the smell, which was A Very Bad Idea because that meant you were indirectly criticising Vlad, a chap with a big ego and a bigger temper.

     So!  He had the noble kinsman impaled, on a stake significantly higher than those of the hoi polloi - to keep him away from their frightful odour.

I'm keeping this small for a reason

     Don't confuse him with Vlad the Impala, who lives at Whipsnade Zoo and is a gentle and lovable creature.  Art!


     ANYWAY Conrad has another tale of torrid <thinks> tumultuousness thanks to Youtube, and a Commentary on another's tale.  These are often just as interesting as the Original Poster's vlog, and this one was no exception.

     Picture the scene: the aftermath of an office Christmas party.  Original Poster is a Designated Driver and thus utterly sober, and has a group of people in his car that he's dropping off, one by one.

     The last person is a - well, let's call her a female, because she was no lady, and indeed probably has DNA from yesteryon's 'Trailer Camp Tramp'.  She makes a play for OP, apparently desperate for a bit of <ahem> rumpy-pumpy, only to be shot down.  OP tactfully neglects to mention if she's hot or not or even if he's straight or not.


     Next day - O what a surprise.  Conniving Female makes allegations of extreme and unwanted and entirely non-consensual hanky-panky.  Because, you see, she and OP are going for the same promotion.

     Ooops.

     You see, OP had internal cameras in his car, and he shared their recordings with everyone who heard the dastardly allegations, which shot the whole sordid saga down in a single morning.  CF was demoted, not fired, and OP got the promotion.

     Imagine OP's relish when CF is assigned to his team.  He won't recommend she be fired, because for the next three years he has her doing all the vilest admin functions there are to be found**, whilst making it seem that these tasks are being equally shared.  I told you, constructive cruelty.  And CF has to suck it up and stick it out since she couldn't afford to resign.  Art!

"You have a 16,000 line spreadsheet to check.  In bright red font on a dayglo green background."


Lord Peter's Crossword

Don't fret so, we're about three-quarters of the way through, and just think of all the interesting Latin and Greek and biblical knowledge you're acquiring!

  Let's look at the next - er - 'clue'.  

     "We heap up many with toil and trouble. And find that the whole of our gain is a bubble (3)."

     Are you ready for the answer?

     SUD

     That is, the singular of SUDS, which is a bit of a cheat, since whomever washed the dishes and found only a single bubble present?

There are 67 here.  Go on, count them!

Apparently I Erred

No!  Not about thermonuclear weapons design - as if!  My temporary employment end date.  Conrad was convinced it was 13/01/2023, until informed that, no, it was 29/01/2023 - yesteryon.  Until, upon enquiring further, it turns out to be 01/02/2023.

     Which means no lie-in on the 30th, and a need to perform ablutions on the evening of the 29th.

     MULYSATOOF you are on notice.


"The Sea Of Sand"

And we whiz back once again to the bio-vore's home planet, dubbed 'Wasteworld' by the Doctor, because it is.

Twenty One:  Boxing Clever

 

Unlikely as it might seem, Farmer Imgelissa had again been paired with Nurbonissa to haul bottled algae.  That made at least a dozen times the duo had been allocated to each other, something that would not normally have been tolerated, let alone repeated.  Allowing a rapport to develop between the Farmers was frowned upon by the Overseers.  Somebody wasn’t paying attention to schedules.

          Imgelissa waited until the sled was well on its way before broaching the subject of Warrior awakenings.  He didn’t want anyone overhearing things, not if it could be avoided.

          ‘So, you’ve heard about Sur petioning for more Warriors to be woken? What do you think of that?’

          Nurbonissa wasn’t stupid or slow.

          ‘One of two things.  Either so many Warriors have been lost in this adventure that replacements are needed urgently, or the target world has such an abundance of resources that more help is needed to cope with it.’

          Imgelissa snorted in disbelief.  More help indeed!

          ‘Can you see Warriors undertaking menial work like collecting minerals or live flora?  If bio-morphic resources were there, we’d be there too, harvesting.’

          “Pillaging” would be nearer the truth, if I were being completely honest.  “Harvesting” is too tame a word.  Target World Seventeen will be drained dry once we arrive in force, turned into a bad copy of Homeworld.

          They dragged the sledge in silence, both thinking.

     Hmmm it seems that things are brewing under the surface, and they're not things that the bio-vore aristocracy would like or endorse.


