"Hello, Coincidence," Said Conrad, Uneasily

What's Going On?
Yesterday I was part of a party travelling to a party, using my time spent en route to wonder - "Which superhero can I subject to a little critical satire?" and going through the list I've embarassed so far - Superman, Batman, the Flash, the Hulk, Iron Man, Captain America.  Aha!  That other member of the Justice League of America, Hawkgirl.
     Then again, no.  Her list of things that might go wrong/be embarassing/cause social friction would be exactly the same as for Angel.
     But then again, there's still Wonder Woman.  Yes - a promising subject.

Proof of writing it down yesterday

     Today, as designated dog sitter, I turned on the television, and what programme is there on the Horror Channel?  For the first time ever?
     You guessed it, Wonder Woman.

Superheroes With Their Pants Down
NO! Not literally, you dirty-minded rascals.
     Today we focus on Diana, Princess of the Amazons, better known as Wonder Woman.  You are probably more familiar with the version wearing what might be described as "form-fitting" shorts, but Diana used to be a little more modest in the past -

Dancing or kung-fu?  Only you can decide!

     As compared to her contemporary apparel:

If you call them "bikini bottoms" she will punch you

     She can deflect bullets with those wristbands, and if she lassoos you with that rope, apparently you cannot lie to her.  She also had an invisible airplane:

Terror of the FAA

     - which Conrad is going to riff upon today.
     First of all, why invisible?  The problem with aircraft recognition today is acquisition by radar, not the human eyeball.  Is it perhaps a stealth aircraft?  Well we don't know, you can't judge its aerodynamic profile because - it's invisible.  It would also be horribly dangerous to other light aircraft, the ones without elaborate electronic guidance and radar systems, and which rely upon the human eyeball to avoid collision.  It would also be horribly distracting to the pilots of multi-engine jets, which would be able to avoid collision thanks to all that radar anti-crash stuff, but whose attention would be mightily distracted thanks to the vision of a statuesque lady wearing a steel bustier and bikini bottoms flying through the air.
     One can also imagine that Diana has to refuel, maintain and repair this aircraft herself.  If she did have any ground staff they'd be perpetually injuring themselves by walking into it and would have to stay well clear until the engines were definitely dead and they wouldn't get brained by an invisible still-spinning propeller.  Or if it had jet engines instead, they'd have to hide at the other end of the runway to avoid being sucked into their intakes.
     So yes, Diana works on this plane alone.
     Can't she fly herself, anyway?*

A Short Contemplation Upon Edible Stuff
I'll post about the drinks and barbeque at the Howell's separately.  This is to boast about my Strawberry and Banana Smoothie:

     Normally these last 10 seconds if that, as I drain the glass in one go.  Today I made it last, for ooh two minutes.  Banana, strawberry, milk and a tub of date-expired peach yoghurt - you know I like to live dangerously.
     Then behold with wonder as Conrad dines for breakfast, not upon ice cream, but a grilled cheese sandwich:

     I'd toasted the bread last night and there was grated cheese sitting in the fridge, so it wasn't too big a stretch to make this and eat it.  Ice cream for breakfast tomorrow!
     Then there's the cake:

     Wonder Wifey prodded your humble scribe to bake a cake for the party as I had managed - entirely without plotting - to avoid helping Darling Daughter move into her new apartment.  "Carrot cake!" she declared.
     So the "Halloween Pumpkin Cake" recipe got used again, with carrots instead of pumpkin, and the result was a resounding success.  That's a nice robust recipe and Conrad wonders how it would come out with courgette.  I'll get back to you on that.
     Finally, we have Edna Wunderhund going at her newest chewy treat:

A Dear antler
(It cost £7)**

     This is a cut-down deer antler, good for trace minerals and dental health.  It lasts for ages as it is so rugged, and will only gradually wear down under Edna's incessant gnawing offensives.

Foolishness, Thy Name Is Facebook
Perhaps I shouldn't be too harsh as they do provide ammunition for a good rant.
     Nah.  Harsh is the way to go.
     Okay, take a long hard look at this Suggested Post:

"Your drummer in a pedal"
(Nick Mason is not amused)

     At what point in my browsing or posting history have I ever implied that I am a musician?  Ever?  EVER?!
     I never have!  I like my music, yes, but I'd be hard put to tell you which end of a guitar the noise comes out of.  I could perhaps play the gong, as that simply amounts to hitting something very hard, an action easy for Conrad to carry out.
     Oh, "Nick Mason" - he's the drummer in Pink Floyd.  What's that, Nick?  What should we do to the horrid pedal?  Turn?  Turn it?  Oh I see - turn it

That's all for now, pip pip, chin chin, what ho, cheerio!



