Both Hunky And Dory

You Were Expecting A Pun About That Fish Film, Weren't You?

Ha!  Wrong!  Conrad not exactly sure what the film's called, only that there was a delicious fish dish in it called 'Dory', which I may bother to look up -

     Art!

Nice with chips.

     So, the film itself is called "Finding Nemo" and seems to feature a boatload of anthropomorphised fish.  Just to be clear, let's have a look at what a Dory looks like in real-life, before the animators run it through an algorithm designed to maximise the Cute.  Art!

Not quite as exuberant, hmmm?

     This is still quite charming as compared to the fish Conrad originally confused it with, namely the 'John Dory', and if we can keep up the frantic pace of Art's employment - 

!

     I know, it looks like Dory's hideously mutated monster cousin from the dreadful depths of the Challenger Deep.  At least this one is safely dead, the live version looks as if it wants to climb out of the water and feast on your kidneys -

     ANYWAY once again we pontificate about what today's title is not about, and for your second guess I can guarantee you were going to select that David Bowie album, weren't you?  Art!

     Conrad cannot remember if he's got this album or not, and since my I-pod's battery has run so far down it won't display anything, we may never know.  It's not a bad album, I quite like the tracks "Changes" and "Life On Mars" and can't remember a thing about the rest of them, which probably says as much about a grumpy old man's memory as to how memorable they are.

      HOWEVER! that's not what we're going on about here.  O no.  That would be too easy.

     Here an aside.  Where does the phrase come from?  According to my Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, it's a mid-nineteenth century colloquialism, possibly derived from the Dutch 'Honk' which means "Home", and they reach a little by saying that if you're 'Home' then you're in a good place.
     STILL FURTHER HOWEVER!

     Nope, we're not dealing with South Canadian colloquialisms but instead with the JAMES WEBB SPACE TELESCOPE!  What else?  As you should surely know, this giant space eye blasted off from French Guiana on Christmas Day and is en route to one of the Lagrange points beyond Earth's orbit.  These are nice stable points where an object can sit peacefully, not being disturbed by anything else's gravity.  Art!

     The telescope itself had to launch in a very compacted arrangement, in order to fit in the capsule, and now has to unfold the mirror and sun shield verrrrrry gradually.  You don't want to put a hole in a £10 billion dollar bit of kit that cannot be reached for repairs (as could Hubble).  Art!

     That's the configuration with sun shield fully extended but mirror partially folded.

     You must by now be wondering what this has to do with today's title - well, believe it or not, because a spokesperson at the company responsible for building it stated that "Everything is hunky dory and doing well."

     So there you have it.

K8 In A State

We mentioned how deep the USS Johnston had sunk in 1944, and you know how the Sinisters liked to try and upstage the South Canadians if they can; well, they nearly managed it in 1970, unwittingly and unwillingly.  Art!

     This is a November-class K8 nuclear-powered attack submarine, which were bodged together by the Sinisters as quickly as possible in order to have a shoddy something now, rather than a decent item when.  A nuclear-powered, nuclear-armed 3,000 ton monster built by cowboys - what could possibly go wrong?  Art!

This

     There was a serious fire when it was traversing the Bay Of Biscay in 1970, at depth, which killed 50 of the crew.  Surfaced to try and control the damage, it flooded and sank in bad weather; the Sinisters managed to save 73 men but were bummed out that they'd fatally fudged it in full view of NATO.

     It went down in waters nearly 3 miles deep, so there's 1) No possibility of salvaging it and 2) No risk of marine trespassers.  Whatever would Dory say?

     

     O I say - I-pod partially charged and yes, I do have a copy of "Hunky Dory".  I bet we're all a lot happier for knowing that.

In The Spirit Of -

"Tormentor"!  Let us have even more supernatural skullduggery, shall we?  Yes we shall, it was a rhetorical question and the answer was always going to be 'Yes'.

In the intervening hours Louis ironed his shirt and tie for the next day, polished his shoes and continued to think about spirits, ghosts and the supernatural.  Not since the obligatory RE lessons at high school had he considered such things.

Jennifer appeared to be a type of novitiate spirit, having to learn what she was capable of from other, more experienced spirits.  That implied that there was a community of the supernatural, maybe a world-wide one, a parallel of human society.  Then, if spirits were the non-physical remnants of a person, why wouldn’t they mimic the society they’d been part of for so long?

