This Critter's On Twitter

Not That I Wasn't Before -
Although all I ever did was pimp BOOJUM! with an occasional comment on some people I follow.  This, apparently, is Not The Done Thing, and - being English and therefore with Polite all the way through me like a stick of rock - I hang my (now tidier and more manageable) head in shame.  FORGIVE ME INTERWEBZ, FORGIVE ME!
     "What does this mean in practical terms, Conrad?" I hear you ask, whilst you guzzle down a six-pack of Carlsberg and devour a pizza.
     Leaving aside your shockingly unhealthy lifestyle, I shall propound.
     First, it means I am posting more on Twitter.  Those of you out there who think that Conrad's musings, mentoring and mental meanderings are nothing more than mind-sewage* will thus probably not be impressed.  You can petition Twitter if you want, but - Hey!  Free speech and all that.
     Second, it probably means a bit of a disconnect with Facebook posts, as they can be far longer than Twitter's meagre 23 characters.  Normally I just copy the FB stuff over to Twitter or vice versa, but from now on they are going to differ.
     Thirdly, people on Twitter might bother to read my stuff.  A pious hope, certainly, yet hope springs eternal.
     Enough of the wibble - on with the motley!

"Bleeding Edge" By Thomas Pynchon
I took notes whilst reading this novel, and whilst it didn't affect reality, causality or phenomenology as when reading his other works, it did generate a long list of things I have to look up to understand.  Last night on Twitter I posted about just one of these things - "Zabars".  A kind correspondent replied that it was an "Upscale New York (Upper West Side) delicacy store".  Well now I know, except - it's easier to use a picture here.  Art?

I can't very well post each of these on Twitter, can I?

     It really would be testing people's patience to go posting all of these, and I don't think the Pynchon Wiki is the same edition as mine, so the pages won't match.
     I strongly suspect a very long session on Google beckons!

Conrad - Rubbing Shoulders With The Rich And Famous
Hey, it's true!  I have an autographed Post-It from Norman Lovett on the fridge door.  I once spoke to John Peel.  Bruce Campbell replied to an e-mail.  Oh, and Al Murray once retweeted a post of mine**.
     BUT! All this pales into insignificance - except the Bruce Campbell bit - when I got a reply from Stephen Mangan last night on Twitter.
     "The name is familiar," I hear you chunter.  "Although I cannot -"
     Stop right there!  Art?

Stephen, right of centre.  Also far left.

      Allow me to point out that those terms are strictly in terms of location, not politics, as Conrad maintains his lofty disregard of anything to do with the Third Estate.  The photo above is from a Comic Strip spoof entitled "Red Top".  You heard it here first, folks.
     "Still not seeing it, Conrad.  Can't you do better?" I hear you chasten.
     Excuse me!  That's Art falling down on the job, not me.  Don't worry, I shall deprive him of his supper*** tonight as punishment.

     You've surely heard me banging on about the television programme "Houdini And Doyle"?  Well Mr Mangan plays the part of Doyle.  Art?

Now! Now do you see?

     And the interesting thing is that Mr Mang - dammit, I'm going to call him Stephen, we're practically best mates already - Stephen is actually a pronounced skeptic, holding a worldview diametrically opposite that of his character.  That, sir, is acting.

Whilst On About Skeptics ...
Allow me to mention The Iron Skeptic, who has a website that is - I know, you got there already - skeptical about woo-woo, ju-ju, voodoo and Boo-Boo (the sinister ursine mastermind behind all of Yogi Bear's evil schemes).

http://www.theironskeptic.com/

     That's the link, but BEWARE! for it does have quite a bit of sweary language in it, as I think old Iron gets annoyed at idiocy on the internet, to the extent that his blood pressure is at risk.

Cool Idea
Thanks to Degsy I came across this little gem on Facebook.  Art?

Brrrr!

     Now, you know your humble scribe by now - never one to use a short word where a long (preferably pretentious and Latin-derived) one will do and also wont to use fifty words where five would be enough for normal people.  Heck, look at that previous sentence.  Heck, look at that previous sentence^.  Conrad likes to boost his word count, so the idea above rather struck home.  And I have a short story of two sentences for you to read and cringe in horror at!
     Ready?   Here goes -

"You thought I was dead.

I AM!"

     Think it's got legs?

*  Yes amazingly enough there are people who think this way. Including me at times.
** It was quite funny.
***  A plate of coal
^  I could go on indefinitely but am feeling merciful so will not.