* Yes, the lazy baggage!
** Sorry

How To: Conrad's Guide To Blog Success

Relative Success
I recall reading a blog-creation and advice guide that mentioned most blogs went toes-up within a year and never got beyond 1,000 hits per month.  Okay, BOOJUM! is now past it's second birthday and does manage to hit about 1,000 hits per month.  I suspect at least 500 of those are Anna, trying to boost the blog traffic by visiting 15 times a day, but allow me my delusion of success.
     Relative success.

Conrad, looking deluded
(His default expression)

Your Title Matters
Indeed it does.  Were this blog entitled "Uncle Brian's Victorian Faucet Collection", "Wincelemass Celebrations" or even "Tales of the Cyborg Carrot*", I doubt it would experience the dizzy heights of 3 to 4 hits per day.
     "Boojum" has a literary heritage, being mentioned in a nonsense poem by Lewis Carroll.  So it has legs.  Those who are up on Nineteenth Century English literature might be tempted to have a look, as might those who wonder what, who or where "Boojum" is.  It has been aptly summed up by Sophie as "nonsense", which is a pretty fair judgement.
     So, you need to aim for a little light literary frazazelle, a name that will intrigue your potential audience.

Conrad, going for "Intriguing".  And having to settle for "Frightning"

Carpe Diem, Also Theme**
As you probably know by now, Conrad likes to generate a Theme and run with it for several posts.  In the case of "Carbonated Drink Analysis" this lasted for only three or four posts; in the case of The Skreeming Voles, a fictional*** punk band from the Home Counties, it went on for months.  
     Having a generative meme like this in the background takes some of the heavy-lifting out of your creative process.  Currently I have alighted upon parodying Shakespeare, under "Shakeshaft", which could well run for months if not years.  
     So, seek out a source with longevity. Not "Superheroes With Their Pants Down", I've already got dibs on that.

Conrad, with his Magic Rod

Libel! Slander! Insults!
One of the things that drives BOOJUM! is our vehement hatred of certain institutions and entities, usually First Bus and The Metro.  This is a splendid way of generating posts full of vim and brio, but there are consequences of such citric splendour.
     This is where "relative success" comes into it's own, since a blog that regularly hit 500,000 visits would inevitably result in reciprocal visits of it's own from that scourge of modern civilisation, the lawyer.
     May I demonstrate both civilisation's detestation of the lawyer, and simultaneously how widely-read I am?
     I will take that as a "yes".
     In Alexandre Dumas' "The Count of Monte Christo" one character suggests that Napoleon "form a corps of lawyers and send them where the shot and shell is flying the thickest."

Conrad, plotting the demise of all lawyers

Promoting Your Wares
Conrad's presence on Facebook would be minimal, and non-existent on Twitter, were these not the two principal methods of pimping his prose.  I find that posting a link on Twitter results in a small number of immediate hits, whereas with FB the hits tend to be more yet spread over a longer time.
     During the week I post in the evening, then again on towards midnight, and repost yesterday's blog first thing in the morning.  Weekends I tend to post twice, as I am never short of things to say, write or shout about.  Saturday (i.e. today) is usually low in traffic as people are off and about doing things, having Fun or shopping.
     You have to strike a balance here; inflicting a link within a post every hour might get you more traffic, but it might also annoy people enough that they hire a hitman.

Conrad, in one of his lighter^^ moments.

Persistence A Virtue
It is indeed.  The blog's traffic has grown over time thanks to me being persistent and consistent; a post every day unless exceptional circumstances intrude^.  I suppose there are ways to boost your traffic - swear words, naughty pictures, current affairs and politics - but Conrad ain't going there.  BOOJUM! is meant to do no more than amuse, and by that I mean me quite as much as you.

Conrad, doing - er - not quite sure, actually

Well there you have it.  A post assembled in bits over several days, just so you know.


* This was almost a real thing back in the Nineties.
** This may rhyme.  It depends on your Latin pronunciation.  Paging Matt Ingham!
*** I do miss them, the virtual little blighters
^ In order of likeliness: robot revolt, zombie apocalypse or alien invasion.
^^ - and certainly less handsome -

" - I'm from Iowa. I only work in outer space."

You Guessed It
Coincidence again.  Conrad happens to be watching an episode of Star Trek - "What Are Little Girls Made Of" - and his mind wandered a bit*, as it tends to do, whilst recalling that great quote from Star Trek IV - "You're from outer space?"  to which Kirk responds "No, I'm from Iowa.  I only work in outer space."
     Of course you have to take my word for it, but be reassured that I never lie**.
     Then, mere minutes later it gets quoted in a manic sci-fi story I'm reading on the internet.
     What are the chances of that happening?
     Phil, got any input?

"Let me guess - you're reading Thomas Pynchon, aren't you?  Goes with the territory."

