Excuse Me If My Typing Sounds A Bit Grumpy
I don't have the excuse of Tom Waits, who alleged that his piano had been drinking. Conrad's laptop is sternly sober, it's he himself who is somewhat dyspeptic, given the return of industrial action on the buses within the bounds of Babylon Lite. Oldham if we're being formal. Art!
Bee Network's finest chariots ride again. Or not.
The AI Art Generator cannot understand what 'no tyres' or 'flat tyres' mean. Don't make me laugh out loud about the perils of Skynet.
ANYWAY the 409 is definitely off the menu from Friday to Monday, which means if I do my usual Saturday morning constitutional into Lesser Sodom, I'm going to have a forty-minute round trip by Shank's Pony. Plus however long I spend in the Co-Op.
I do have an item cued-up about a journalist attempting to travel into Gomorrah On The Irwell during the past bus strike, seeing how long it took and how much it cost, which I may trot out for your delectation. Art!
I don't know if my critical review of just plain 'Greenland' has whetted or dulled your appetite for the sequel, due out in only 3 months. There seems to be a bit of retconning at work as the Garrity family are going to be travelling to Europe, for reasons one can only guess at - we may get down to those if I wallop along today.
ANYWAY AGAIN when last we left the viewing screen, Alison's wristband had been stolen, she had been thrown out of the Ventro's car and they had abducted Nathan. Fortunately, she had returned her library books so that was one less thing to worry about. Art!
That's Phil and Julie Ventros, the abductors, threatening Nathan that he needs to back up their pretence at being his parents, the dastards, or he'll never see his mother again. What utterly repellent people they are. Art!
This is the airbase they are trying to enter, with the usual giant scrum at the entrance, which is definite proof that this is South Canada, because if it were the Allotment of Eden, people would have formed an orderly queue. Seriously, the military staff here couldn't put up some fencing or barbed wire or sandbags to control the disorderly mob? Tut. Art!
Nathan promptly dobs the Ventos in, and they go from Ventos to Venfroms, as they are detained by MPs. Ha! Take that, you egregious munters!
In the meantime, Allison had been given a lift by a random van full of Latinos, whom do not try steal her wristband because she doesn't have one now.
SPOILER: the Garrity's end up never needing to use their wristbands.
Then she arbitrarily abandons her new-found friend and jiggles desperately into the FEMA camp abutting the airbase. Art!
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| As large as we get, you slobbering perverts |
Morena Baccarin delivers the physical goods here, she looks desperate and sweaty as she runs - no gentle jogging here, she really books it - into the FEMA camp. We don't get an explanation of why she does so, ESP or whatever, because By Wild Coincidence whom does she find at the FEMA camp? Art!
Nate. What are the chances, hmmm? I reckon about 110% when you have lazy scriptwriters. Tut again.
ANYWAY ANYWAY back to John Garrity, whom has spent the night walking. He must have had very expensive footwear as he never so much mentions or refers to the hours pounding shoe leather. Art!
Great! Daylight again, which means less obvious camera artefacts that dark scenes bring out. You can see more fragments of Clarke arriving, half a day after they began impacting, implying the cometary constellation was both enormous and enormously spread out. John then breaks into a house, which is fortuitously empty, guzzles a glass of water and then catches up with
Wait, what? NOW they can accurately track comet fragments? Lazy scriptwriting swines. What you see above is the countdown to a 9-mile wide fragment which is due to hit Europe in 23 hours, 56 minutes and 41 seconds, a verrry precise prediction given the 1,000 mile inaccuracy of predictions about the first fragment impacting off Bermuda. The talking heads on television explain that this is an Extinction Level Event that will render Europe a gigantic crater and devastate all life on the planet. Art!
As proof that, yes, John did kill a man with a hammer the previous night, but he has a sound grasp of right and wrong, here he leaves an explanatory note about stealing the family car and promises to return it. Hmmmm. Don't jump the gun, John, there's an ELE between you and that car. Art!
It cannot come as a complete surprise to you to see that the Garrity's survive 'Greenland', given what we know about Hollywood and lazy scriptwriters, thanks to a huge refuge in Greenland. If Bee Network had been in charge of emergency planning for Clarke, the film would have ended thirty minutes in with the utter destruction of Hom. Sap.
Critical review paused at the 1:15:40 mark. More to come! I bet you can hardly wait.
Back To Bedlam
I bet you thought we were going to do a retrospective on James Blunt.
HA! Fooled you - instead we are going Back To BOVINGTON TANK MUSEUM!
Art?
What we have here is a Japanese Type 95 Ha-Go light tank, designed pre-war to give a combination of speed and firepower for infantry support. It weighed 7.5 tons, mounted a 37 mm gun (very much an international standard for the era) and two machine guns. Armour was thin, to keep the weight down, no thicker than 12 mm frontally and 6 mm elsewhere. How many were made is a matter of contention: at least 1,000 and possibly up to 2,300. They performed well in China, against an opponent with few tanks or anti-tank guns, a role they were designed for; against beasts like the Matilda or Sherman - not so hot. Art!
Slow News Day?
I hardly think so, given what's been going on in the world today, such as Naga Munchetty being taken off presentation duties, stop press stuff indeed. No, what I mean is that story is being pimped today. Art!
South Canadian publication, you can tell by how they mis-spell 'rumours'. The giveaway here is the past tense - "fuelled" (another mis-spelling!) instead of present tense "fuels". When I clicked on the link, sporting it's blue and yellow colours that might be Swedish or another European country whose name escapes me. a story from 2022 came up.
Hmmm. The old story is then trotted out of how Putinpot fell down stairs at one of his mansions, emptying his bowels on impact. Only one anonymous source for that, and the subsequent reports of his pancreatic cancer, so take the tale with a big handful of lithium hydride. Art!
These planes were worth their weight in gold - $500 million each, and Putinpot was allegedly so enraged that the Ukrainians shot down two of them in short order that, once again, his bowel contents were expunged.
Also, when he visits abroad, h <more disgusting details redacted by Mister Hand for the common good>
Here's One Conrad Can Get Behind
Something a little more classy than the insides of a megalomaniac. Art!
Excellent news, nicht wahr? Your Humble Scribe knew it had already been published but is waiting for the paperback edition and may have to check Abebooks after this blog.
Also on the MSN feed is an article about the 2025 Nobel Prize for Literature winner, Laszlo - Art!
You knew he was Hungarian from his first name, didn't you? His novels, as described, seem to be odd and interesting and Conrad may once again have to consult Abebooks <wallet squeaks in anguish>
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