Of Mirrors

Why Yes The Blue Oyster Cult Album Actually
Actually I'm lying, although it is kind of under-appreciated as part of their repertoire; as I'm sure I've told you already, the band can play any kind of music, but heavy metal is what people pay to hear. Art?

Clever Art

     Okay, having laid out a dish of rubeum allec* for you, I shall proceed further.  You may not recall it now, but when the Hubble Space Telescope was launched, it has a serious defect in one of it's cameras, a distorted mirror I believe.  This made it a splendid target for comedians everywhere, and I wouldn't be surprised if a few Russian astronomers rubbed their hands in silent glee ...
     Your favouritest space telescope is now back in the news so WHO'S LAUGHING NOW! because it reveals an alarming increase in the Universe's rate of expansion, which (cue Sinister Oboe Chords) Science Cannot Explain.  Sorry, that ought to be SCIENCE CANNOT EXPLAIN!
     Of course this won't prevent you from putting salt on your chips or oiling the door-hinges, and is unlikely to rock your world in any way, but you know Conrad - always looking to educate the world one reader at a time.  Art?

Hubble

     Surprisingly unglamourous-looking, in fact rather resembling the offspring of a baked beans tin and a roll of foil.

Trimmed And Slimmed
You might consider the following photographs as virtual-mirror images, stretching the ""Mirror" theme a little further.  Conrad pre-hedge trimming:

Lax and oily

     And then after a session at the hairdressers:

Now just oily

     Why is this important?  Because my work colleagues have to look at that grinning maw all day long; I only need to bother when shaving or combing those steely locks - which Peppi announced are no longer as thick as they used to be.

"Jim'll Paint It"
My decision not to link the website bears fruit, as I can now pad out the blog with more of Jim's artwork.  Also some of you might run screaming from the art there; it's the suggestions for pictures that are the most worrying thing, as those doing the suggestions cannot be told apart from the obvious ranting loonies out there.  Art?

Go on, guess!

     Since this might require knowledge of olden times I shall reveal that this is "Medieval Kneivel".  And it's very tame compared to some stuff.  Art?

I'm not going to describe this one, just decide amongst yourselves

Magic Mirror
You know, from "Snow White".  Picture the scene: the Wicked (but hot!) Queen is consulting her Magic Mirror -

Wicked Queen:  Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?
Magic Mirror: Oh, that's easy.  Miriam Buchstader.
WQ:  Who?  Not me?  Or that heifer Snow White?
MM: Miriam.
WQ: Why her!  Tell me, you insufferable minion!
MM:  She's a blonde albino.  Can't get fairer than that.
WQ:  She's a - what are you ranting about?
MM:  Oooh, get you.  Let me guess, you were being sloppy with language.  You said "fairest" when you actually meant "most beautiful".  Am I right?
WQ:  Of course I did, you witless wart.  Well?
MM:  Okay, it's you.
WQ:  Ah, finally.
MM:  You really are shockingly shallow, you know.
WQ:  So what?  I am the fair - the most beautiful.
MM:  Ah.  Yes.  About that -
WQ:  What?  What!
MM:  Only temporary, as Snow White has a spot on her nose.  She's using witch-hazel on it, should be gone in a couple of days.
WQ:  Witch-hazel - I'll give her witches -
MM:  Next time, be clearer what you're asking for.
WQ:  Indeed I will.
MM:  Oh.  Is that a hammer you're holding?  Er -

     And we shall move swiftly on from there.

"Perplex"
Yes, one of our occasional looks at words that pop up into Conrad's mind for no discernible reason.  Normally I credit these to Oscar, my subconscious, but whilst re-reading some old posts yesterday I came across Steve, who is apparently my memory - and who is bad at his job since I didn't recall his name.  No biscuit for Steve!
     Anyway, back to "Perplex", meaning to "confuse or puzzle".  It's Latin in origin, of course, and comes from "Plexus", meaning "Interwoven", which then became "Perplexus" meaning "Entangled" before slimming down to "Perplex".  Or, in Albanian, "Nderlikoj".  Though not in Armenian.  Armenians are apparently never perplexed.

Close enough

     Right, that takes us up to count, or close enough as not to matter.  I'm also going to finish as I have a litre pot of Darjeeling brewing downstairs and, much as I love you, I love my tea even more.

Pip pip!


*  Red Herring

Pushing 30,000

Not Feet, Obviously
As that would put me more than five miles high*, which would cause me to lose consciousness due to anoxia (or apoxia, one of the two) and collapse over my keyboard.  Mind you, my peculiar alien constitution might very well allow me to stay conscious, which would still be a bad thing as Conrad is neither i) lighter than air or ii) aerodynamic in any way. So I'd be shrieking all the way down until -
     - well, let's skip that particular image, shall we?