After the sombre ironing duties he went looking at local news websites for more details about the case of Jennifer’s killer.  He didn’t expect much, since it was sub judice, but the case was due to go to the Crown Court next week.

I wonder – could I get into the public gallery?  If I can, so can Jennifer.  Then she can wring the evil little ****** neck, should she want to.

The monitor screen pulsed with unusual brightness, and the lights downstairs dimmed for a second.

‘We’re here!’ said Jennifer’s other-worldly voice from the lounge.  Louis walked in warily, not really knowing what Marjory would look like.

A dumpy little woman, actually, rather like everyone’s grandma.  She seemed extremely real and solid, hardly a denizen of the afterlife.  Her clothes were dated, maybe going back to the Fifties, but Louis wasn’t a fashion expert and could have been out by decades.

‘Hello,’ he began, uncertainly, bowing slightly for added emphasis.  What constituted good etiquette in the spirit world?

‘Well that settles that then.  ‘E can see me,’ chirped Marjory in a Cockney voice.

‘Er – yes.  Yes I can.’ Louis stared at the incongruously prosaic spirit, who eventually frowned.

‘Cat got your tongue, young man?  And it’s rude to stare so.’

Louis shook himself.

‘Sorry.  I don’t – that is, I never have guests, so I’m a bit out of practice.  Can I get you anything?’

Marjory snorted in amusement.

‘What d’you take me for, flesh and blood?  No, it’s what I can do for you.  That’s why I’m here.’

‘Can I sit down first?  Thanks.  Not really used to this kind of thing yet.’

He stared at his feet for a second, trying to compose his mind. 

‘You are a lucky man,’ intoned Marjory.  ‘Getting found by this young thing here.  She’s a positive angel, she is.’

‘I quite - ’ began Louis before getting shushed by Marjory.

     Hmmm.  Here we are and there you go.

Onto More Sublime Matters

We can't run at the white heat of creative genius all the time, so let's have the BBC's pictures on the theme of "2021" do a bit of the heavy lifting.  Art!

Courtesy Tara Lowry

     Taken in Spain, in Andalusia, which Conrad feels is pointed mockery of the climate we endure here in This Sceptred Isle, since it has both sunglasses and sunflowers present, two items rarely encountered here.  Also Your Humble Scribe is unsure why this represents 2021.  A Stinking Corpse Lily would be more apt.

     Bah!

From Ever To Never

Settle In, Pilgrims

Also, expand your sense of mathematical scale when it comes to money, for we are moving into murky waters indeed.  Your Humble Scribe first became aware of a business entity called "Evergrande" about a week ago, whilst watching Youtube videos by a couple of bikers who were exploring The Populous Dictatorship (Advchina").  The video I watched was interesting in it's own right, because they were travelling outside the major cities and towns, into more rural China, where the tourists never travel.  Their original question was "Why are China's bridges falling down?".  Art!

Ezhou City, Shenzhen Province

     This collapse only got coverage because the government didn't close off the site, forbid cameras and delete Youtube content quickly enough.  Advchina allege that this kind of construction failure takes place all the time, thanks to shoddy buildings with no kind of quality control or enforcement.  And who is the second-largest construction company in The Populous Dictatorship?  Yes, Evergrande.  They seem to throw up low-quality housing construction projects in incredible abundance, that fall apart after a few years.  Art!

The chaps point out a crumbling building only 3 years old

     It seems that Evergrande's business model was to borrow enormous sums of money to finance it's building program, creating a bubble that continued to expand, until the Government brought in strict rules on companies acquiring dangerous levels of debt.

     Ooopsie.

Lo-fi hi-rise - imagine all this with the build quality of the photo above it

     Suddenly Evergrande is heavily exposed, being £300 BILLION in debt.  Over 2021 it lost 90% of it's share price, it was declared an unsafe investment by independent valuers, and has already defaulted on loans that were due in December last year.  The Government is refusing to bale it out, so watch this space for what might be a spectacular financial implosion.  Hopefully not as bad as the collapse of Lehman and the 2008 economic downturn, but we'll see.

Kenneth is shocked

"Kingdom"

Still in Asia, let us return to South Korea, and the series above, which Conrad has been aware of for a while, and vaguely recognised that it had a faint connection with zombies.  So, having binged on "The Silent Sea", I decided to have a look at "Kingdom".  Art!