Cat-Fu: A Short Photo Essay
Cat owners!  Let Conrad explicate a few of the moves your beloved/infuriating/eerily intelligent live-in lord or lady of the household may throw.

"The Leaping Butterfly"

     Poised like an Olympic athlete, here the cat is pretending to sleep, until food.

"The Drunken Scholar"

     Here the cat is expressing disgust at lack of food.

"The Bin of Groats"

     Still no food, so cat is not paying you any attention, until food, or attention, or - even better - food and attention.

"The Fearful Pantechnicon"

     Cat thinks she hears food.

Prostrated By Heat
It gets rather warm in the kitchen when the sun is out, and Edna had been left to the tender mercies of Conrad whilst Wonder Wifey went to trawl the charity shops in Royton.  As I have said before, watching her is like watching a small child wearing a fur coat - silence is worrying, unless she's asleep on your knees.  Hence I realised things were rather quiet in the kitchen -

You might well say "Awwww!"

     - only to be reassured by this picture of domestic bliss.
     It won't last, one of them will wind up the other eventually.  Cats and dogs, it's what they do.

Conrad Displays His Ignorance Of The Modern World
 - and is cocky enough to treat this as a badge of honour <snaps fingers at world, hurts self, tries not to cry>. Take this, for instance:

Er - what?

     This is about that scourge of modern society, the mobile phone, you can't fool Conrad.  What the technical details amount to I have no idea, but - you probably guessed this already - being a pedantic nit-picker I did read the small print.
     That £34.99 figure for a monthly total?  £35 a month my Hairy Underside!  You have to commit to 2 years of payment plus another £30, making £870 total.  You could buy an awful lot of books with that.
     Don't flee in terror - there's more -

"IDE"?  PyCharm? Django? Python?

     Another of the Twits vapid, pointless and mystifying Suggested Posts.  Conrad has ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what any of this means.  Nor, given his level of distaste for the bafoons who promote this tat, is he inclined to find out.

Shout! Shout! Let It All Out!
A lyric from Tears For Fears, sorry couldn't resist when I saw this photo on the front page of the Fish & Chip Wrapper:

Clearly, letting a whole lot of it out

     They're shouting.  Why are they shouting?  Why, in order to stay awake.  
     After all, it is Wimblenod.



  
* I am getting-on rather a bit, so I have an excuse.
** <this is a lie> - addendum courtesy Mister Hand

Is This A Coincidence I See Before Me?

Or Is It Just Conrad Being A Bit Nesh*?

I can point to the entry in Brewer's today, there at the bottom of page 239 - "Cat", and likewise remind you what photograph I posted yesterday:

A Cat

     Stretching it a bit but there will be a little more coincidence later on. Oh yes!

Superheroes With Their Pants Down

Another in our series of satirical sketches about how superheroes would cope in the real world**.  Today we feature Green Lantern!

     Who has a lantern.  And is green.

I rest my point

     This may seem a bit obvious but I don't want to go too fast for you.  After all, why is he green?  Not Red, White and Blue?  Or gold?  Or silver?  Or a fetching steel-grey?

     And this verdant colour scheme brings us to the first of his problems:

     1) Endless pestering for political endorsements.  Sinn Fein, Greenpeace, the Green Party, they'd all be desperate to get a superhero espousing their cause.  I don't know if Greeny has a social secretary but if he does I imagine most of her waking hours are spent fending off "Could Green Lantern just ..."

     2)  No watching horror films, especially ones with jumpy scare scenes.  GL's power resides in his ring - kind of the anti-ring to Sauron's - which can create any construct GL can imagine.  So, imagine he's watching "Jaws" and that head suddenly falls out of the boat - what on Earth is he likely to conjure up?

     3)  No daydreaming, ever.  Although Conrad spends most of his waking, and certainly all of his working, hours daydreaming, he isn't in possession of an artefact-generating ring.  Imagine the consequences.

     "Hello, is that the police?  There's an army of green zombies destroying our office and eating people ..."

     4)  Only bland fiction.  Agatha Christie is as racy and raucous as he can read, because, once again, the ring.  Imagine he's reading E.E. "Doc" Smith's space opera, and really gets into a scene where the Boskonians destroy an entire planet ...

     5)  Phobias.  One hopes that membership of the JLA*** comes with regular psychiatric assessments, because what happens if GL has a fear and loathing of spiders?  Or wasps?  Or Twinkie Bars?  The consequences are almost too terrible to contemplate.

Green Lantern:  An awful warning
(He could have just used Raid)

"Gravity's Rainbow" By Thomas Pynchon

Conrad is really enjoying this.  I think exposure to Tom's style for over a year has allowed me to look past the style and get into the content, and take his switching from one character to another in my stride.  For example, one minute Roger Mexico is blending and baking a puree of Amanita Muscaria, being watched by Katje, in the kitchen of their hotel in London, and the next we're off into Katje's history in occupied Holland.

