The Ambiguous Apocalypse

I'm Sure You're Wondering How That Can Be

"How can global thermonuclear war be even the slightest bit ambiguous, being as it is the death knell of most of Hom. Sap?" I hear you quibble.

     Well, there's the rub.  'Most of' is not the same as 'All'.  Imagine you're sitting in your study, working out how to afford the next term's extra-mural fees for the children's boarding-school, how much repanelling the wine cellar is costing and how much inheritance tax Daddy will be paying when he expires and SUDDENLY! all the oiks, plebs, neds, chavs, hoi polloi and working-class riff raff are vapourised.  But your comfortable middle-class lifestyle continues.

     Say what?

     Art!

     I've no idea what concept the cover is portraying.  Can't deny it's compelling.

     ANYWAY this is Bri's look at the history of science fiction, and it needs an update since it was written in 1973.  In it he takes aim at John Wyndham and critiques him for creating what he called 'Cosy catastrophes' in 'The Day Of The Triffids' and 'The Kraken Wakes'.  In these works, he alleges, the grubby masses are all killed off so that Bill Masen or Mike Watson can enjoy a life free from class warfare.  Art!

     One wonders if Ol' Bri actually read either work.  In TDOTT 99% of the world's population is blinded, and the remaining 1% have to do battle with lethal plants that exhibit a hive-mind behaviour.  In TKW only 16% of the world's population survives, in an environment ravaged by ecological disaster, where guerilla warfare to steal other's food occurs even in This Sceptred Isle.  Things like flush toilets, motor cars and tinned baked beans are all notable by their absence, and that's only at the Fifties level of technology prevalent when they were written.  Art!

     Another of Ol' Bri's targets, 'The Death Of Grass'.  This one concerns the death of all species of grass, including food crops such as wheat, and the ensuing global famine.  To cut down the number of 'useless mouths' the UK government nukes all major cities, killing tens of millions of - sorry, what's that?  No, it doesn't sound especially cosy.  Nor does the incipient infant new order, based on murder, robbery and violent seizure.  But what do I know!  Perhaps that kind of stuff was meat and drink to Ol' Bri.  Art!

     You know who else was critical of the Cosy Catastrophe?  P D James, that's who.  She found the concept of being permanently and totally blind and being pursued by inimical, relentless lethal plants to be - oooh, what's that word?  O yes.  Scary.

     I bring her up because her own novel above about a gradually depopulating Earth was turned into an excellent film, one which she herself approved of - a rare event in the entertainment world.  There is no grand overarching event that ends Hom. Sap. as things seem set to end according to 'The Waste Land', that is 'not with a bang but a whimper', just inexplicable mass sterility dooming humanity to extinction.  In the film even This Sceptred Isle, top dog amongst the nations, is exhibiting a steady degradation.

     EXCEPT in both novel and film, a new-born child, the first for 26 years, ends things on a hopeful note.  Art!

     It's a great cover picture, by Keith Roberts if I dug around successfully, very striking with only a tenuous connection with the novel itself, dated 1964.

     What's it about?  O I thought you'd never ask!

     A gradually declining human population, as mass sterility causes no new children to be born after mucking about in space with nuclear weapons realigns the Van Allen belts.  Hmmmmm sounds familiar.  The 'Accident' occurs in 1983 but most of the novel is set long after this event - hmmmmm sounds familar - in 2029.  By that time large organisations have gone the way of the dinosaur and England has collapsed into a bucolic, isolated pre-industrial society.

     EXCEPT, at the very end of the novel - well, if it happened at the beginning there wouldn't be much of a story, would there? - it's discovered that some children have been born in the past few years, ending things on a hopeful note.  Art!

     O and Ol' Bri tries to make things less cozy by introducing an overwhelming army of stoats.  One would expect a Malthusian feedback cycle to take care of a vermin volcano like this, but what do I know?

     Well, that's all for this Intro before I go off on other 'depopulated world' sci-fi novels, such as 'Earth Abides' (George R. Stewart 1949) which is one of the better entries and a story for another day.

The Turkey Genes Emerge!

Yes, another not so gentle shoeing for the Big Orange Oaf Himself, and another terrible picture I got from Twitter last night.  Art!

     Not a good look for the ugly sepia biffer, with his neck wattles prominently on display, and his barely-open eyes that seem swollen nearly shut thanks to - bloated bloatiness?  Take my medical judgement as you will.  Also, note his Hair Helmet seems to be about to secede as a separate organism.  His skin is exuding used engine oil.  Take my engineering judgement as you will.

     I've got a much longer item on BOOH to work up, which will grace these pages at a later date.  I bet you can hardly wait.

     

More Of Mister McKie's Skies

All aboard the Angus bus, one image analysis coming up.  Art!

     Hmmmm I misjudged the title here, there's no sky to be seen here, in what looks like a computer and human-controlled industrial facility.  Art!

     No idea what they're doing there, apart from pressing buttons and flicking switches.  The whole gigantic installation doesn't seem to be making anything, so I suggest it's doing something; something uncanny and unknowable. 

     Once again I don't think this has appeared as a book or magazine cover, or we might have more to go on.  O well.

Thinking Outside The Box

One consequence of looking up WW1 hex and counter wargames on teh Interwebz, as well as Youtube, is that the algorithm has been throwing up suggestions that are, for once, reasonable and credible.  No more portable saw mills or log counting software; we will not mention oscilloscopes yet.  So - Art!

     Just to confirm that subtitle obscured by the timer: "The Thirty Years War 1618 - 1648".  Whilst This Sceptred Isle was enduring their very own Civil War, the continent of Europe was undergoing the paroxysm of the Thirty Years War, which was an horribly complicated conflict that drew in every nation extant.  The title means 'Whose Realm?" in Latin, and is linked to the religious aspect of the conflict.  Thanks to 'Ardwulf's Lair' for shelling out the moolah for this and displaying the parts.  Art!

     
     Here's one of the two maps, showing the Early Modern states, done on a hex display (hooray!).  Art!

     The 24-page Rulebook, concentrating on 'Pillage And Sack' rules here.  Conrad thinks 'Sack' is more intrusive and intensive than 'Pillage' but what do I know?  Art!

     One of the four countersheets, meaning over 700 of the little rascals.  The orange counters are the 'Imperial' forces, and the blue the 'Protestant' ones, depicting matchlock troops, pikemen and cavalry.  No counters for artillery on this sheet.  Art!

     They do exist and here's proof.

     It's a very nicely-presented game, and costs <wait one -> $70.00.  Which I am perfectly capable of resisting, even if I remember this for the back burner.  Art!

You Jx549#+#8*3 What?

No, I'm not using random figures to obscure swears, that's what Dog Buns! is for.  This is another bizarre entry generated by the news item algorithm that really needs to be seen to be believed.  Art!

     What on Earth, the moon, Mercury and Venus are they describing here?  It's a server with about 46 redundant characters to it.  To think I used to cajole Arthur Clarke for daring to use 'C' as his middle initial.