Yes, that is 'Wasser' in the title, the Teuton for 'Water', because we will be touching on things Teutonic in this Intro, and also high places. Art!
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| More cleavage than is called for |
Sorry, but any mention of 'high places' always brings back memories of the 'possessed' driller from the television series of the above, when he recounts a race purge amongst the Martian hives on M
ANYWAY Your Humble Scribe was trudging his way into Lesser Sodom yesteryon, wondering what he could use as an Intro the following morning, and what came to mind but 'Repent Walpurgis', an absolute classic from Procul Harum that showcases all the band. It begins with the drums setting up the syncopation, features a wild guitar solo from Robin Trower, allows Gary Brooker to show that he can play keyboards, too, and is all backed up by Matthew Fisher and the signature Hammond organ. Art!
It also has the advantage of being an instrumental, so you don't have to make sense of "The room was humming harder" or any such lyrical nonsense.
Because Conrad is a curious fellow, and because it was also a good twenty-minute walk, I pondered further. Who or what is 'Walpurgis'? Surely this must be closely connected to 'Walpurgisnacht', the Teuton for 'Walpurgis Night'?
Once home - a tale in itself - I howked out the trusty "Brewer's Guide To Phrase And Fable" and looked the word up.
So! Walpurga was an English nun, who went to then-pagan Germany in the eighth century as a missionary. Since they didn't cook and eat her, she must have done something right. Art!
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| Saint Wally |
She eventually ended up as an abbess and died in service. The Teutons, having canonized her, decided to transfer her remains from Heidenheim to Eichstatt as of the 1st of May. This date became associated with her memory.
Okay, so whom is going to go out and party like it's 999 on the night before St. Wally is commemorated? Art!
Yes, Nasty Nick himself. You can see him above, ignoring rules and regs about graffiti and despoliation, the Devil.
However, merely running rampant wasn't exclusive enough for Old Hob* and his demons. No, he wanted to revel wildly without having to worry about the church or militia intervening, so the Walpurgisnacht revels were held on high peaks such as the Brocken and other summits in the Harz Mountains. Art!
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| The Brocken. Suitable for satanic revels and television transmitters. |
This is a bit of an inversion of the tropes about Hell, or Hades if you will, which dub it the "Underworld" and have it set in the bowels of the earth. Conrad can only admit that a healthy above-ground environment with bracing fresh air is better than a fusty old burrow. Or a pit.
You may be wondering why the Brocken? Well, there is a weather-driven phenomena observed on the Brocken (and other peaks), known as "The Spectre Of The Brocken". This is the apparent manifestation of ghostly figures at a distance across the sky. In reality it's the shadow of the mountaineers being thrown against distant clouds or fog, thanks to the sun being behind them. It's entirely explicable and rational, but it probably also gave the Brocken a bit of a reputation. Art!
Please excuse any typos, Conrad had a sudden fit of sneezing. When Conrad sneezes, The Mansion's wall shake.
There we go, everyone is now better-informed than they were five minutes ago, and Conrad's amble into Royton proves to be productive.
What's Wrong With This Picture?
Firstly, we need a picture to regale you with. Art!
Yesteryon Conrad walked into Lesser Sodom, did a bit of shopping and returned to the 409 bus stop to get the bus home.
17:48 Didn't show up
17:58 Didn't show up
18:08 Didn't show up.
Fortunately for Your Modest Artisan, another couple did turn up, to get the 402, and they informed Conrad that First Bus were on strike. Note the lack of buses in the photo above.
I don't think it's any great compliment to a bus service if you can't tell the difference between their normal wilfully erratic timetable and being on strike.
Also, thank heavens for working from home!
Blogger : Flattering Or Mad
Conrad cannot decide which condition is better, because the tracking algorithm on Blogger definitely went off the rails on Thursday. Art!
That's from this morning. I reckon we're at least 1,000 hits above what we should be. Or - people can't be that enthused about a <fat white-haired old biffer- the horrid truth courtesy Mister Hand!> can they? Again, Conrad worries if too many people get acquainted with BOOJUM! because libel, slander and defamation. I'm not so bothered about Bloaty Gas Tout weeping salty tears into his borshch, though.
"City In The Sky"
Ace's blithe assurance about materialising inside a Bernal sphere has taken a bit of a knock. An orbital arcology is most definitely not the same as Perivale.
‘Whoah!
That was intense, Prof!’ she gulped.
‘How come none of it falls down?’
He pointed at the view of Earth, spinning
out of sight.
‘Centripetal force. Nerva had gravity generators, but these
people use simple rotation to impart an effective simulation of gravity.’
People clustered at an allotment were
looking at the two travellers with a combination of amazement and
curiosity. Ace returned the stares, with
interest. So these were space-pioneers of
the twenty-first century? Looking more like farmers than astronauts.
They
all wore a one-piece coverall, seemingly made of plastic, in different colours,
and carried basic gardening tools, as well as electronic gadgets and
probes. The Doctor headed straight for
them, coming to a stop and politely tipping his hat.
‘Good afternoon,’ he began. ‘I wonder, could you possibly help ?’
The apparent leader of the group, a small,
narrow-hipped woman with long black hair, looked incredulously at the Tardis
and back at the two strangers.
‘How – how did you do that?’ she
stammered. Two teenaged girls looked
back and forth between the Doctor and Ace.
A large, ruddy-faced man partnered with a Chinese woman came across from
the other side of the allotment.
‘By moving in the fourth dimension,
madam,’ said the Doctor. ‘But I’m not
here to talk about my transport. Do you
have a person or persons who function as a leader?’
Note how he avoids the cliché.
"The Lethal Lathe"
- said now-bald Dave. Another dangerous power tool for you to quiver in fear at! This one is the humble rotary lathe, which you might jib at, because unlike the previous entries on this list, it doesn't sport ferocious cutting blades or high-speed projectiles. Art!
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| CAUTION: can cause dis-assembly |
What it does feature is a rotary bit that can hit speeds of nine thousand revs per minute. Were you to incautiously lean in whilst wearing unfettered long hair, or dangly jewellery, or loose clothing, you will find out what 9,000 feels like the hard way. I won't post an image or link here, but there is a video out there of a Ruffian metalworker being literally torn apart by an industrial lathe. Given that the average human reaction time is 0.25 seconds, your lathe will have rotated nearly 40 times by the time you realise you should have gone to the barbers two weeks ago.
Finally -
Hmmmmm that was a bit grim. Art!
Speaking of madam, it's stopped raining, so I am going to earn brownie points and take her walkies. Pip pip!
* Crafty "Quatermass and the Pit" reference there for you
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