Conrad Is Unsure

As you should surely know by now, Your Humble Scribe is a very sad man, who spends long minutes in the beer, wines and spirits section of Morrisons, seeing if there are any interesting cans or bottles that might serve to provide blog content.  I did discover one such recently and haven't brought it into the cold hard light of day until now.  Art!


     I have no idea what 'Tiny Rebel' is or was, nor why they chose a numerical title for their ale, unless it was because it's pretty close to 'SOS', which isn't really a positive association you want people to make with your beer.  'Drink this and die!' doesn't really have a lot of advertising merit.

     I'll let you know when I drink it.


I Say Jay

Conrad is unsure if this will work or not, here goes anyways.  You may recall that I was trying to manifest an air of sophistication by looking at early medieval Korean architecture, and failed to find any "Chongnim Temple"?  I suspected the problem might be in translation from Korean to English, so I tried 'Jongnim Temple' and got a few hits under 'Jeongnim Temple'.  Art!


     We even have a puny human for scale!  So glad of that, they've been missing from other architectural posts here.  This site is definitely in Korea and appears to have been constructed in the seventh century AD, celebrating the victory of the Chinese Tang and Korean Silla dynasties over the local Baekje kingdom.  Note that it is made out of stone, rather then the more traditional wood, which is probably why it's still around.  Pretty elegant, hmmm?


     And with that, Vulnavia, we are done.  DONE!


*  European civilisation, hmmm?

**  Probably data-cleansing gigantic Excel spread-sheets.  I've done this and it's miserable.

Sunday's Sternward Sojourn

Good Evening!

Well it's not, really, in fact the only way it could be worse is if it were raining.  Or if the Zombie Apocalypse arrived.  Or - horrors! - both at once.  

     Okay, tonight being a Sunday, the bus comes about ten minutes earlier than during the rest of the week, whoopee!  Ah - but - and there is always a 'but' - I have a 25 minute walk for a service that comes at 29 minutes past the hour, so Conrad power-walks the instant he leaps from his (somewhat battered) office chair.  Tonight as I neared the bus stop I confirmed the dark dank news that Tony's is shut on a Sunday evening, so no Killer Kebabs.  Moreover there was a great big hole dug just short of the bus stop, making me wonder if it was out of use and I'd have to sprint to another one -

     Fortunately not.  Art!  Clickbait please!


     Hmmm makes one wonder about 'fast women'.  Conrad also assumes that 'tramp' in South Canada is a little different from our definition here in This Sceptred Isle.

     ANYWAY on with Sunday's links

2022

BOOJUM!: False Advertising, Zombies And The Coincidence Hydra (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

BOOJUM!: Apeeling (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2021

BOOJUM!: Sound Affects (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

(no idea what happened to Friday 29th)

2020

BOOJUM!: More Of Mars (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2019

BOOJUM!: A Fifteen-Year Recap (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2018

BOOJUM!: Black Sabbath (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2017

BOOJUM!: Much Tang Dally (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2016

BOOJUM!: Einstein A GoGo! (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2015

BOOJUM!: A Bit Mediterranean Today (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2014

BOOJUM!: Did I Say Terpsichore? I Meant Thalia (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)


     







Saturday, 28 January 2023

It'll All End In Tears

 Said Conrad, Shaking His Head

Okay, when I worked at Sainsbo's HR, my first manager was a chap we shall inelegantly call 'Gazza'.  He was a delight to work for, even when he warned us temps that we'd be out before Christmas - that was in July.  Hmmm and yet there I was five years later ...

     ANYWAY he had an interesting surname which I am not going to enlighten you with, and I did one of my Pome's for his leaving, which amused and alarmed people in equal amounts - that big fat churlish cove in the corner had a way with words!  Gazza had a side-gig doing voice work, kinda like Alan Tudyk in a smaller way.  Art!

MINUTE'S SILENCE FOR HOBAN. TA.

     That's Alan Tudyk.  Not Gazza.  Didn't want to confuse you.

     Gazza also used to holiday in British America a lot.  You don't especially need a reason, British America a.k.a. 'Canada' is an enormous country with a wonderful population that embodies all that is good about South Canada and This Sceptred Isle combined.  Also they are loyal subjects of Queenie - sorry were loyal subjects of Queenie - now loyal subjects of Kingy.  Don't forget, after This Sceptred Isle declared war against the Teutons last century, the Canuckistanians were mere seconds behind*.  

     Of late, Gazza has been vacationing in Vancouver.  Art!


     Vancouver, in the province of BRITISH Columbia.  So as not to confuse it with the South Canadian District of Columbia, I expect.  Or Columbia itself.