Brightly!  Red-ly!  Deadly!

     Then there's Brigadier Pudding, who is a doddering old warhorse appointed head of PISCES, and whom had fought at the Third Battle of Ypres, better known as Passchendaele.  Tom knows his stuff: he mentions the notorious (to us Brits) Polygon Wood, and "coal boxes" - jargon to 99.9% of his readers, but which Conrad knows refers to a type of German shell.

The Ocker in protective plumage (Respirator, Box, Small)

     It does swing wildly in tone, from the detailed to the comic to the quite horrid, and is occasionally laugh out loud funny^.

     Here's coincidence #2.  I reposted a post from 2 years ago last night, and what was the last comment?  That my Passchendaele wargame wasn't going to develop itself.

     I keep telling you, read Thomas Pynchon, generate violations of the space-time continuum ...

A Cake I Bake

I apologised to Russell for not baking the cake he requested but he seemed content with the one I made, Coffee and Chocolate Loaf.  Gluten-free, too.  It's a reliable fall-back option if time is short, as it was last night:

Minutes later it was gone

     I didn't have the pub quiz to attend, but I was on a late shift and so didn't get home until 7:20.  Then I had to make lunch for today, get some tea - actually already provided by Wonder Wifey in the shape of a delicious sausage puttanesca - and create that wonder of the modern world, BOOJUM!

The Paper Paper Trail

Conrad, being ridiculously early for work yesterday, happened to get both the Metro and the Manchester Evening News thrust into his sweaty paws as he traipsed from one non-functioning cashpoint to another.

Green Lantern, where are you when we need you?

     HOW MANY TREES HAD TO DIE!

12:00 Silence

If you live in the UK you are probably aware of the one minute's silence at 12:00 this afternoon.  Conrad, being of good taste, and also avoiding the current affairs that go with this event, merely reports that his entire building went silent at mid-day.  13 floors and two basement levels, since you ask. 3,499 people out of 3,500, since you ask further.

     Very eerie!  Normally there is a considerable background noise from all the chatterers.  Today, an almost complete silence, except for one person chatting away on the phone, who is probably going to have a nice little chat with the management ...

And To Pad Things Out A Bit -

Here is my post of 3rd July 2013.  As you can see, I had now mastered the art of adding a picture to the post, which is a bit like fish adapting to walk on land.  Notice that a late finish two years ago meant I got home at 7:00, as I was driving at that time.

I don't know if anyone out there actually waits for these rambunctious ramblings, but I apologise for being late with this one.

Yes, I have tried to post one per day. 

Yes, I have managed this goal so far. 

No, I cannot guarantee to post much before midnight*.

Reason One

I worked on the late shift tonight, which means not getting home until 7 o'clock.  Having arrived home I then have to get changed before making tomorrow's lunch, and - Surprise! - I don't have to also wash a mountain of dirty dishes today. 

     I do have to study the carcass of a dead bee, because a host of these characters seem to have taken up residence under our eaves, and you can't simply get rid of them due to their endangered status.  Luckily for the Connolly's these are mason bees, a polite and deferential species embodying all our Anglo-Saxon behaviours, rather than the African Killer Bee ...

Reason Two

More Bakery Boredom for those who want to know what the kill-radius is for a 106 Fused 6" Howitzer shell at 5,000 yards.  I've been baking a Carrot Cake recipe from the Hummingbird Bakery cookbook, whose recipes tend to be a bit more fiddly and involved than others, but which are very distinctive - that is, people scoff them up pronto.  I've just baked 4 sponges and will have to wait until tomorrow to frost them; total time taken was 2 hours.

Vodka!

My ice-cream made with 2 tablespoons of rum worked out splendidly - frozen but friable, in that you can scoop it without needing to use a chisel.  Rum gives the end result a flavour, whereas vodka (none present) does not.  Conrad will lay in supplies of vodka as a result!

Damn!  I haven't ironed a shirt for tomorrow - need to be quick  with the rest of this.  Vodka = Russia

Russia = the Strugatsky Brothers. 

The Strugaskys = "Roadside Picnic", "Prisoners of Power", "Hard To Be A God".

Tomorrow's theme = Russia.

* Midnight here, in balmy Britain. 

The Lesser-Striped Rumming-Bird in full flow.

I remember baking that carrot cake, it was a massive four-layer one that needed bracing with bamboo skewers and cost £1.00 per slice, not the usual 50p.  Going back to the first line, apparently there is an audience for the ramblings of an alien spy wearing human disguise, which is always gratifying to know.

* Querulous or in a milquetoast fashion

** Hint: not too well.

*** Justice League of America.  Russia, get your own JL!

^ To Conrad.  Your mileage may vary.