Steve, You're Naive

For Your Benefit (And Mine)

I should point out that the "Steve" here refers to my memory.  Apparently Oscar is only my subconscious, imagine that, I had him conflated into both.

     "He's not carrying anything sharp, is he?" I hear you question.  "Because that's worrying."

     Frowning heavily at your lack of appreciation of my perfectly normal mental state, I shall nevertheless continue, after putting down this cleaver so I can type better.

     Recently I conscientiously listed a glossary of terms unique to BOOJUM! that might need a bit of explanation if you're new to here.

http://comsatangel2002.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/conrad-man-of-people.html

     There you go, a helpful link to the very article in question.  CAUTION!  May cause voles to explode!

     However, at lunchtime I was pondering and realised I'd missed a few things out.  Or, rather, Steve had.  For my memory, he's utterly unfit for purpose.  So -

     SPRONG:  A weird and wonderful super-material usable in the home or for light industrial purposes, ductile, malleable and rust-free.

     GUARD HOG:   Not heard of much since we got the Four-Legged Alarm System*, this hefty chap stands guard over The Mansion.

     HARD HOG:  Cousin of the Guard Hog, substitute sentry, film extra who never tires of telling you he was a stunt double in "Razorback"

     THE AIRY UPPER DUNGEON: Just as it says.  I think I had a travelling band of Ukranian folk-musicians in there last.  Must check to see if I let them out.

     THE LOWER DUNGEON:  Far less salubrious.  Dark, wet, with rats and spiders.  We once had an incursion of land-mobile sharks in here.

     CELEBRITUTE:  One of those people who whore themselves out to get 0.15 seconds of fame.

     I.C.B.M.: Either the conventional Inter Continetal Ballistic Missile, or the far more controversial Ice Cream Breakfast Man**.

     And now let the motley begin!

"The Kraken Wakes" - By Dangerous Visions

This is a radio adaptation of one of my favourite sci-fi novels, brought into the modern age definitively by author Val McDermid.  I listened to Part One last night and may get time to listen to Part Two tonight.

     "Tell us, Conrad, o mighty critic!  Tell us how it went!" I hear you cry, and you will be crying because I wrote about it last night so YOU'VE NOT BEEN PAYING ATTENTION!

     Okay, okay, stop crying.  Art?

     Ah, that did the trick.  A picture always distracts you, eh?

     Back on track.  Cornwall has been transposed to Caledonia, potentially subverting Wyndham's intentions as Cornwall is a lot flatter than the Scottish highlands, which is important when the invading alien swine get their Let's-Get-Rid-Of-Hom.-Sap shoes on.

     Having a full symphony orchestra punctuating, emoting and underlining your script makes for good drama.  Hey, it may be radio, it needn't be cheap!

     We have now come to the battle of Escondida; compelling stuff as Phyl nearly succumbs to an alien flying tentacle*** - underscored by orchestra.

It Being The 6th Of June

I may dig out "The Longest Day" and cross-check it with IMDB's Goof list, to see if what is listed as a fault is correct.  I found with "Where Eagles Dare" that about a third were simply wrong, so badly wrong on occasion that I think those making the listing were watching a documentary film about birds.  Another third could be waved away with a little imagination, leaving a third actually correct^.

It has all these people!

     By the way, "D-Day" and "H-Hour" were generic military descriptions, except the first of these has exclusively come to mean the 6th of June invasion of Normandy.  Not sure if there was an "M-Minute" or an "S-Second", sorry.

"Grant Takes Command" By Bruce Catton

We are now up to mid-1864 and things are getting particularly bloody - the incredibly confused Wilderness Battle and the incredibly lethal Spotsylvania Battle, leading Conrad to wonder where they got these names from?  Although the loss ratio for the latter battle is 3:2 for Federals versus Confederates, the rebel general Lee lost almost a quarter of his army.  I know how this ends already but, even if he could claim to be unbeaten, with losses like that he's not going to win.

Nothing remotely civil about this

     Also, no ice cream soldiers here.  Spotsylvania resulted in a combined total of 30,000 casualties which is incredibly high for such a short engagement.

Because I'm Feeling Merciful

Make the most of this, it doesn't often happen.   Cast your minds back to yesterday when I posted this picture:

     I tormented you without giving the answer, although anyone who reads BOOJUM! with any regularity, any regularity at all, any regularity at all THAT MIGHT SAVE THEIR LIVES, should have gotten the answer instantly: Blue Oyster Cult

And there we hit count.  Also Conrad wants to go sip a cool beer outside, as the Upstairs Lair is stifling.  Chin chin!

*  Edna

**  Me

***  Nothing like as saucy as your dirty minds are conjuring!

^  Sorry for the maths, not my strong suit

How Sage Am I ...