     I've watched Series One and have started Series Two.  There are no dates given, bar that this is the Joseon era, which will make more sense to Sorks than us ignorant Westerners.  Conrad, based on the matchlocks present, is guessing sixteenth century?

     ANYWAY it's just as much a court opera about political machinations as it is about zombies.  Also, these zedheads are unlike their Western equivalent in that they hibernate when temperatures are high enough, usually in sunlight - but this is South Korea at the beginning of winter.  Art!

Zombie 500 yard dash

     Nor will they cross water, for no reason they've given out yet.  The undead themselves are the result of an excellent McGuffin - the 'resurrection herb', a plant that grows in remote, cold regions and which - I don't need to explain further, do I?  ANYWAY they did a film special which is claimed to fill in the prequel to Series One; no word on whether or not there's going to be a Series Three, so we can cross our collective digits and hope.  Art!

     O yes, by the way, these living dead are indeed sprinters not shamblers, just in case you were wondering.

More More More Of "Tormentor"

Yes, because nobody's yet protested, which means everyone loves it, the end.  Go on, let's see what Luma gets up to now.

‘Watch this!’ she trilled in the lounge, making the television come on and the standard lamp light up.

‘Is this what you learn from hanging about with other spirits?’

‘Yes.  Could I bring one to see you?’

‘You can.  Would I be able to see them?’

Jennifer wrinkled her nose.

‘That’s why I’d like to bring her over.’

 

After the hectic pace of recent events, Louis enjoyed a quiet meal, before Jen butted in.

‘Beans on toast?’

He wagged his fork at her.

‘With garam masala, yoghurt and sultanas, young lady - young spirit.  Beans on toast a la McMahon.’

The early evening news came on, followed by the local version.  His earlier guess was correct, since a reporter stood outside the Magistrate’s Court and enthused that a suspect had been arrested in the case of the teenaged schoolgirl murdered the previous week –

Without warning or his interference, the channel changed.  Jennifer didn’t care to watch or listen to news about herself being murdered.

‘Can’t blame you,’ he muttered.

‘Okay, I’m going to fetch Marjory,’ said Jennifer, crossing to alter the direction of Jackie’s photograph.  ‘It may take a while.’

‘Don’t keep me waiting all night.  I have to get ready for – uh, for you-know-what tomorrow.’

The funeral.  He shook his head.  How can you discuss a funeral with the victim?

     Disconcerting, I quite agree.

Progress So Far

I refer, of course - obviously! - to "Reclaiming History", that breeze-block sized tome by Vincent Bugliosi, it being a critique of the various conspiracy theories about the assassination of JFK.  We have reached the small hours of 24/11/1963, and are still only at page 260, leaving about 1,240 to go.  Quite besides all the additional links on the DVD that came with it, although I'm not sure that will run on anything I possess.  Art!

     If he walked into the courtroom the opposing counsel (that is, the defence attorney) would feel their heart sink into their shoes, because he only ever lost one case as the prosecutor.

Conrad - Happy To Be Seething!

Yet more envelope-pushing by the next generation of Codeword compilers, since the old ones are now merely vague vapours of radioactive memories, long since dispersed by the winds.  What do we have now?

"AXIOMS": You can't fool Conrad, he knows his Greek philosophy terms and this is one of them.  How unfair is it to have a word with "X" as the second letter out of six?  "A generally accepted proposal or principle, proven by experience" according to my Collins Concise.  Art!

Close enough

"EPONYMS":  Again with the Greek!  What is it about the Hellenes that drives Codeword compilers so?  Were they all trained in the classics at cruel hard boarding schools and feel the need to exorcise their miserable childhoods on the rest of Hom. Sap?  "A place name derived from the name of a real or mythical person" according to the CC.  Conrad is now trying to think of any such name and is coming up blank, so let's try a touch of Google-fu -

     Aha!  "Fahrenheit" that ridiculously baroque method of temperature measurement, named after physicist Daniel Fahrenheit*.  Art!

Quite apt

"CONFLUX":  Say what?  No, I don't know either, let me look it up.  "A flowing together, especially of rivers".  I see.  Time for a little action with the Remote Nuclear Detonator, and then there will be a conflux of former Codeword compiler's radioactive vapours, won't there?

