Red Buttons

No!  This Is Nothing To Do With D-Day

You may not have realised, because an absence is harder to spot than a presence, but the blog has been assiduously avoiding joining in with all the 80th anniversary hoo-ha.  We've covered bits of it over the years, and you are doubtless recalling that classic scene from "The Longest Day", where - O go on Art, earn your delicious anthracite.

     Who is playing the hapless Private Steele here?  Why, none other than South Canadian actor Red Buttons.  It's a great scene, mixing humour and suspense.

     ANYWAY Your Humble Scribe was pondering, as I am wont to do, about how to work in a series of photographs that absolutely define me as a hair-splitting pedant of the first water.

     ERGONOMICS! was the key, I realised.  I know it doesn't sound very sexy or appealing.  Still, hear me out.

     Okay, if you're designing an electro-mechanical system that can launch Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles, or control nuclear reactor fuel rods (Art's favourite delicacy!), or monitor electronic and radio traffic across a hemisphere, then you need to be ABSOLUTELY 100% CERTAIN there won't be any accidents or mishaps.  Art!

     This is the interior of "Thunderbird 5", International Rescue's orbital eavesdropping and monitoring platform.  Note that the controls are all widely separated, individually and by function, minimising the possibility of pressing the wrong button or accidentally flicking the wrong switch.  Art!

     Yes, this is the Poisoned Pearl Of Pripyat - one of the control rooms for Reactor Number 4 at the Chernobyl Power Plant.  I shouldn't need to explain what happened here, it's the how that's of interest, because the numpties conducting tests used a reactor rod configuration that was forbidden.  Yet still possible.  Art!

     That display indicates the reactor rod arrangements, and the 'prohibited' one should have been rendered impossible to create, if the thing hadn't been designed on the cheap.  Art!

     This is the command capsule for a Titan II ICBM, with both Commander and Deputy settling down to do their shift.  It's actually a set from "Wargames" but it came up by sheer serendipity on my Youtube feed and it illustrates the point I'm making quite well.  Art!

     Rather than a Big Red Shiny button, for more practical reasons the missile crew have to insert a key and move the pointer through 90º, because this is not something you can accidentally do when slipping on spilled coffee.  This puts their missile wing into standby status.  Art!

     The Deputy is now Enabling the individual missiles.  To do this he has to physically lift a red cover over each switch and then flick the switch.  Again, not an action you can carry out by accident; there has to be real intent behind things here.  Art!

     Then the final rotation through 90º and the Titans would now be completely isolated from any further input.  That's 90 megatons of instant sunshine on the way to brighten up the Sinister's drab world.

     Then we come to "The End Of The World".  No, no, I mean the second episode of Season One of "Doctor Who", not the resulting thermonuclear conflagration that would finish off the Big Blue Dot.

     Although that is quite a succinct description of the plot.  Art!

      Excuse the blue tinge, anything especially bright turns that colour.

    What you see here is old Sol, swelling up as a red giant, and about to imminently destroy Earth.  In orbit is Platform One, which is there to provide a ring-side seat for all those willing to pay enough to be present.  Art!

     This hapless bureaucrat is 'The Steward', whom is in charge of Platform One, and here we see him entering his office.  Art!

     THIS IS HIS DESK.

     What's wrong with this picture?  Can you have a more slapdash arrangement of keys?  Note the cup off to one side, all ready to spill liquids over the keys.  There are no protective covers, so anyone could accidentally drop a pencil or PDA on them.  At first I thought there were no markings on them, but events were to prove otherwise.  Art!

     No, it's not the blue glare, his skin really is that colour!  Behind him is the window, protected by a sun filter.  We learn this because - Art!

     Along comes a Steely Sabotage Spider, which delicately presses that key.  Sorry you can't see the script on them; trust me, it's there.  Art!

 
     The consequence is that the sun filter is switched off, and the Steward gets stewed.  Well, more akin to casseroled.  You can see his office beginning to burn above.  So - why didn't he just re-activate the sun filter?  Perhaps you need to press a different button for that, or a sequence of buttons, and why couldn't you just have a Big Red Button that would automatically re-activate the sun filter when hit.  It couldn't be as simple as just pressing the button the SSS pressed, could it?  NOW do you see the consequences of not having an ergonomically-designed button display?


The Spirit Of Chicken Little Is Alive And Well

The central tenet of this story is that a small stimulus leads various avian folk - who seem suspiciously intelligent for bird brains - to conclude that the sky is falling down.  Okay, perhaps not that intelligent.  Art!

     If you pay attention to the news, then you may have seen the news about the Ruffian navy visiting Havana.  This has led to panic-stricken South Canadians falling to their knees and praying for 'President Trump' to save them.  No kidding.  Art!