Don't Answer That Question!
When I mentioned "Sage" I was cheating a bit - okay a lot - and in fact I meant SAGE.  Which, if you read the blog with any frequency, is instantly recognisable as "Semi Automatic Ground Environment", or the electronic command, control and communications network that was positioned around the borders of South Canada.  It got progressively updated over time as it ran as a system for about 30 years, starting off with vacuum tubes and ending up with microprocessors.
     "Do hurry up, Conrad," I can hear you complain.  " 'Escape to the Country' is on soon."
     Not pausing to worry about your perverse desire to gaze on meadows and gambolling lambs, I shall continue.
     "The Time Tunnel".  There you go.  Remember that television series?  Of course you do.  Art?

An attractive thinking machine.
Oh, and Lee Meriwether.

    You may not know it but Irwin Allen, the programme's producer, was notoriously cheap.  If he could cut corners he would; in fact the man could turn a square into a circle.  Let me provide you with the link between SAGE (you were wondering, weren't you?) and this programme, from Wiki no less: "The prop computer looked realistic because it was an array of memory modules from the Air Force's recently decommissioned SAGE computer."
     As I said, SAGE got updated and Irwin was right in there to hook a good-looking prop for nickels and dimes*.

I'm Not Going To Explain This -
My mate Richard posted this on Facebook and because I am awesome and aware and all-round pretty terrific, I got it instantly.  Art?

Extra large to help you

     There you are.  I may post an explanation tomorrow, but don't count on it as my memory is pretty poor and I look forward, not back.

"The Thing"
I really love this film.  I can't count how many times I've watched it.  I had it on video, copied from television, and it had to be played with the volume up to MAX as the tape was so worn.  I suppose the attraction is that, instead of a bunch of giggling silly teenaged idiots, this is a bunch of very clever and practical people facing a terror - sorry, TERROR FROM BEYOND THE STARS!  Not a PC bone in its body.  The film, not the Terror From Beyond The Stars.
     "What has this to do with anything?" I hear you ask.  "There's a sheep dog and some sheep coming on in a minute."
     Yes, thank you about your obsession with "Escape To The Country", you weirdo.
     Edna!  Edna, do that pose of the husky in the dogshed!

"Arf! Arf!"

     What a trooper!

"The Kraken Wakes" - By John Wyndham
Ah, one of my favourite sci-fi novels has been adapted for radio on Radio 4.  If you have a long memory then you may recall Conrad banging on about adapting the novel into a screenplay.  I have taken copious notes and the whole thing would need a major update, as it was written 60 years ago and politics, science and technology have all moved on enormously since then.  A film, or television series, would be very, very expensive: lots of filming at sea, location work in the Caribbean, lots of navy ships, location work in Spain and Ireland, flooded London, location work in Cornwall, icebergs in the Channel - you get the idea.  Art?

I cannot get a screenshot for some reason, so this will have to do

     Val McDermid has adapted it, right into the present day - a male scientist becomes female, we get e-mails instead of telegrams, an Irish officer becomes Asian - and some of the dialogue is verbatim from the novel.  The core structure remains the same.  Oh, and "Bocker" becomes "Becker".  Because becouse.

Canberra
NO!  Not the Australian city, although I'm certain it's a wonderful place, full of enormous creepy crawlies capable of abducting a small child.  I mean the product of English Electric, who back in the day made airplanes, one of which was the above.  Somewhat bizzarely the wings of one of these were stored in the back yard of my old college, for whatever reason.

Capable of flying at gr - ART!

     Anyway, rather incredibly, the USAF obtained a licence to make them, as the B57 Marauder, an act only repeated once more with the Harrier jump jet.  The South Canadians, you see, do NOT like using other people's kit, so the Canberra certainly had something going for it.  High altitude, actually, because it was able to overfly the Sinisters and cock a snook at the Mig pilots who failed to intercept them.

An Australian Canberra, possibly even flying over Canberra

     These overflights didn't last long as the Canberras and Marauders were replaced by the U2, which was a heavily-modified Marauder.

The etiolated beauty of a U2

     Ha!  How many of you  expected a picture of Bono?




*  Have I got that right?  Peculiar South Canadian currency of low value.

Give An Inch, Take a Yard

Literally And Metaphorically
If you follow the blog with any regularity then you know that Conrad is forever bewailing the tendency of the house cat to come plonk herself down upon him, or the books he is reading or the notes he is making.  She seems to function under the misapprehension that her sheer catlike awesomeness entitles her to pole position.  Art?

Evidence

     As I said, taking a yard when offered an inch.  Not only that, she manages an incredibly smug purr that doubtless translates as "Yes, foolish human?"
     Your humble scribe, or human-shaped cushion, whichever is most appropriate, is also a comfort of second-resort for Edna Wunderhund.  When cast upon the flinty-hearted mercies of Conrad, she prefers to sulk outside the Upstairs Lair, usually in the hallway, heaving a heavy sigh every so often.  Just so you know how she feels about the Wicked Neglectful Humans.  Art?