That's three of them right there

     And with that we are done.

* It works like this: you divide 9 by 15 and multiply by what day of the week it is unless in a Leap Year in which case add 29 and subtract 31, then add a random number between 1 and 139 and there you have it.  I think.

Do You Recall -

That Scene In The BBC's Premier Dramamentary "Doctor Who"

"The Robots Of Death" - this was back in the Seventies, when every other serial had "Death" or "Doom" in the title and you couldn't have that today because it might make people un-necessarily nervous - and if that idle slacker Art can put down his bowl of coal -

Robots being robot-y

     The whole serial is set aboard a mobile factory vehicle that extracts valuable minerals from the sands of planet Whatever (really, they never name it); it has a minimal human crew but scads of robots, which are very nicely designed, I must say.  And whatever action they might be taking, pressing buttons, getting supplies or committing bloody murder, they always have the same calm voice.  Which is creepy.

     ANYWAY the Doctor observes that a huge sandstorm is approaching the sand-miner, which he observed as a good thing, because it would stir up the sands and allow hidden minerals to be mined.  Art!

That behemoth Storm Mine 4

     You have to use your imagination to scale it up a bit.

     "Where are we going with this?" I hear you query. O I thought you'd never ask!  Well, hopefully you remember that I had to empty out my (now im-)mobile bookcase in order to be able to shift it across the room, and then add all the books back in. This was the equivalent of a sandstorm on the surface of Whatever since most of the shelves were two layers deep, and too tightly packed to even view the hidden back row.

     Lo!  I came across my original edition of "The West Riding Division In The Great War" which I haven't so much as opened since buying it a few years back.  Art!

     Rather to my surprise, it turns out to have been published in 1920, thus joining the ranks of my century-old editions, and allow me to prove my point pictorially.  Art!

     "Fully illustrated" normally means photographs, so in another surprise I discovered many nice pen and ink drawings, and if Art can motivate his carcass -

     A Casualty Clearing Station, for your information, was located well behind the front lines and received injured troops who were collected from the forward Regimental Aid Posts, where emergency care had been administered.

     So!

62nd Divisional emblem
(No, I have no idea why)

     And thus we have today's Intro, for which you are welcome.  O in case you were wondering, the motley is sleeping off an ice cream headache; olive and ptarmigan flavour has that effect if you overdo it.

Intelligent Not Clever

Okay, more anecdotes from a 'Tales From Tech Support' thread on Youtube, and one that stuck in my mind.  The Original Poster ('OP' from now on) was an IT support technician at a South Canadian hospital, who had a call from a doctor about his PC not working properly.  Art!

A PC.  Just so we're clear.

     When OP arrived, the doctor explained that the PC kept turning itself off, that he had found a temporary solution and would demonstrate.  The PC monitor went dark, so the doctor began to punch the top of his PC, which miraculously came back to life.  OP explained to the doctor about his PC going onto standby, and hitting the computer had jiggled the mouse a tiny amount, which brought said PC out of standby.  Moving the mouse was a lot more sensible, since the computer housing already had a dent in it.

     As I said, intelligent just not very clever.

A different kind of PC*
(Note absence of pelicans)

You What?

Here's another steal from the BBC, who are loudly proclaiming their 100th birthday.  What do they want, cake and a medal?  What they posted were pictures of obscure scientific equipment, with an appeal to the public to identify what these mysterious artefacts are.  Art!

     The only clue you the reader has is that these were all stored at the Royal Horticultural Society's building, and so presumably have a connection with science that way.  Exhibit the first - Art!

     So - the crank handle raises or lowered the notched rod, which affected the bowl-shaped object in some fashion, which nobody can determine, and notice that there's a switch on the object's base, too.

     Conrad baffled.  Veeblefetzer prototype?

Time For Torment!

You know you love it really.  As you recall, Luma had just dismissed a class of chavvy ne'er-do-wells, whom he had dealt with thanks to the presence of a spirit.

‘Thanks,’ said Louis to his ethereal helper.  She shrugged.

‘Glad to help. That Biffo had a knife, you know.’

Louis blinked in alarm.

‘No, I didn’t!  I ought to be more careful in future.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, I’d have paralysed him if he’d tried to use it.  I’ve learnt to do that.  And there’s more.’

