Firstly, Of Course - Obviously! - We Need To Find The Original Saying
Which was about double-edged swords. A hasty trawl around teh Interwebz reveals that double-edged swords used to prevail, as they tended to be better at skewering the opposition. They might also be two-handed, as well, because of their sheer size, meaning that they couldn't be wielded single-handed. Art!
Conrad also supposes that you didn't have to worry about which side was sharp in the heat of battle, merely giving your orcish opponent a bruise and sore neck instead of decapitating them completely.
The saying means that <insert entity here> may be for good or ill, i.e. it cuts both ways and one has to be very careful not to suffer the negative consequences.
Here an aside. The single-edged sword has largely supplanted the double-edged sword, thanks to it's better handling (since they are generally shorter and lighter) and their efficacy in slashing attacks. Art!
CAUTION! Less effective as a metaphor
Obviously - of course! - this has passing little to do with today's title, which in fact derives from subject matter Your Humble Scribe has been pondering for a few days now. Quite how it came to be present front and centre in my mind is a complete mystery, but thank you Steve. Art!
No! Not the world's biggest pitcher of gin. Philistine! This is the Mirror Of Galadriel, she being the co-ruler of Lothlorien in 'Lord Of The Rings' and an elf of might and power. To scry things far off, she poured water into the basin and the reflective surface acted as a mirror, allowing a select few to witness distant scenes.
Here an aside. Jonathan Strange and Mister Norrell carry out exactly the same magic in "Jonathan Strange And Mister Norrell", just with silver plates rather than a granite plinth weighing three-quarters of a ton. A lot handier.
Now, Conrad can tell what you're thinking. "Wow, you could look into the girl's ch-" WASH OUT YOUR FILTHY MINDS! What you should have been thinking is "Wow, a method of spying on Mordor that doesn't rely on having to get close to that unlovely country." Art!
Hold on there. It's not that simple. If we let Ol' Gally pimp her bird-bath:
‘Many things I can command the Mirror to reveal,’ she answered, ‘and to some I can show what they desire to see. But the Mirror will also show things unbidden, and those are often more profitable than things which we wish to behold. What you will see, if you leave the Mirror free to work, I cannot tell. For it shows things that were, and things that are, and things that yet may be. But which it is that he sees, even the wisest cannot always tell.’
Conrad is less than impressed. So, there's no date display to indicate that year you're watching? It could be a thousand years ago and on this very spot, or today a thousand miles away? <mutters grimly>. Well at least it's accurate, isn't it Gally old gel! A splendidly-detailed - what's that? O.
‘Remember that the Mirror shows many things, and not all have yet come to pass. Some never come to be, unless those that behold the visions turn aside from their path to prevent them. The Mirror is dangerous as a guide of deeds.’
Isn't this the old clash between free will and determinism? I wonder what Nietzche would say about the phil
ANYWAY that kind of defeats the whole purpose of looking into the Mirror. You've got no idea if what you're seeing is going to happen, or if it already has happened, or whether it won't happen until you try to prevent it. Art!
It put Sam on the horns of a dilemma*
All in all, a most mercurial mirror, and one that is definitely double-edged. I wonder - could Ol' Gally command it to see next week's Lottery numbers?
With That Backdrop Of A Cornfield-
What do you put in a field to keep the birds away from your crops, in order to prevent spoliation and loss? Art?
ART! NO!
Good lord aloft, can you imagine? No, Art, I was thinking along the lines of Worzel Gummidge, not 30 millimetre armour-piercing explosive cannon shells. Art!
That's right, a strawman.
Which, by wild coincidence, is the kind of argument D J Tango and his lawyers have been using as a defence against his recent indictment. "They're preventing free speech!" they all blather. "I have First Amendment rights!" and "I have nuclear weapons, you know" they prate, in - O sorry, that last one was Bloaty Gas Tout. One lawyer in particular, surname Louto or similar, went on five separate talk shows at the weekend pushing this line of guff.
The thing is, Conrad has looked at the indictment. It states that Benedict Donald is perfectly entitled to claim 'they stole my election win', because that's his right under the First Amendment.
What he's being charged with are three counts of CONSPIRACY and another of OBSTRUCTION, which have 0% to do with the First Amendment. Nil. Nada. Bupkes. Sweet Dancing Jesus On A Petrol-Powered Pogo Stick, Conrad is 1) not a lawyer and 2) not a South Canadian and even I worked this out.
Darth Marmalade on toast? Sounds tasty. Art!
"City In The Sky"
Ace, inquisitive as a herd of cats, is getting a tour of Arcology One from the Warden, Nat.
‘To find out what’s been happening on
Earth. You have a different perspective
from up here.’
Nat nodded. Yes, they certainly did. A permanent awareness of how fragile their
arcology really was, let alone how fragile Earth and all upon it really were.
Ace looked out at the Earth as it swooped
across the transparent panels above, feeling a lurch in her stomach – when you
saw that big blue planet swirling across the heavens, it brought home to you
that the sphere was rotating.
‘Can I see the other space stations?’ she
asked. Nat looked unsure.
‘Not literally,’ she warned. ‘Only via remote pickups on the outer
hull. The astronomy section have our
only real telescopes and guard them jealously.
Wait – come with me.’
She led them off at a
tangent, over the spongy plastic paths and to a cluster of buildings decorated
in green and white swathes of colour, a miniature low-rise township introduced
as “Tadcaster”, home to the Wardens.
Then up a narrow flight of stairs to a doorway obscured by a draped
sheet of thin textile. Throwing a switch
brought hidden lights to life.
Ace scanned the small room, which housed
basic amenities – a frame bed, shelves, a cupboard, a desk and a computer with
screen.
‘My home from home,’ explained Nat. Ace looked at the coloured disks stacked on the shelves, in substitution for real books.
Conrad not impressed by disk substitution for books. This future is lacking.
If I Were To Say "Hank The Tank" -
You would immediately roll your eyes and make snide comments about Conrad and Armoured Fighting Vehicles. Art!
Nope. This is 'Hank'. Hank is a very naughty black bear who has no fear of humans. Hank likes breaking into people's homes. Hank likes gorging on human food.
Hank has been identified as the culprit in 21 home invasions, as I believe they are called, where she (yes 'she') used her quarter-ton mass to physically break down doors to get at the goodies.
She is now to be sent to a sanctuary (for which read 'Bear Prison') in Colorado, forbidden to eat Twinkies and Oreos. Or tourists.
Finally -
Time to put this blog to bed and go make tea. A pot of loose-leaf Darjeeling and some solid scran, I feel, with perhaps a bag of popcorn to munch whilst cruising Youtube and seeing what clips have been posted of Citizen Trump.
* Go home and save the Gaffer from poverty and homelessness or continue the quest?
No comments:
Post a Comment