The view from 30,000 feet
(Conrad just out of shot holding onto wing)

     "Get on with it, Conrad!"  I hear you quack.  "Pointless is on soon!"
     Ignoring your slavish worship of Osman and Armstrong, I shall continue.
     The blog - which is this thing you are reading, or at least moving your eyes across - has hit 29,645 views so it is indeed pushing 30,000 views.  355 off.  Now, another factoid you are probably unaware of is that the blog will be three years old on 16th June 2016.  It would be a nice coincidence if we could hit that 30K mark on or before the third anniversary; it's achieveable as we've managed more than that per week over the past four weeks.
     I suspect on any other blog there would be long, tearful, maudlin reminiscences about how little I dreamt all those years ago - but because Conrad is made of sterner stuff we'll have none of that here!


The Journal Has Arrived!
It's right here, Edward Lear!  Javed's curiosity was piqued at lunchtime as I sat reading it in one of the comfy chairs, and I explained it was a members-only publication.  Art?

Go on, admit it, very eye-catching!

     The members I refer to are The Society Of Twentieth Century Wargamers, and I promise folding money to anyone who can create a catchy acronym out of that title.
     Anyway, I'm sure you'll admit this is a striking cover illustration, and the whole thing looks as if it could be retailed by W H Smith.  The missile rising in flames is, I think, a Minuteman II, which is relevant in view of an article about the Sinisters plotting Nuclear Unpleasantness from their Czechoslovakian fastness (I don't call them "Sinisters" for nothing).

http://sotcw.co.uk/

     There's the link to their webpage.  I promise that we are not a gang of jackbooted militaristic scunners plotting world domination to steal all the biscuits.  I used to be a lot more involved, but of course BOOJUM! simply eats up my time nowadays, so salve my conscience and help us hit 30K.

Bus Wait Rate
This is a real thing.  Yes it is!  I have mentioned what I call "Orwell's Rule" about public transport, which is that 9 times out of 10 your service will be late, but the other 10% it leaves early, so you are in a state of constant mental anguish about timetables**.

Look at the anguish on that face.  No - hang on a minute -

     Conrad's Rule of Bus Wait Rate states that, whilst you are waiting for a bus on your side of the road, which takes ages because it's late (see above), a significant number of buses will drive by on the other side of the road***.  I proved this yesterday as I waited for the 24 not to turn up, whilst 5 buses passed on the other side of the road, which your humble scribe feels is causality over-egging the pudding a bit.
     Now, the question is, how can your modest artisan turn a profit from this?

Mission Log: Elementary, Dear Data
Ah, a lift into Manchester with Degsy (for which I have to disable the atomic howitzer and flamethrowers) so no Cryptic crossword, compensated for by Ken and John's riff, this time on the episode above.  You know, the one where Data plays the part of Sherlock Holmes, easily solving the holodeck's attempts to create a mystery.  Geordi, playing the part of Watson, then executes a mistake of such magnitude that it puts the entire starship and all it's crew at risk.  "Create an opponent capable of defeating Data" he instructs the holodeck.  Note that right there:  Data.  Not Sherlock Holmes.  Aaaand the holodeck does just that, which leads Conrad to wonder about the computer operating systems of the 24th Century; considering the dialogue boxes and messages and prompts and "Are you sure?  Are you really sure?  Are you really really sure with sugar on?" messages that crop up every time you minimize a window on a PC, these future folk are a little cavalier with safety measures.

Data attempts to cook a shoe with solar power

     The opponent is, obviously, Professor Moriarty, whose character and personality evolve winningly over the duration of the episode, into someone benign who puts forward a philosophical argument about Cogito Ergo Sum, from villain to victim in fact.

The evil Professor - makes jam
(For the scones)

     Now for trivia, which the podcasters do first.  The sets for this episode were very expensive, so much so that a day's shooting was cut to try and compensate.  Ken and John had a looong discussion about whether they prefer scones or crumpets - you see, South Canada, you DO miss Britain! - as these are what Moriarty plies a hostage Pulaski with.  O the horror!  Forced to drink tea and eat crumpets^!  Then they debate the nationality of Captain Picard, who seems to be the most English Frenchman ever^^.  Plus one of the podcasters used the word "Apropos", which automatically gives them a Get Out Of Jail Free card from Conrad.

" - and I'll call it 'Etch-a-Sketch' - d'you think it'll catch on?"

     And we have gone WAY over count, so I shall hastily throw in a few pictures and finish.