Paralysed? Where the hell did Jen learn this stuff?

‘Talking to yourself?  First sign of madness,’ commented the next tutor who was scheduled to use the room, bustling into the room with an armful of files.

‘I’m the only one who understands me,’ said Louis, the acid retort flying lightly off his tongue.  He gathered up the test results and left.

“Please ring me” said the message in his pigeonhole, signed by the Reverend Sharples.  He did, using the phone in the staffroom.

‘Oh, Mister McMahon.  I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve asked Father Geoghan to come and sit in next Monday, when I hope you’ll return to see me.  Father Geoghan is rather more experienced in these matters than I am.’

‘Go on,’ sighed Louis.

 

Unused to an early start to the week meant he nearly missed his stop on the homeward bus, dozily leaning against the window.  Jen nudged him awake in time for him to make an undignified rush to get off.

Whilst the flowers and notes were still there at the alleyway entrance, the Mobile Incident portacabin had gone.

Wonder what that means? pondered Louis.  Made an arrest?

Jen displayed a new talent by literally walking through the front door, which made his hair stand on end; he realised, with a touch of wonder, that he’d begun to take her for granted, as an almost-Jennifer.  Well, that would teach him to be complacent.

     Things proceed apace.  Tune in tomorrow for the next instalment, since nobody's pleading with me to JUST PLEASE STOP.

BOOJUM! Reviews Films

In our own special way.  Put it like this, if you want a proper review, go see Mark Kermode.  Art!

Author of film reviews and "How To Strangle A Cat"

"THE 355":  SOMEONE HERE CANNOT COUNT!  Take a look at the publicity picture for this thing.  Art!

     How many people are present?  FIVE!  Where are the other 350?  Are they going to be added digitally in post-production?  Do they only exist in the wings and we never get to see them?  Conrad is dismissive.

"SCREAM": O good lord aloft, this franchise is still going, is it?  Let me recap: there's this killer who wears a black gown and a mask, who goes around killing people with a knife.  That is, he stabs people to death, not merely those people who had a bladed kitchen utensil about their person.  Art!

     Really.  This, in South Canada, where there are more guns than people?  Most unrealistic plot ever.

"ALTOGETHER DIFFERENT":  These bus posters seem to be Channel 4 tooting it's own horn.  Guys, if you have to point it out on a poster, then it's not true.

EXACTLY THE SAME

     And with that, we are done.

* O go on then.  "Police constable"

We Thinks Of Links

Yes Indeed My Ella Speed

Before you ask, it's the personal spacecraft of Captain John Truck in "The Centauri Device".  There.  Now we're better informed than we were five minutes ago, aren't we?

     Okay, time for our time-honoured traditional clickbaity picture.  Art!

     Don't ask me what's going on here.  Radical new skin-care routine?  Total Torture Tickler Technology?  Multi-piercings Machinery?  Hmmm with a bit of digging it seems the author, Robert (excellent name! I like him already!) Bellem, was an incredibly prolific writer for the pulp-era magazines, whose biggest success was the hard-boiled Hollywood detective Dan Turner, in stories featuring (I quote) "adventure, sex and science fiction style stories".  So in the light of that make what you will of said picture.

     ANYWAY back to posting our retrospective links.

2021

BOOJUM!: When A Kink - (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2020

BOOJUM!: Hello 2120! (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2019

BOOJUM!: Gimme Another Vee (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2018

BOOJUM!: Sergeant Pepper (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2017

BOOJUM!: It's In The Genes (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2016

BOOJUM!: My Life As A Dog (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2015

BOOJUM!: A Floating Day (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2014

BOOJUM!: As Promised; BOOJUM! Delivers (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2013

Nothing for this one, it's too early - BOOJUM! didn't begin until June.

Sorry about that.

Cigar Tubes Of DEATH!

AND DESTRUCTION!

Seriously.  Every word true.  Okay, for this to make sense (as much as it ever will) we need to establish a background, and that means Gerry Anderson's futurology folk-tales like "Thunderbirds".  If you have no idea what I'm talking about THE EXIT DOOR IS THAT WAY.  Thank you.  Art!

Hypersonic hot wings

From VTOL to STOL at Mach 28

     Actually, Your Humble Scribe can't remember if TB1 ever does descend back into the depths on it's rockets.  Perhaps an aside for a later date.