    Conrad wasn't aware that either Cuba or the high seas were 'American soil'.  Besides which, if Donald Judas Trump is still Prez then he's served two terms and can't serve another.

     When you look a little closer the ghost of Chicken Little is distinctly present.  Art!

'Warship #1'

'Warship #2'

     This is what various ignoramii have been calling a "Ruffian fleet" or a "Naval group", and which only just qualifies as 'warships' plural as there's but two of them.  The other two ships are an 'oiler' to supply fuel to the other two surface ships, and a tug, in case one of the others breaks down.  There aren't any photos of the tug or oiler that I can see, probably because that would embarrass the Ruffians.  The 'warship' is a frigate, one of the smaller classes of warship.

     Reality considerably less overwhelming than the hysteria.

Time For More Interstellar Starships!

One of them, at least.  Thanks go out to the "Interstellar Research Centre" for their assemblage of galleries.  Art!

     This is the 'Enzmann' which may be a design or a name, it's not clear which as there's no explanatory blurb about it.  Art!

     There is a schematic, which makes things a little less obscure.  Art!

     If that's Deuterium then this must be a fusion-powered spaceship, as it's one of the Hydrogen isotopes used in nuclear fusion.

     A modicum of digging reveals that this project derives from the suggestions of Dr. Robert Enzmann waaaay back in 1964.  That big sphere at the front is a 3 million-ton ball of frozen deuterium, which is indeed the fuel source for nuclear fusion.  Nothing in my quick trawl of teh Interwebz explained how you assembled a 3 million ton ball of deuterium, so we'll just take that on trust.  Art!

     This is apparently the cover of "Analog" from 1973, showing a couple of Entzmann probes orbiting Jupiter.  Ol' Bob had a certain degree of common sense, insisting that there be three separate crew sections for 'redundancy' - for which read one of them might undergo - er - 'rapid disassembly'. and he insisted that the craft operate in groups for 'mutual support' - that fear of 'rapid disassembly' again.

"City In The Sky"

Our favourite Gallifreyan is about to spoil dinner for a whole lot of Lithoi on the Commissary level of their base-ship.

     The Doctor bowed low, mockingly.

     ‘I see I’ve arrived at an inopportune moment.  Do forgive me – I’ll come back later.’

     He took a single step backwards and collided with Art.  Or Tec.

     ‘Can you - ’ he began, before both pairs of the Lithoi’s stubby upper limbs closed on his biceps and scapulae, piercing his jacket and tank top.  The four sets of talons effectively imprisoned the Doctor’s upper arms, pinioned as they were thanks to the claws holding tight: he struggled before realising that the Lithoi’s mass equalled his own and it’s strength, sucrose-enhanced and applied at a precise angle, bettered him.

     ‘Inform the Bridge!’ squealed Art to the very slowly approaching Lithoi.  ‘I have captured a human intruder!  Elevate my caste!’

     He repeated the message again, slower this time.  A desperately struggling Doctor witnessed flickering lights on the approaching alien’s collars and realised his compromised position had been transmitted to the higher-caste Lithoi on the Bridge.

     ‘Treachery!’ hissed Tec, coming up behind Art and preparing to slay his fellow minion.  The Doctor noticed Orskan’s voice was notable for it’s absence.  If he managed to turn around then the alien turncoat would have vanished from sight.

     O my, things have gone rather pear-shaped, haven't they?

If You Have £500,000 To Spare

Mullagrach, one of the Summer Isles off the north-west coast of Scotland, is up for sale for the amount in the title, or more if you're feeling generous.  Art!

     Weather and tides restrict any potential viewings and you have to be fit to climb the ladders to reach dry land from any boat you venture forth in.  The island is uninhabited, although someone has built a rather nice wooden cabin if you feel like a bit of solitude.  Art!

Interior

Exterior

     WHY you'd want to buy it is quite the question.  That portaloo is a 'composting toilet' as they patently do not have plumbed mains water.  In fact you have to take your own bottled water, presumably because their rainwater catchment system is only for washing dishes or your face.  The journey by boat takes half an hour, so popping there on a whim isn't an option either, thus you can't just remark "I'll isle!" to your mates and vanish for a minute or two.

Finally -

By virtue of various rabbit holes and sundry diversions, Conrad discovered that a ballfoot player that used to be roundly abused on Have Your Say, Paulie Pogbar, was recently suspended for failing a drug test, and he's now out of play - see what I did there? - for four years.  Wow.  Still, he does have his countless millions to fall back on, and if I recall the insults on previous HYS, he can always manage a side gig in 'dabbing', whatever that is.  Art!

Dabs, hence 'dabbing'?