No!
Do you see what I d - O you do.
No, I am not talking about the archetypical prog rock band Yes, although I might put one of their tracks on in the background whilst writing this. You know, Yes, whose lyrics made absolutely no sense. I do remember a line being quoted by (I think) Alastair Reynolds in "Revelation Space" about "Flying purple wolfhounds" which is utterly ridiculous - I mean, a purple dog? Art!
Ah me, a Hammond being played through Leslie speakers - you can't get more prog than that!
O yes the artwork. More of Kevin O'Neill's 'detailed, lurid' pictures - heh - as described by the "New York Times", because that was the theme in yesteryon's Intro, where we were (eventually) getting to describe an actual Enfant Terrible, and their enabling parent's appalling behaviour at another child's birthday party. Surprise! Said family and child never had anything to do with Original Poster's family ever again. This, you see, is what happens when parents never dare use the "N" word, only ever the "Y" word. Art!
"Kev's artwork frequently had a high Tut Factor"
ANYWAY at another birthday party Enfant Terrible Brother and Enabling Parents were invited to, EPs tried to get him to blow out the cake candles, which was stonily refused, and OP had to fend ETB off from the cake. The perils of Yes, you see. EPs tried this again at OP's 13th birthday party and, when hauled over the coals about it by his aunt, decided that in future
"In and around the lake, mountains come out of the sky" - told you so.
- OP just wouldn't have any more birthday parties. Things bimbled along like this for years, OP's life having to accommodate ETB at every turn, with anything that OP got needing to be given to ETB if the latter wanted it, which was pretty much all the time. Again, loyal aunt tore EPs new orifices when she witnessed this in action. Art!
"But he looked so normal!"
ETB was consistently so outraged that the birthday parties he got invited to weren't all about him him him that the invites stopped. EPs got into deep, very hot water at a birthday party for OP when - again! - they wanted ETB to blow out the birthday cake candles; OP's stand-up aunt once again delivered more orifice-creating speech and other adults present backed her up.
So, OP's next birthday party was effectively cancelled. Because EPs didn't want to have to use the "N" word. Well, word got around, because OP complained to anyone who'd listen, which resulted in him being grounded by EPs as they didn't like facing the consequences of using the "N" word for him. ETB made a point of laughing at OP, because - he was working towards his Boy Scout Bottomhole Award? Art!
You have to admit, a teensy bit satanic
Surprise! OP actually got a surprise party at his favourite restaurant, AND a Playstation (Conrad unsure what this is but thinks it's some variant of a Devil's Digital Device). He was pretty sure this had all been done last-minute to try and salvage their reputation in the neighbourhood and family. ETB, of course - obviously! - had a tantrum that it wasn't all about him, and, in a change of behaviour about ten years too late, EPs told him to take the hit. His behaviour got so bad that EP mom had to take him off to a nearby MacDonalds, where he spent over an hour in the playroom, refusing to leave. I guess he was weaponising the "N" word. Art!
Kev takes a sly dig at himself and his detailed art
OPs subsequent birthdays always included a nameless cake, as ETB refused to eat any cake that didn't have his name on it; EPs must have gotten fed up with this as Aunt - I'm going to capitalise her name here as she deserves it - called them out on it every time and they had to resort to feeble excuses. "We forgot" "I thought s/he was going to do it" "We were kidnapped by the KGB on the way to the bakery" "Name-eating bacteria must have gotten to it", that sort of stuff.
Then OP moved out, and I shall quote his line here, one that must have given him a great deal of satisfaction: " When I moved out they finally had to deal with how they'd raised my brother so spoiled because I wasn't there to help them with him anymore." Art!
By this time ETB was 14, and because he didn't get one of the above - it is indeed a digital Devil's device - he picked up a chair and ran through the house, destroying thousands of dollars-worth of fittings and furniture. Remember Aunt? She told OP that EPs are now woefully regretting having raised a monster, now that they've had to deal with him for two years absent OP. In fact things were so bad they wanted to send him to a boarding school or military academy, except they couldn't afford that. Conrad suspects he'd have been expelled in the first week anyway.
Is there an update to this torrid tale?
THE "N" WORD.
More Of Megastructures
Yes, back to grown men playing with Lego, except these people can make a living from what they do, because of 1) scale and 2) imagination. Art!
Courtesy of Spitbrix
We've covered this bridge before, so I'll not take too long over it. The construct contains 200,000 bricks, is 35 yards long and weighs three-quarters of a ton. It was built by the Institute of Civil Engineers as a project to see if they could design, create and sustain a large replica of a civil engineering project. Art!
No word on how long it took to break down and transport to be exhibited.
"City In The Sky"
The 'Pangolin' is being prepped for launch, with Ace as one of the more experienced crew members.
‘What the hell is it!’ snarled the
Warden. ‘My head’s still banging and I
don’t need - ’
‘Mona was about to crack the seal on her helmet,’ explained Ace. The benefits of recent experience!
‘Damn! Mona, don’t make stupid
mistakes like that. You could
freeze-burn your eyes or your windpipe.’
When Barclay turned the Master Arming Switch the Pangolin’s systems came slowly back to life, like an arthritic old man waking up in wintertime, made sluggish by long enduring a lonely and icy isolation. Banks of instruments, dials, meters and monitors came on, illuminating the cramped cabin. After ten minutes the newly-present air had reached merely freezing instead of near-lethal and they could crack their suit seals, talking to each other instead of using the link.
‘Suits on at all times,’ pontificated
Kurt. This restricted mobility and free space, since the suits
life-support packs incorporated a short-range jet unit for limited
manouevering. Ace strapped herself into a battered seat that had “PRSTHS”
stencilled onto it, feeling like a Weeble perched on an egg-cup thanks to the
suit’s reinforced hip joints. She looked over the controls laid out
before her: two joysticks surrounded by graduated half-rings marked in degrees,
labelled buttons and switches, a large monitor overhead showing the blank metal
walls of the dock, and two smaller, blank, screens. Probably one for each
extensor arm, she reasoned.
No, you're going to have to go Google "Weeble" yourselves
I Did Mention Alastair Reynolds Earlier -
Which is a good intro to this item, cribbed from the BBC's Science pages, about what appears to be a 'Galactic Megastructure'. Art!
The blue item is now known as the "Big Ring". It's a circle of galaxies and galactic clusters 1.3 billion light years in diameter, so perhaps Stephen Baxter is more appropriate here.
Thing is, by current astronomical thinking, it shouldn't exist, as it violates the 'Cosmological Principle', which (a bit simplified) states that the distribution of matter across the universe ought to be homogenous on the largest scale. An accretion of galaxies like this shouldn't be there, except it is.
No pictures of the BR yet, as it's incredibly faint and distant. We may get more in the near future.
Conrad confidently predicts "Aliens!" as the tagline in the yellow press.
Wallet Squeaks In Anguish
Conrad, as he tends to do when it lurches towards payday, has been looking at items on the "Turner And Donovan" military history book website. Their volumes are either antiques or collectables, often with a healthy price tag. Art!
Yes, that is rather a lot, considering the volume has only 77 pages - about novella length - and 5 maps. However - a word you can guess was coming - the inscription is by the original author, and Alan Moorehead was an Australian war correspondent, journalist and author in his own right - Conrad has harped on about his "Desert Trilogy" often enough.
Don't worry, wallet, a bit too pricey for Conrad <sighs mournfully>.
Finally -
The eyes have it. You'll see. So to speak.
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