     ANYWAY you can see the impressively fiery rocketry at work here, and they have a real feel of propulsion, which is completely fictional. I was listening to a FAB talk by Gerry's son, who said they had absolutely no power behind them at all; all the movement is by wire, not rockets.

     He went on to explain that the rockets were simulated using emergency flares from a company called Schermully (splendid English name!), and let us see if Art can provide a picture, once he's pitchforked out of his coal-induced stupor.

So many flares!

     So there you have the ideal method of producing a convincing replica of a rocket motor, except for the fact that these things burn hotter than Hades and were being used inside models using lots of flammable paint, plastic and wood.  Art!

The unglamourous flying truck

     They therefore need to be insulated, which is where Gerry's cigar-smoking helped, as he was fond of the rolled tobacco.  A cigar, you see, is an expensive and delicate item, so it's protected from the world's ravages by being sealed within a tube.  Art!

Substitute Schermully for cigar

     Okay, I know you pedantic hair-splitting sceptics like proof of everything, so here's the DEATH AND DESTRUCTION I mentioned in today's title.  Art!

THINGS EXPLODING*!

     Fun fact: some of these explosions were so large they set the studio ceiling alight.  

     Motley!  We need to find out if petrol long past it's sell-by-date can still be used in a flamethrower, and we've run out of firesuits.  Just stand still while we Bacofoil you, hmmm?

Do I Need To Tell You - DON'T Try This At Home?

For residents in This Sceptred Isle said warning doesn't apply, because we don't have skunks in this country.  You can probably guess where this is going, and indeed it's nowhere very creditable.

     According to one Redditor on the Youtube channel about Pro-revenge, you can bait a skunk into a piece of stovepipe laid on the ground.  Art!

    Allegedly, once in the pipe Ol' Funky cannot raise it's tail to spray skunk-juice at anyone, whilst you cover the bottom of the pipe and keep it vertical, so it can't climb out.  What you can then do is attend a dance event held by a rival school or college, then roll the stovepipe across the dancefloor.  Mister Funky will emerge, no doubt in an enraged state, and boy does he have room to raise his tail.

     Conrad cannot possibly condone this malicious action, even if it's tremendously funny for anyone not on the dancefloor.

Let's Have More Of Torment

Yes, it's a great way to boost the word count, although I hope you notice that the Compositional Ton has been raised accordingly, to 1,200 words.  Ah me, Conrad remembers the days when it was only 750.  And when BOOJUM! began it might be as little as 300 or 400.  ANWAY enough nostalgia, let the supernatural begin.

Louis spun on his heel to point at a hulking brute sitting at the back of the class.

               ‘Why are you in here, in this class?’

               Brief shrug from the student.

               ‘Ah – doing what the DTO said I had to?

‘Wrong answer!  You!’ tried Louis again, pointing to a scrawny teen with terrible acne.

‘I don’t know!’ whimpered the youth in panic.

‘Dim but honest.  I like that.  You!’

‘Er – to learn reading and writing?’

‘Bingo!  Good answer.  You can go early.’

That left twelve students, all unsettled at Louis and his attitude.  He gathered in the test papers, seeing that one student had scrawled nothing but mis-spelt obscenities across the paper.

‘ “Biffo”,’ he read aloud.  Biffo sprawled in a chair, a sneering lad of mixed race who promptly got a slap round the head from Jennifer.  He jerked upright, looking to see who had dared to attack him.  ‘Biffo.  That should be “Buffo”, short for “Buffoon”, shouldn’t it?   You can’t even spell these swear-words properly.  Congrats, you’ve failed the course.  Back to prison in one easy move.’

Biffo surged upright, swearing.

‘I weren’t ******* coming back here anyway,’ he snarled.  His machismo was severely dented when Jennifer tripped him up in front of the class, who hooted with malicious laughter as he sprawled lengthwise on the floor. 

‘Get used to that position,’ Louis warned.  Biffo gave him two fingers, which somehow got slammed in the door on his way out, causing him to dance down the corridor outside in pain and anger.

‘Anyone else like to try being big and hard?  No?  Good choice.  Okay, those of you who remain at liberty next week are welcome to attend our next session.’

‘Think you’re so hard,’ muttered one ridiculuously small individual, hood pulled up over his head, on the way out.