     ANYWAY Ol' G was going on about driverless trains.  I can tell what you're thinking and WRONG.  Art!


     You are thinking in 20th century terms, matey.  It's 2023.  Flying cars are just around the corner (so I've been told and "The Jetsons" never lies).  Art!


     This service began operating in 2016 and has a perfect operational record; the only accidents recorded are those in the maintenance depot when human drivers make a mistake.  Gazza reports that they are punctual to the second.

     Excuse me, but where have I heard this before?

    O, that's right, when Cyberdyne automates all South Canadian bombers and flies them with an <ahem> perfect operational record.  Skynet is put in charge of said bombers and the South Canadian nuclear arsenal; human beings are taken out of the decision loop.  Skynet becomes self-aware and moves from being a servant to an aspiring master, and then you get Judgement Day.

     Believe me, these driverless trains are the thin end of the wedge.

Also, they have detailed files

Not Quite Inexplicable

One of the fun things about paleontology is the sheer weirdness of life-forms that existed in Earth's historical record that we have fossil evidence of.  I seem to remember a relatively small lizard with a disproportionally long neck that had very few bones in it, meaning it was pretty clumsy.  Perhaps it snatched it's prey as they stood laughing at it?

     ANYWAY I came across another Youtuber who was pontificating about the "Tully Monster", a creature I'd never heard of before.  Art!

"Tullimonstrum"

     Bizarre, yes.  Impossible, no, because we have fossil records for this peculiar beastie.  Quite where it falls in the phylae is a hotly-debated topic, with various allocations to molluscs (shellfish), arthropods (spiders), worms (squiggly slimy things) and vertebrates (bony dudes).  Also 'conodonts', which I've never heard of and which sounds vaguely rude, so we won't be going there.  Art!

It's also only a foot long, so not exactly a 'monster'

In The Soup

Conrad had a load of remaindered soya pieces, and a pack of spinach, and a pack of bean sprouts to either cook or chuck, so I chose to go with the 'Seoultown Kitchen' solution and make 'Simply Udon', which is a Korean soup.  I halved the quantities because originally it was for four people and greedy as I am that's a bit much to inhale in a single take.  Art!


     The recipe adds half a hard-boiled egg, which I did.  Not bad, although I did add a teaspoon of sesame oil, because I like the smell and savour that this gives to the end product.  Konrad's Korean Kuisine Kontinues**!


"The Sea Of Sand"

The Doctor has been interrogating one of the alien bio-vores, who displays exactly zero empathy or remorse, which is yet another prod from the author as regards how you see the aliens.  Said the author.

The Doctor landed badly, the wind knocked out of him.  Capriccio lay over him, as protection from the bio-vore – no, that wasn’t right, the Sergente wasn’t moving.  What felt wet?

Tam cocked his tommy-gun too late and too slow, as the bio-vore surged to it’s feet, knocking the corporal flat with one blow of it’s brawny arm.  The alien took a single step towards the helpless Doctor before Roger put the Bren gun to his shoulder and began to fire, bursts of three rounds, the bullets making a hideous smacking sound when they hit home.  The impact knocked the alien backwards, throwing it against the rough wooden crates of a supply stack, then carried on knocking it backwards until it fell bloodily to the desert sands, shot apart.

The Doctor managed to roll out from underneath the Sergente.  A long glass dagger protruded from the Italian’s sternum, around which blood leaked slowly.

‘Killed instantly, I’m afraid,’ said the Doctor, standing up to look at the other two of his party.  ‘Pierced his heart, poor fellow.’

Another reason to hate these alien parasites!

     Hmmmm if you manage to anger the Doctor you're really not looking at a rosy future.  Said the author.  And I should know.


Lord Peter's Make-You-Very Crossword

Conrad seems to recall that way back in the dim and distant Seventies, there was a crossword variant in the 'Daily Express' with just this title.  They, too, must have tried to solve Lord Wimsey's crossword.  Or else they were just ticked off at the world.  Here is the latest 'clue':  "The smallest words great speakers greatness give; Here Rome propounded her alternative.(3)"

     And the answer?  VEL.

     ???  What?  Is that a word or an acronym?  'Vertical Erector Launcher' NO SNIGGERING AT THE BACK would work, except you're talking about two thousand years later.  Let me practice a little Google-fu -


     Hmmmmm these are 'Velites' or Roman shields, courtesy a wargaming website, which makes as much sense as anything out here.  Art!