"How - how little I dreamt -"

*  Only ever Imperial measures on BOOJUM! and if you don't like it - THE DOOR IS THAT WAY! 
**  For some this is a good thing, as it leads to The Stress Diet
*** Drive by MOCKINGLY
^  Sound like Conrad's Saturday morning at the Mansion
^^ Nothing wrong with that whatsoever!

Beleaguered By Lager

Kopparberg Fruit Lager?  NO!
In my notes of yesterday I merely added a string of more "NO!"s to the line above, which, whilst heartfelt and earnest, doesn't really amount to an analysis of the problem.  Besides which I have a word count to aim for*.
     Let me expound upon the matter.
     "Yes please do, Conrad, especially as "Pointless" is on soon and we're big fans," I hear you say.
     Starting slightly in surprise at your good taste in quiz shows, I shall continue.
     We in the UK have long harboured suspicions about Continental lagers; it's not British therefore it cannot be good.  Acceptable, perhaps, and a cheap way to get a buzz, yet still - not good.
     Now, according to a bus poster, we now have to contend with an hideous Scandinavian import:  Fruit-flavoured lager.  Clearly these foreigners are trying a strategic pincer movement!  The picture - Art?

Yes.  Well.

     - tries to imply that this is a Big Manly Drink by having people wrestling with a set of horns in order to get the tops off.  Please note no tasteless puns here, BOOJUM! remains SFW.     
There's no apparent mention of what fruit this liquid is tainted with, although the point is mute - lager ought to taste of lager, not the contents of the produce aisle in Tescos.  Why not simply label it "Swedish W.K.D."**?
     Oh, and for today's coincidence, please look no further than 3 Down in today's Cryptic Crossword - "Some undrinkable liquid".
     Bah!

"Grant Takes Command" - By Bruce Catton
This weighty hardback tome is one of a series of three - I think, no dustjacket supplied - that I picked up in the Oxfam bookshop whilst waiting for the bus.  It concerns the American Civil War and is complex stuff, since although it supplies maps of the principal battlefields, it could really do with a large-scale one of the whole theatre of war.  That way your humble scribe could follow it better.
     The war ran from 1861 to 1865, long by the standards of the time.  A long European war of this era typically lasted a lot less than a year, whereas GTC is in the third year of war with no end in sight.

Chattanooga blue view

     Tellingly, railroads are becoming vital in the prosecution of warfare thanks to their effect on logistics.  For the animal-lovers amongst you the descriptions of miserable treatment that horses and mules endure is harrowing stuff.
     And at the point I have now reached, late 1863 after the telling Union victory at Chattanooga, there's an awful lot of politicking about, with interested parties attempting to either prod Grant into declaring political intent or sounding out his views on running for President.  Given his rather shy nature and avowed spurning*** of any political office, one wonders how he did end up as President.  Twice!


SAVE YOURSELF! By Forming An Orderly Queue
Recall, if you will, Conrad's long list of Global Catastrophic Risks, a heart-warming index of various ways Hom. Sap. might get wiped out in the near future.  What did I speculate?  a multi-modal Global Catastrophe, that's what - an asteroid impact where the asteroid turned out to be carrying a lethal alien virus that actually turned out to be nanobots.  Triple-whammy, you might say, or Being Thorough if you believe in a wrathful Deity.  Exploded, diseased and grey-goo'd out of existence.
     "What's the barmy old twit ranting on about NOW?" I hear you kvetch.
     Leaving aside your less-than-reverent attitude towards my advanced years, I shall enlarge.

Sinister, is it not?

     You remember the Rosetta Mission to land a probe, Philae, on the comet 67P Churyumov-Gerasimenko?  Well, it's reported back, in nice bland language: "Ingredients regarded as crucial for the origin of life on Earth have been discovered by Rosetta at Comet 67P/C-G. They include the amino acid glycine, which is commonly found in proteins, and phosphorus, a key component of DNA and cell membranes."
     Very calmly put.  It isn't even reported on the Beeb's website.  My advice?
     RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!  HEAD FOR THE HILLS!  ENTER YOUR SURVIVAL BUNKER NOW! and remember to take a gas-mask^.

This feller knew what he was talking about

I have just been summoned by the dinner bell, so excuse me whilst I go to devour whatever it is - it was a curry and your humble scribe is now full of rice and chick peas.

Right - time to do the weekly shop!

* At least 750 words total, since you ask.
** "Woeful Kid's Drink"
***  This sounds rude but is actually entirely SFW.  
^  10 Cloverfield Lane reference there.