‘I’m not, I just don’t give a ****,’ replied Louis in a matter-of-fact tone.

‘Did he really say that?’ asked one departing student to another.

     Note to any teaching staff reading this: please do not rely on spiritual assistance and intervention to manage your classroom effectively.

Looking Back

As you should surely know by now, the blog doesn't really bother to look back at the past year as we are not at all reflective.  On the other hand, we are perfectly willing to take advantage of others who think hard before posting, and Lo! the BBC have once again put up a collection of photographs, on the theme of "2021". So let's have one of them.  Art!

Courtesy Justin Saculles

     This particular hound is Summer, who dealt with lockdown by catching treats, says the caption.  How does she know that's a treat?  She's leaving her acquisition a little late, surely?  Treat-fatigue?  

Radio Free Europe

No!  Not the R.E.M. song, which I cannot get out of my head now, thanks very much.  There.  Happy now?

     It occurred to Conrad that, since the Sinister Union went toes-up in 1991, RFE might no longer be around.  It was established at the start of the Cold War in 1950, with a brief to broadcast factual news to the Warsaw Pact nations and the Sinisters themselves.  Art!

     The Sinisters hated, hated HATED it, because it explained about things they ignored or lied or twisted to make them fit the Sinister Weltanschaung.  For example, after Chernobyl and the utter silence from the Kremlin about what had occurred, folks behind the Iron Curtain tuned in to RFE to see what the real explanation was.  The Sinisters frequently tried jamming the signal, which was as I seem to recall, four times more expensive than the actual cost of RFE's broadcasting.  After the Sinister Union split apart broadcasting focus shifted to transmissions to other dictatorships, and the station is still going.  Art!

In Prague

     Heh.  This probably tweaks Tsar Putin's tail, since the Czech Republic used to be under Sinister rule, and now it thumbs a metaphorical nose at him.  Poor Dimya!

     And with that, we are done.

*  A lifelong fascination for Your Humble Scribe

We Speak Of Deep Matters

But Before We Do -

A few frothier ones come to mind.  Your Humble Scribe avoided a constitutional walk into Royton yesterday as the bus services, whilst apparently running, seemed erratic.  'One 409 every ten minutes up until 18:00' lied their website, when I could see them perhaps every 20 minutes from my Sekrit Layr.  First Bus timetables - the biggest work of fiction since "Lord Of The Rings", "Ghormenghast", the collected works of Shakespeare <hack spit>, "A Dance To The Music Of Time" AND "Against The Day" all combined.  Art!

Eye eye eye

With puny human for scale

     So I took the car, and wouldn't you know it, witnessed the next two 409s turn up precisely to their ten-minute schedule <resigned face>.  Of course - obviously! - if I'd walked then there would have been a 30 minute gap when none arrived, then three at once, because that's the way the world and First Bus work.

     Were Conrad to walk into Babylon-lite, it would be both there and back again*, as there are no buses at all today.  This is a relief of sorts, as you can predict exactly what their schedule will be, which is pretty unusual, you must admit.

     Okay, that's the first Intro of 2022 composed and unusually short it is.

"USS Johnston"

Your Humble Scribe came across another excellent video by Metal ball Studios on Youtube, a channel we have featured occasionally in the past.  I think Alvaro, the bloke who creates the videos, is Italian.  Their link:

MetaBallStudios - YouTube

     Videos tend to be comparative, featuring things like tanks or fictional starships for size comparisons.  This latest one had shipwrecks arranged by order of increasing depth, which is where the Johnston comes in.  She was one of a small group of convoy escorts, covering the South Canadian landings at Leyte Gulf in the Phillipines in late 1944, when the Imperial Japanese Navy turned up uninvited.  With twenty-three ships, including four battleships, eight cruisers and eleven destroyers, versus seven South Canadian destroyers.  Minnows against pike.  Except -

Atomic minnow on steroids

     Her captain and crew apparently held the view that 'defending is for pansies!' and she went all-out at the IJA, until she had been pounded literally to scrap, at which point the captain ordered 'abandon ship' and she went down shortly after**.

     This is where the deep part begins.  It was known where the Johnston went down with a fair degree of accuracy, which meant considerable problems for anyone trying to scope out the wreck; this is one of the deepest parts of the Pacific Ocean.  A Remotely Piloted Vehicle of Caladan Oceanic went a-hunting and discovered the hull of the vessel at 21,840 feet down.  Art!