She's an MA***

Finally -

As you should surely know, Conrad is off to work tomorrow until he gets home at 19:45 if he's lucky, so there MIGHT be a second links post tomorrow, if I feel up to it.  I shall not be buoyed up by Tony's as they are shut on a Sunday evening, thus no gigantic kebab battles.  Your Humble Scribe intends taking a torch along to guide his faltering footsteps along the <cue sinister Gerry Anderson chords> Towpath Of Doom, so we'll see how that goes.

     Chin chin!



*  Okay, okay, a few days behind.  Spoilsport.

**  Profound apologies to any Koreans reading this.  "Taxi Driver" is still my favourite K-drama!

***  In Medieval Love Poetry, the sultry wench.  Come on, who does not like the Secretly Hot Nerd?  Or - er - is it just me?

Contumely Come To Me

Nope, I Ain't Telling

Go look it up in your house Dictionary. 

     Okay, in a naked bid to up the traffic figures, Your Humble Scribe is going to post a whole lot of links rather than a new blog item, because I'm horrid and vain that way.  Of course - obviously!- we need a click-baity picture contribution from Art,  preferably something just this side of SFW.


     Strange place to take a nap.  I take it that the DOG BUNS! UND KREPLACH!  Look at the author - Robert Silverberg.  Bob Silverberg is a VERY highly-respected sci-fi author, at least nowadays.  Looks like he slummed it a bit when he was younger and had bills to pay.  I take it that the  'Mink' in question is a coat, because shedding blood on or over a Neogale Vison would be rather peculiar.

2022

BOOJUM!: I Warned You (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2021

BOOJUM!: Camelot, Or What? (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2020

BOOJUM!: Whither The Weather (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2019

BOOJUM!: The 128-Ton Insect (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2018

BOOJUM!: Bad Company (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

BOOJUM!: Rocket Man (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2017

BOOJUM!: The Beak Shall Inherit The Earth (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

BOOJUM!: The Frothings Of A Furshlugginer (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2016

BOOJUM!: Discerning And Spurning (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2015

BOOJUM!: The Curse Of Cocoa! (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2014

BOOJUM!: Wake UP! We Still Have A Lot To Get Through! (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)


















More Fiction

Because It's Always Fun To Laugh At The Loonwaffles
There is a reason conspiracy theories remain theories; there is no evidence to prove them real.  A couple of the more bizarre recent ones are that 5G phone masts caused Covid - no idea how that worked - and that Finland doesn't exist since it was cooked-up as a conspiracy between Imperial Russia and Imperial Japan.  Aki Kaurasmaki would be most disconcerted to realise he's a work of fiction.  Art!

The funniest film ever made

     However, when we look to South Canada, conspiracy theories acquire a sinister cast, all the more so because they are armed to the teeth, if not more so.  'Armed to the top of their head' seems more apt.  Take 'Pizzagate' as an example.  
     In Real Life:  The Wizard Lizard Gizzards decide to hold a fund-raising party, because in South Canada you need very deep pockets to campaign.  The Comet Ping Pong Pizza parlour stands alongside a bookshop owned by a former aide to Hilary Clinton - and your finely-tuned conspiranoid-whiskers ought to be twitching by now - who thus knows it well and recommends it as a venue for said event.  Art!

     In Loony La-La Land:  Any mention of 'pizza' in e-mails or texts is, of course - obviously! - code for 'pedophile sex-trafficking ring run by Hilary Clinton'.  Because so many right-wingers would rather asphyxiate than breathe the same air as Hilary, they go from Hearing to Believing.  Of course - obviously! - the pizzeria is the centre of this child-trafficking ring, where they are manacled in the cellar, so that eeeeevil Democrats can abuse them at will.  This message gradually creeps from the fringes of loonwaffleness and into the mainstream, and is eagerly espoused by the Ice Cream Bandits, who are delighted to have more metaphorical clubs to lambast Hilary with, because she is seen as Evil Incarnate.
     At no point does anyone bother to actually determine the facts of the case, especially not that repellent biffer Alex Jones, who makes money from it as he does any kind of tragedy.  Art!

     Here an aside.  AJ has now declared bankruptcy in an attempt to avoid paying the enormous punitive fines levied for his lies about Sandy Hook, and because he cannot keep his flapping pie-hole shut, has admitted as much on his television broadcasts.  I suppose we here at BOOJUM! should remain unbiased and non-partisan; I plead special dispensation to point and laugh at the horrid little goblin in this case.
     ANYWAY this is where things get serious.  Recall, if you will, Don Quixote tilting at windmills in the mistaken belief that they were evil giants?  Art!

