Conrad Crimps Cinema (Again)

Yes, You'll Believe A Man Can Fry

Have I mentioned or put up a picture of the flavoured oils that were brought back as both booty and triumph for Your Humble Scribe?  Because one is full of garlic and the other is full of chilli.  So far I've not used any BUT THAT WILL CHANGE! as the Sunday Stew has not yet been cooked.  This is currently Thursday's blog that I'm working on, as Wednesday is weekly shop date and time is constrained.

     All that is worthy yet dull.  Let's move things up a notch by putting up a picture of <thinks> ATOM BOMBING THE MOON!  Art?

     To be honest, that must be a hydrogen bomb, judging by the size of the explosion.  Just so we're clear.  It's also an excuse to trot out one of my favourite book covers - Art!

     Believe me, it's a far better cover than the novel deserves, as it's mostly dull internal exposition about a boring character's tedious internal mental map.  I'm not sure if the central plot point is ever resolved, and don't care enough to find out.

     ANYWAY let us once again take up cudgels in the service of cinematic sanity, sanguinity and citric sarcasm, and lambast the living daylights out of "Chernobyl Diaries" because if I had to watch it, you are most certainly get to hear about it.  O my goodness yes.  Art!

     

     A bit washed-out, thanks to night-time and contrast.  You can see, pretty clearly, that Chris's leg has been very badly mauled, by a Malicious Something With Teeth.  Nobody worries about Chris going into shock and the scriptwriters clearly had no idea this is a thing, so it never happens.  They don't deal with the blood loss nor issues of infection or septicemia and are quite happy to sit around until daylight.  This is a good thing because the low light levels used prevent we, the audience, from seeing anything clearly.  Art!

     You can see the day is well advanced.  Also, what's missing from this picture?  Yes yes yes, common sense and logic; our trio here are going to look for Uri, because tootling off into the wilderness to look for a dead man is such a productive use of your time.  "Dead"? you say.  Most certainly.  The Malicious Something(s) With Teeth weren't put off by a gun.  If Uri's not dead, why isn't he back at the van?

     ANYWAY, what's missing here are WEAPONS.  Only Michael, the be-hatted Australian, carries a tyre-iron.  Amanda and Paul seem to rely on native charm and wit.  Yet they all saw the state of Chris.  Art!

     That's Amanda clutching Uri's walkie-talkie, the sole communications device amongst the group.  They have digital still and video cameras yet not a single mobile phone.  Were people really that clueless twelve years ago?

     They discover a major blood trail leading into the building, and Michael shows how much of an idiot he is by stating "We have to find out if he's dead".

     Conrad, were he a member of this group, would have invited Michael to go right ahead, the rest of us sane people will stay outside.  You could try shouting Uri's name first, that will probably warn anything sinister waiting inside and sharpening it's fangs, hmmm?  Art!

     Apologies for the screen artefacts here.  You can just see the piece of scrap metal (visible over his shoulder) that Paul picked up as a weapon on the way in WAY TO GO PAUL!  The first sensible thing anyone has done.  Amanda appears to be leaning heavily on the native wit and charm.  Inevitably a fish splashes around in the stagnant pond, startling all three.  What, they're tracking Malicious Creatures With Teeth and - didn't expect anything?  Colour Conrad confused.  Art!

     This is pretty rubbish in terms of quality, I admit.  Also, the photo's not very good.  Ha! do you se - O you do.

     At this moment Amanda has been abandoned by Paul and Michael as they race to get out of a small dirty room that might have been a kitchen decades ago.  They find Uri's gun and Geiger counter, which they flee with, shutting the door forcefully behind.  Art!

     Do they come back for her?  Do they stuff!  These are 21st century men, entirely absent of chivalry.  She crawls around in the dark for several minutes before escaping and running headlong into Paul and Michael.  She's fortunate Paul, the one wielding the gun, didn't shoot her in panic.

     We're less than half-way through here, folks.  Don't worry, nobody gets any less stupid.

You What?

By now you ought to be familiar with the peculiar and offbeat items that we put up here as Mystery MacGuffins on BOOJUM! which are usually products from a certain South Canadian web-tabloid's pages.

     Not today.  Today we have the following.  Art!

     Yes, I understand if only vaguely what a 'Pressure Sensor Switch' is.  The rest of the letter-salad?  Not so much.  Answers in the Comments, please.

 

More Sinking Lego Ships!

Yes, the next segment of "Brick Technology"'s miniature epic about boats of ever-increasing sizes being sunk by ever-more elaborate devices.  Art!

     This beast takes up most of the tank, and was utterly unconcerned at the missiles being flung at it by the Mark II Catapult.

     For those of you thinking that this is silly, allow me to elucidate.  Art!

     That, ladies, gentlemen and those uncertain, is a popular channel.  Art!

     Ol' BT informed that there's a centrifugal pump at the base of this engine, and the exit spout can be raised or lowered to adjust the angle of attack.  Art!

     Nope.  Not a success.  Ol' BT goes back to the drawing board and gimmicks up another invention.  This time it's a crane, with a bucket remotely controlled by a valve and piston.  Art!

     A very long time later - SUCCESS!

Encumber With Number

As May progresses, it seems that the Blogger traffic algorithm is returning to a modicum of sanity, after the patently ridiculous - albeit flattering - figures for March and April.  Art!

     These things run in a cycle and we may see more nonsense returning in June.  Unless that many people really are visiting the blog.  Which would be worrying.

"City In The Sky"

Terry is trying to cadge a lift from the Doctor, which might not sound very consequential.  Except it is.

      A certain coolness seemed to emanate from the Doctor.

     ‘Don’t you believe the sphere will make it down intact?’

     The young man cleared his throat in embarassment.

     ‘I don’t see how a big glass bubble like this can fly safely to land Downstairs - ’

     A tchah! of irritation interrupted him.

     ‘Don’t tell me that’s the opinion of the residents?  Terry, the sphere will land intact.  After landing it won’t be structurally sound again, and as many as one per cent of the crew may become casualties, but it will land safely.  I guarantee it.’

     ‘Then there’s the Lizards,’ stated Terry, matter-of-factly.  ‘Nobody else seems to want to discuss ‘em, for whatever reasons, which is silly because they’re down there.’

     The Doctor stood so suddenly that Terry thought he’d offended the strange man.

     ‘You leave them to me, Terry!  Didn’t I mention a guarantee?  Oh, I take it that you now have a Tab of your own?’

     Correct; Terry showed the miniature electronic device inherited from a previous resident, only for the Doctor to whip it out of his hand and begin to input data.

     ‘Shan’t be a minute, just a few instructions for the scions about what to do and when.  There.  Finished.  Pass it on to someone to pass on to one of the scions, Doctor Davros by preference.’

   You can't fool me.  He's up to something.  Something mischievous and probably dangerous, too.  Which is why Ace is not in the vicinity, or she'd insist on coming along.