Unlikely to be troubled by souvenir-hunters

     This is over 4 miles down.  Metal Ball's video gives you a sense of how deep and dark this is, and an appreciation of how wonderful solid dry land is.

More Monstering

Yes, more "Tormentor" because nobody's raised any objections to this DARK AND HORRID tale appearing in the normally inconsequential BOOJUM!   So let's get on with it, shall we?

Supposedly, fifteen young offenders should have been waiting in, or outside, Room C2 in the Shelley Block on Tuesday morning.  When Louis walked in there were thirteen, all talking to each other, throwing paper, picking mock fights and generally messing about.

‘Thank you for your attention,’ he began.  Most of the students quietened down and took notice. A couple right at the front ignored their colleagues and continued talking, at full volume, interspersing the language with curses.  Louis sighed, rolled his eyes and tipped a nod to Jennifer, who confidently strode over and slapped each chatterer around the back of his neck.  This was the cue for the two awkwards to start whining and complaining, accusing everyone else of attacking them, before realising that they had been hit by nothing.

‘Shut up!’ snapped Louis.  ‘Anyone who p***** me off gets chucked out of the course.  If you want to spend the next six months trying to shower alone or carry buckets of s*** out of your cell, carry right on.’

               His sheer venom stilled any criticism to begin with.  Louis reckoned they must have discovered details of his various tutoring reprimands, and decided to lay low for the moment.

               ‘First of all, we are going to take a Basic Skills Assessment.  This shows us where you might need support.  Please treat it carefully!’

               The default for a BSA was twenty minutes.  Louis gave them all until fifteen minutes before the class change bell went.

               ‘Thank you so much, thank you.’

               One student farted loudly.

               ‘Trying to use what brains you sit upon, eh?’

               That earned him a snicker or two, and the atmosphere in the classroom lightened.  Not by much, but it was a beginning.

     Ah, that Luma.  Not one to suffer fools gladly, or indeed at all.  He has an uphill struggle here.

I Always Say -

It's rewarding to read the end credits for a film, because that way you catch the post-credits scene some studios add on, and also because you discover interesting things in the listings.  For "Love And Monsters", as an example, they had a "Cow Wrangler" which makes sense as there is a cow living in the bunker at film's beginning and strolling placidly along at the end.

     They also mentioned a "Scorpio Crane", and you know Conrad, wanting to know everything all the time.  Art!

     It's a make of extendable crane for use with film cameras, the model above being capable of a 45 foot extension; there are others with differing extension lengths.  Their sales blurb promises soft and silent operation, in case you were wondering.

So very definitely in need of wrangling
(I have seen a credit for 'Bug Wrangler')

     You will further note that films like this - about giant insects taking over the world - still carry that ludicrous disclaimer about " - this film is all made up and not real in any way just in case you were wondering and we have to put this in so the swivel-eyed loons cannot sue us.'  You see, swivel-eyed loons?  You see what you did?

     <right, rest of family have gone off shopping, Conrad is going to stretch his legs, get some fresh air and walk Edna, who is being sulky at having to make do with myself alone>

Finally -

A matter of height rather than depth.  I managed to finish binge-watching "The Silent Sea" last night, which is a pretty fair South Korean sci-fi drama, set, of course - obviously! - in a dystopian future where water is a strategic commodity and the Sorks have established an enormous base (Balhae) on the Moon, purpose undisclosed.  Water scarcity is hardly a novel idea but they propel it along smartly, along with the consequences of not having enough of it.  Swimming pools?  Long gone.  Swimming itself?  Unheard of.  Art!

Balhae Base

     Conrad unsure if a second season would be a good idea.  Balhae Base has been contaminated throughout and is probably a complete write-off, so what purpose would a return to the Moon serve?

     One plot device they introduced once the team arrived at Balhae was 'artificial gravity', because that meant everyone could walk normally and there'd be no need to moonwalk everywhere, which would be tiresome and expensive to recreate.  So well done there.

Before anyone died

     We shall come back to this one, O yes indeed!

*  JRR Tolkein reference for you there

**  To everyone's astonishment, the IJA retreated after getting a right shoeing.