     Yeah.  Enter one Edgar Welch, who entered Comet armed with an assault rifle, determined to free the sex-slaves held in the cellar-cum-dungeon-cum-torture chamber.  Proving that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, he fired a shot into the floor to announce his presence, entirely forgetting the hapless captives held beneath his feet.  Art!
Poster boy for 'Ignominous'

     His plans for a gallant rescue as the knight in shining armour came to naught for two reasons:  1)  The local SWAT team turned up and 2) Comet doesn't have a cellar.  Both equally compelling arguments.
     To the swivel-eyed slack-jawed bumbletucks who insist that it DID, and it was bricked-over or filled in or covered up (in both senses), I cordially refer you to City Hall's planning department, where you will find Comet listed - without a cellar.  And I can confidently assert this whilst living on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, without access to any documents held in the local archives.  You see, I have reality on my side*.
     

The Haul
I did indeed visit the Oxfam shop in Oldham yesteryon, another fruitful visit indeed, especially since I've not finished reading the last clutch of books I got there.  Art!

     In case you can't make it out, the tome to port is "Sherlock Holmes The Short Stories", which Your Humble Scribe first read aged about ten, and a fascinating read it was, too.  "Darkest Hour" is truly that, a description of the politicking that went on in the summer of 1940, when This Sceptred Isle stood alone against Nazi Germany, who was backed up by their best mate the Sinister Union (Ruffians hate trying to explain this away).  "Airborne" rather threw the lady on the till, as she recognised the name as an author of fiction.  "He is, but he branches out occasionally," I quoth.  "It's probably ghost-written but it has his name on because it sells books," I cynically added.



Tanks Very Much

You may have heard, or you may have been living on the Moon, but Ukraine is about to be sent a plethora  of NATO Main Battle Tanks, which is both a good thing and a bad thing.
Good: Because these puppies are a quantum level above and beyond anything the Ukrainians - and the Ruffians - have at present.  Art!
A Challenger.  This may be the last thing Ruffian tank crews see**.

     Bad: A logistical dogs dinner!  The Leclerc, Abrams and Leopard 2 all require different spare parts and maintenance procedures.  The Challenger doesn't even use the same NATO-standard ammunition as the others.  Plus the Abrams is a resource-hog, as I've said before.  The MOD will probably have to set up a repair depot in Poland to accommodate maintenance.

     That sound of tears falling into a bowl of salty borshch?  Sad Putin is sad.


"The Sea Of Sand"
Our band of survivors have captured an injured bio-vore, one that took the full brunt of a jar of petrol, which seems not long for this world.

‘Not for long,’ muttered Capriccio under his breath, cocking his gun.

‘Allow me to interrogate,’ requested the Doctor, standing in front of the bio-vore to prevent any “accidents” with gunfire.  He kicked the unfortunate creature on it’s webbed foot, eliciting a jerk in response.

‘Don’t!  Don’t touch me!’ the alien babbled. It’s skin where petrol had fallen was turning white and blotchy, blistering whilst they watched.

‘Are there any survivors of the caravan you attacked?’

The bio-vore made several gestures, none of which the humans recognised.  Eventually it realised they didn’t realise.

‘No, none.  We Eviscerated them all on the spot.  Time was a factor.  We needed to be quick.’

Loathsome creature! thought the Doctor, not feeling at all sympathetic.

‘Why?  Why the need for urgency?’

‘Because of the Artefact!  It appeared out of nowhere, in the middle of the sands whilst we approached the fodder.’

All three soldiers bristled with annoyance, visibly.  Even Capriccio got the gist of what their captive said.

‘Assault Detachment Leader Icono decided to take the object back to the Infiltration Complex, for further study.’

Roger looked closely at Doctor Smith, who appeared to be peculiarly concerned with the mysterious “artefact”.  So the monsters took another piece of kit from the caravan.  So what!  The Doctor pursed his lips, looking down at his scuffed, dusty boots.  Tam considered whether to ask what the Arty Fact might be, then decided not to, not wanting to look silly.

     I think you and I can work out what the 'artefact' was, gentle reader.


Finally -
How long does it take to do sausages in the air-fryer, I wonder?  I am curious after hearing Wonder Wifey describe slicing them down the middle, stuffing them with cheese and salsa and then cooking them.  That's me, thinking with my stomach again.  Plus, I could make chips!



*  Frequently but not always.
**  Or not.  One of these scored the longest tank kill ever - at over 5 kilometers distance.