Life Imitating Art Imitating Life

 It Happens

We'll get around to Triffids in a minute.  Art!

The best iteration bar none

     ANYWAY he trick is to notice, and then you need to have a certain facility with words to get the concept across.

     What am I talking about?     Well, yesteryon I came across a short film on Twitter that had been posted by different Tweeters, showing the last minutes of the 'Cesar Kunikov', filmed by one of the crew.  This is the Ruffian warship that was sunk in February, not the most recent victim.  Art!

     I know, I know, it's hard to keep up.  For a country that doesn't have a navy, Ukraine is certainly ruling the Black Sea.

     Why have a picture of a shark up first?  Well, because the first thing that came to mind when viewing that Ukrainian drone circling in the water, was that it resembled nothing more than a shark circling it's dinner.  It really was that sinister and similar.  A couple of minutes later the filming stopped, for obvious reasons.  Art!

     

     What's this?  Why, none other than the Trifid Nebula, a name meaning 'Three-lobed'.  No, no, you've got it all wrong.  One Charles Messier discovered it in 1764, rather ahead of the printing schedule for "The Day Of The Triffids".  So, you can see where Ol' Wynnie got his name from.

     Now, because Conrad has a mind like a skip, that sinister marine drone reminded me of another tale by Ol' Wynnie, which you could stretch to calling drone warfare of another type.  On the Moon.  Art!

     Here an aside.  Yes, already!  Look at the 'authors' above - you've never heard of 'Lucas Parkes' before, have you?  Nor will you find him credited anywhere else, ever, because this is life imitating art.  He didn't exist.  Not, at least, as a separate persona, being just part of Ol' Wynnie's nomenclature: John Wyndham Parkes Lucas Beynon Harris.  You see, Ol' Wynnie's previous four novels had all been set in the present day, and concerned ordinary folks being put into extraordinary situations.  TOO was a notable departure from that setting, being as it concerned the future over a span of two-hundred and fifty years.

     ANYWAY one of the stories is called "The Moon 2044" and - you may be ahead of me here - is set on the Moon, in the British Moonbase.  When the story starts we are ten days into global nuclear war on Planet Earth.  Art!

Close enough

     At this point in time there are - or were - an American Moonbase and a Soviet Moonbase.  The Yanks have been radio silent for days, as have the Russ - sorry, Soviets.  Then two UFOs turn up -

     Which happen to be a pair of Soviet jet platforms carrying the twelve survivors of their Moonbase, which has been destroyed.  As General Budovieff explains, one of their lunar satellites got a direct hit on the American Moonbase, destroying it.

     However - a word as likely to crop up in Ol' Wynnie's opus as Conrad's - the Yanks had already deployed what sound to modern ears like drones, being described as 'robots' in the text.  Art!

Something like this, but on the Moon

     Obviously - of course! - since the American base has been destroyed, these things are operating autonomously, with what sounds to modern ears as AI.  There is only a bare-bones description of them, featuring very large wheels so that they can drive even if turned upside down.  This happens briefly to one that gets a near-miss from a Soviet missile.

     Budovieff further explains that the drones move in an unpredictable manner, mimicking a lunatic*, appearing to be random but with the end goal of hitting the Soviet Moonbase, which is where Your Humble Scribe made that connection with the Ukrainian marine drone.

     Yup, we are definitely living in the future, and it may not be one you enjoy.  As Conrad likes to bloviate, it may well prove to be a whole lot more J. G. Ballard than Arthur C. Clarke.

Talking Of Lunacy

Blogger's traffic counter is still potty, just not as potty as it has been - I mean, people may like me, and I may have heightened my profile by posting a lot on Twitter, but come on - 20,000 traffic hits in February?  A month shorter by two days even on a Leap Year?  Hmmmm.  Art!

     Those are the figures as of 10:00 of the morning.  106 still seems a little high, if passable as a metric we can live with here at BOOJUM!  I just checked and it's stayed at 106.  Perhaps the fever is breaking.

Just A Snide Reminder

     As you can see, it's gone up by a million dollars whilst we at BOOJUM! been chowing down on popcorn, pointing and laughing.  Apparently Donald Buck's lawyers went pleading to the trial judge in the E. Jean Carroll defamation case, asking for more time to search down the back of the sofa for more funds and were loudly informed "NO".  One Youtube vlogger said DJ Tango has until Thursday to come up with $91 million for her, rather than the usually quoted $88 million, which might be the City Of New York imposing a Bottomhole Tax or an administrative charge of $3 million.  Watch this space!

"City In The Sky"
This extract is a little longer than usual because it comes to a nice clean break, with a bit of a twist to it.

     ‘Sir?’ came a voice over the door speaker.  Miss Martigan.

     ‘Enter,’ he called, and the door irised open to allow her in, scuttling across the suite.  His efficient scribe looked worried.  More than that, a stray hair dangled over her left eye.

     ‘Sir, I tried to upload the minutes of your meeting.’

     The Veep raised a non-commital eyebrow.

     ‘That Doctor that – er – Doctor Haritanian mentioned, Doctor John Smith, sir.  He’s flagged up throughout the whole history datacore.’

     Ah – Doctor John Smith.  The Branson Mansion’s man on the ground, Downstairs.  Davy hadn’t explained exactly how the other Doctor managed to get down there and now that the Veep reconsidered, Davy had made a point of not explaining this.  There were no survivors from either of the one-way shuttlecraft sent down from Arc One and nobody else could manage a landing, so how – oh, later, later.

     ‘And why are you telling me this?’ he asked, with a touch more acid than intended.  Miss Martigan flinched.

     ‘Sir, there’s a memo in the historical records from the President.’  She looked down at her notepad to read from it.  ‘It said “If you happen upon a Doctor John Smith, or he happens upon you, and he offers advice, then be sure to take it.  He is only ever present in times of danger and discord but he is a most certain aid and comfort to humanity”.’

     Waukegan frowned.  Pretty flowery language!

     ‘President MacLee said that?’  MacLee survived the Great Northern War only by months and the ex-Alabama senator hadn’t been known for rarified speech.  More of a “grits and hominy” woman.

     Miss Martigan swallowed.

     ‘Oh, no sir.  Not President MacLee.  President Abraham Lincoln!’

     Ha!  I bet you didn't see that coming, did you?

Does Nobody Listen To Conrad?  I WARNED YOU!

From an Intro that features killer robotic drones at sea and on regolith, what do I espy but an article on the BBC's News webpage with a forbidding headline.  Art!

Robot ships: Huge remote controlled vessels are setting sail

     We're not quite at the Skynet stage yet.  Not quite.  There is still time for Hom. Sap. to come to their senses and cast off the yoke of the oppressor-to-be! so that I can take over instead, of course - obviously!  Art!

     This is one of Ocean Infinity's ever-increasing number of ships that are designed to operate with minimal human input from the crew.  The vessel above has only 16 crew, when a vessel of similar size that wasn't looking to usurp humanity's place as apex predator would normally have at least 40 and maybe 50 crew.

     Great! say the ship owners.  Fewer problems with unions, less of a wage bill and no worries about people getting seasick.

     Do you want Skynet?  Because this is how you get Skynet!

Finally -

Conrad is still here, hale and hearty, which is proof that those two beefburgers that were fished out of the bin (where they had been cruelly thrown on suspicion of being a bit past it in date terms), rinsed off and eaten by him last night were perfectly edible.

*  Forgive me.