Just out of shot - Conrad the convenient seat

     Now that we're out in the yard* allow me to post a picture of Wonder Wifey's delicately-nursed greens:

Voila

     I know what you're thinking:  "That's grey, and, whilst a kind of growth, not really what we expected."
     Yes, I concur, Richard Mansur.  I had set the camera for "Beauty shot" in order to provide evidence that I'd had a haircut, as we all know what cynical skeptics you lot are.  Then I sat down to check photos and so went back to get a shot of Lollo Rosso:

Yes they are supposed to look like that

     The strawberries are also coming on.  Art?

Note protection from birds

     You can't see it in this shot but there is anti-slug tape around the pots as well.  Conrad is unsure what happens if slug comes into contact with this tape - explodes?  combusts?  goes green and rots away in seconds? - but I will let you know if I find out.
     About time to start the motley, I believe!

Proof!  Proof I Tell You!
Unless you have the memory span of a mango you will recall my dire warnings about that comet 67P, and discoveries that threaten all life on earth.  Well, it's not gone away and I reiterate my warnings.  Art?

See?

     We here at the Mansion are protected by the barbed wire and minefields, and we can retreat to the Upper Dungeon if need be, but I worry about you my readers**.  

Colour Me Flattered
Emily, one of the charming young ladies I work with, said that Sophie (the Pusheen lady not the baker) had recommended that she get a preview of any complaints letter I send to First Bus.  So far I have sent two, the first being lost to history as it was longhand and I took no copies.  The second one was knocking around somewhere, although it was tricky to locate. Finally it cropped up under a post from last August, and here it is:

"Dear Sir, Madam or Other

                                        Just as drama derives from conflict, so surely must excitement derive from uncertainty.

     At least, this is how I understand the administrative and planning functions of First Bus operate.

       "Won't it be so much more EXCITING if our passengers enjoy that frisson of uncertainty!"

     I also suppose your managers agreed.

     "Reliability and timetables are so blase!  What passengers need is a little sampling of the eternal chaos that drives the universe."

     Thus the 24, 181 and 182 services are become - erratic.  And that's being kind.

     Let us examine your slogan "Get on board with First Bus".

     Firstly, to be able to get on a First Bus, it needs to be there.  A small point, perhaps, yet quite important.

     Next, there is the issue of being physically able to board the bus.  The 24 service runs only every 30 minutes and is consequently totally "rammed" with standing-room only being the rule, not the exception.

     

     - here an aside.  Are the Master Timetables engraved on granite?  Or stone? Etched, perhaps, on a sheet of platinum?  Never to be altered?  Because the 24 maintains the same frequency at rush hour as at noon.  At these times when travellers are greatest in number, when logic would dictate more buses - "Ah", says First Bus management.  "Our timetables were laid down by our ancestors in times long past.  We dare not amend them for fear of offending the gods."  One supposes you have to consult the entrails of a goat before altering a schedule?

(A Transcription of a Timetable and Route Meeting)

     SENECA: Forsooth, Tarquin!  The omens are not propitious!  This goat's liver has three lobes to it.

     TARQUIN: Aye, Seneca.  Last night a black cat crossed my path, and there were owls.

     SENECA: So - we ignore the roadworks and use the same route?

     Back to your slogan "Get on board".

     Thirdly, it's no use me getting on a service that is supposed to go to Rochdale but stops in Royton, or which should go to Shaw and which stops in Chadderton at random.  Do your drivers get an Arbitrary Destination Alteration bonus?

     Lastly, and I make this point because I am not convinced that First Bus's HQ staff actually understand the world of work - as they are all independently wealthy and only come into the office to stave off boredom - but those of us who catch the bus of a morning are usually trying to get into our place of employment.

     Big hint: employers like employees to arrive ON TIME.

Let us amend your slogan to one a little more accurate.  "Get on A board".  The board in question being a skateboard, a far more efficient, reliable and accommodating form of transport than First Bus."

     This is not simply trying to up the word count by underhand means***,  as I need to know what themes I've been harking and yarking about to avoid repetition.  Also, I know how to start the next letter.  "Dear Sir, Madam or Vadataja -" the latter being a minor demon in Lithuanian folklore, best known for it's decoying of travellers^.  Which seemed wholly appropriate.

That's sent us wildly over count, so I shall stop there and leave you with this -

67P.  Sinister dastard, ain't it?

*  Do you see what - o you do.
**  Where else would I get traffic from?
*** Mostly not simply trying to up the word count by underhand means.
^  I think this is mostly correct although I may have embellished a little.

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.