This Is Going To Take A Bit Of Background
Especially as Ol' Fred is no longer with us, nor have his short stories or novels been made into films or, as far as I know, television serials. AFAIK because some obscure black and white series from the mid-Sixties may have broadcast an adaptation of one of his stories. Conrad has read a fair few of his works, some of which stick with me, some of which don't, perhaps down to the peculiarity of my mind rather than his skills as an author. Art!
Mount Everest, modified
I am cheating here - how utterly unlike me! - by using one of his collaborations with Cyril Kornbluth, namely 'Wolfsbane', which benefits from being a joint venture. It's deservedly known as a classic and is now in the public domain, so you can go read it on Project Gutenberg.
ANYWAY what I really wanted to concentrate upon was Ol' Fred's novella, which is a work too long to be a short story yet not long enough to be a novel, 'The Gold At The Starbow's End'. Yes, I have read it, several times. Art!
Cover artist Peter Jones, and no, I have no idea what this mechanical contraption is, nor what it's doing. Which is not why we're here.
TGATSE has, at it's core, the concept of deliberately isolated humans making innovative leaps and bounds in technological development. The isolation comes aboard a star-ship headed towards Alpha Centauri, where the crew have nothing to do but study science and solve problems. The 'Starbow' is how they view the external universe as they proceed at relativistic speeds towards their destination, which Fred can romance about as nobody is in a position to disagree. Art!
Fred uses a hugely contrived analogy about how the star-ship crew are impelled to do better by having no alternative. His explanation involved children being tasked with crossing a flat open area, either being given two planks of wood, or a single plank. Those with two planks take ages to tie them onto their feet, and then slowly shuffle across the floor; the ones with but a single plank fasten it on in half the time and then dramatically hop across the flat open space, easily beating their better-resourced compatriots. Conrad is unsure this would secure the multi-billion dollar funding for an interstellar research project, as otherwise NASA would be right in there. Art!
This is a still from 'A Material Difference', one of the 1979 episodes from 'The Rockford Files'. Why is it here? O I thought you'd never ask!
There doesn't seem to be any website that details this episode, so you are all cast upon Conrad's cognition. The plot centres around a Sinister plot to murder an inventor in Los Angeles, with Jim's shiftless 'friend' Angel putting himself forward as a hit man for hire. The US Navy are also involved, and for why?
'Formula D'. With the Sinister Union unable to import genuine South Canadian denim, they created their own version, which 'wears like iron', according to the Naval Intelligence Officer above, and the inventor is now looking to make a killing whilst avoiding being part of one.
'Denim. Official working uniform of the US Navy,' realises Jim. Which organisation would have saved millions. Another example of creating a better derivative when faced with no alternative. Art!
'You're jamming my windpipe!'
Where are we going with this? You may well ask. Well, I was contemplating the current imbroglio in the Persian Gulf, in Iran and surrounding nations, involving all sorts of ordnance including Patriots, Tomahawks and THAADs. Which are all South Canadian missile systems, lest ye be unaware. 'Terminal High Altitude Area Defence' if you must know. The Patriot and THAAD are defensive weapons, with the Tomahawk being an offensive one. Art!
Here an aside - that lettering along the side would read 'Yaia Vai' in Cyrillic, or, since it's been reflected, 'Nav Air' in proper King's English.
ANYWAY AGAIN back over the past couple of years, the Tomahawk has been mentioned as a possible missile given, then sold, to Ukraine, because it supposedly represents the pinnacle of South Canadian military ordnance*.
HOWEVER! O that word again - being given, or sold, the Tomahawk comes with a weaver's loom of strings attached. Whichever South Canadian administration was in power would invoke their right to allow strikes inside Ruffia or on specific targets, with potential kill-switch abilities to restrict targets. Typical range is about 1,000 miles, delivering a 1,000 pound warhead, at a unit cost of about $2.5 million.
Ah yes, recall "creating a better alternative when faced with no derivative." Art!
Faced with the probability of not getting Tomahawks at all, or being overlaid with a plethora of restrictions if they did acquire them, the canny Ukrainians came up with their own cruise missile: the FirePoint-5 Flamingo. This has a range of 1,800 miles, carries a whopping 2,250 pound warhead, and at a unit price of $500,000. So it flies further, does more damage and is a fraction of the cost of a Tomahawk, and since it is entirely Ukrainian produced, they can blow up whatever they Dog Buns! feel like. Art!
That big black hole is 30 yards by 20 yards across and the orcs have been careful not to publish photos of what suffered underneath it. Bear in mind that this is the Votkinsky Zavod missile component plant, 800 miles from the Ruffian border in Udmurtia. Ruffian mil-bloggers have been having a squeaky bum time appreciating just how hard the plant has been hit. Yet nary a Tomahawk in sight.
It might have been kinder of Donnie Dorko to allow Kyiv to get Tomahawks. Art!
Cutter - tomahawk - I'll get my coat -
Wow, another looooong Intro, we now need picture content, stat!
You What?
Conrad is unsure what audience or demographic these people are aiming for, but it most certainly isn't him. Art!
NO! No I am not. I need to keep on working to earn Book Tokens, which other people sanctify as 'money', because Your Humble Scribe most certainly does not have £600,000 in savings, or whatever the exchange rate is with South Canada. 'Fisher Investments' - trying to reel you in?
For Those In Pearl On The Sea
Don't knock cruise travellers, for those who have never made a night transit across the Bay of Biscay, when you can feel the ship ascending and descending waves, the feeling 'nervous' is a pale shadow of the real thing. Art!
Here is Edna recumbent in the furry pink Dog Nest. I think she's deigned to bless me with her presence as I'm not playing any music, DVDs or television. Do not fret, both the heater and dehumidifier present are inactive. Although I may blame the latter device for allowing my 'Jolly Ranchers' to become all sticky in their wrappers, which I have had to resolve by putting them in the freezer. I apologise if none of that last sentence makes sense, tune in tomorrow on the same Bats channel.
Another Target To Shoe!
Bearing up in the middle ground, Nigel Farrago is probably spying for South Canada, as others in his party have already got dibs on spying for Ruffia - Art!
#Nathan Gill, come on down for your 10 year sentence!
- and spying for China - Art!
O well that's alright then!
Apparently the Nasty Little Man made a trip across The Pond to see DJ Tango at his Mar-A-Lago pit, only to be spurned and turned away, as Nasty Little Man was only of import before Fat Caligula got back into the White House. Farrago is apparently so desperate he might be going back to his constituency in Clacton in order to remind them what he looks like.
I think that's quite enough scrivel for one night. Pip pip!
* NOT 'Ordinance', which is a species of administrative edict. You're welcome.
No comments:
Post a Comment