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Tuesday, 4 October 2022

Flying High

 NO! This Is Not About Drugs

WASH OUT YOUR FILTHY MINDS! you disgusting reprobates.

     Conrad, in looking up "FLY" yesteryon, realised that there was a lot of mileage in this word and it's derivative phrases, so here I sit with Brewer's balanced on my knee.  Of course one of the most famous iterations comes complete with "The Liberty Bell", so - Art!


     Conrad ought to point out that a "Flying Circus" was a collection of planes flown by pilots with no fear of death who did aerial stunts.  There was also Von Richtofen's Flying Circus, which was rather more deadly and without any hilarious animations.  Art!



     ANYWAY neither of those are anything to do with the SR-71 Blackbird, which was a fast jet in the same way a thunderstorm is noisy.  Art!



     This is one of that breed of aircraft that look fast whilst standing still.  The Sinisters hated and feared it in equal amounts for reasons we'll come to.  It went into service in 1966 and was only totally retired in the Nineties, which is a good lifetime for what was essentially a re-usable manned missile.  You may recognise it in "Star Wars" with a silver paint job.

     It was used to run daily reconnaissance missions over North Vietnam whilst the South Canadians were involved there, carrying a payload of sensors and cameras rather than bombs.  The North Vietnamese fired hundreds and hundreds of Sinister SAMs against these overflights, to absolutely no result, partly because it flew so high - 16 miles, which is where today's title comes from.  It could also hit Mach 3.5 in an emergency, which is 2663 m.p.h. and could thus outrun SAMs.  There was no point in scrambling NV fighters to intercept because they couldn't fly high enough, nor could they match the Blackbird's speed.

     They also made the Sinisters seethe with impotent rage, as they were used to fly just outside Sinister airspace using their side-mounted camera to take pictures of all sorts of interesting stuff that the Sinisters would rather the world not know about.  Art?

Definitely a NNNNNYYEEOOOWWWWW moment.

     Because they were flown to the limits of their capabilities, a return to base always required essential repairs, and to get one flight-ready from scratch took almost a full day.  But then you could have fun baiting the Sinisters.

     Motley!  I fancy a pie.  Go get twenty-four blackbirds.


More Of Malicious Compliance

Also an example of petty penny-pinching torpedoing a business. Okay, so Original Poster worked in an IT setting where he had to take and make calls globally on his phone, often starting at 04:00.  His monthly phone bill came to $100 as an average.

     Enter a new CFO (Chief Financial Officer) after OP has been submitting expenses for a couple of years.  She did not like either him or his expense validation.  Art!


   She immediately instituted a new expenses policy designed to be so arduous that people wouldn't bother with it and simply stop claiming expenses.

     Not OP.  He went through the whole laborious process each month, which took up to 3 hours - when he wasn't doing any work.  The other 15 people entitled to expenses also diligently filed their paperwork every month.  Net savings to the business = $50 per month, across the entire globe.  As against the week wasted in completing the forms.  CFO loudly crows about a 2% reduction in phone expenses.

     However - and you knew that was coming, didn't you? - every employee with a cellphone now became eligible for expenses, so the amount of reimbursement immediately skyrocketed.  People began to use cellphones to call each other within the office; people without cellphones got them.  The monthly expenses bill went from $1,500 to $1,000,000 plus because there were now 10,000 workers submitting claims for reimbursement.  Art!


     The cost to the company, including lost productivity, came to over $13 million, and all in pursuit of saving $18,000 per annum.
     The new CFO quickly became the ex-CFO.


"The Sea Of Sand"

When last we left them, Albert had been discussing how a matter-transmission system had managed to arrive on Earth.

"No, Albert.  One of their restrictions.  You have to have a station established before you can send to it, or receive from it."

     Any speculative transmission of a trans-mat beam into space would merely end up as dispersed Bhatacharjee radiation, an unfocussed beam of energy -

     "Of course!" he whispered, triumphantly smacking his fist against the sandy floor.  "A mid-point focus - it would all make sense!"

     Albert wondered what his companion felt so enthusiastic about.  In his mind's eye he could see millions and millions of rapacious alien monsters devouring whole continents, leeching all energy from the lifeforms on Earth.

     Although, he wondered, why hadn't they already arrived?  The Doctor's description of the bio-vores homeworld made it sound like a desert wilderness, a hellish environment they'd try to leave behind quickly.  For some reason they had instead waited five thousand years before deciding to continue with their attack on Earth.

     Alongside him the Doctor's mind ran along similar patterns.  He reached a conclusion.

     "How convincing can you be, Albert?"

     Albert felt nonplussed.  Convincing?

     "I hope you can be very convincing, Albert, because I want you to go back with the Professor and both of you return to Mersa Martuba."

     "What!" squeaked Albert.

     Can you blame the lad?


"Crowdie"

Another unusual word from Josephine Tey's "The Singing Sands" which, given the context, appears to be a foodstuff.  Art!


     It is a variety of soft cheese made from cow's milk, traditionally Scottish and most usually made by the islanders in the Hebrides and the Orkneys.  I'm afraid Inspector Grant didn't enjoy the crowdie provided for him at a meal as it was quite dry and tasteless.  Which makes for more drama than if it were passable.  Ol' Josy pokes fun at the 'Caledonian Hotel''s catering, with all the food coming from far distant lands rather than domestically as a tourist would expect.


Whilst Walking Into Lesser Sodom -

I have decided I like this nickname for Royton and will be using it in future.  If anyone from Royton is reading this and objects THE EXIT DOOR IS THAT WAY.

     There are many very large trees alongside Rochdale Road as it ascends Tandle Hill.  They are sufficiently large that, were one of their branches to fall on your head, you'd be wearing a coffin on your next trip out.  Art!


     These tree surgeons had quite a little operation going here.  There were chaps with STOP/GO signs keeping traffic from passing whilst Chainsaw Charlie on the cherry-picker got creatively destructive with the branches, dropping them to the ground where they were stuck in a wood-chipper.  Conrad pretty certain that these trees are on private land and the property owners didn't want any legal claims for dead pedestrians.If it were council land surely Babylon Lite's services have their own tree surgeons?


Finally -

Conrad took Edna for a stroll earlier this morning, when it was only spitting.  There's a persistent drizzle coming down now.  The only benefit this kind of weather has is that it keeps other dog walkers at home, so there is less opportunity for Edders to demonstrate that, in her head, she is six feet tall and masses over a hundred and fifty pounds.  No, Edna, just no.



Monday, 3 October 2022

If I Were To Say "Fly" -

Doubtless You'd Roll Your Eye

(Since you only have the one and because it rhymes better than "Eyes".

     Yes, we have a theme for the Intro.  I can also work in a picture from "Lord Of The Rings" as click-bait, because we have no scruples when it comes to enticing in victims.  Or viewers, if you prefer.  Art!


    Okay, we have a list and a deadline, so let's get cracking.

     FLY: As my Collins Concise has it, "Any dipterous insect, especially the housefly, characterised by active flight." Derived from the Old English "Fleoge".  They are Dog Buns! disgusting little swine that Conrad cordially detests and the good thing about it being October with the onset of autumn imminent is that the cold sees off the flies.  On the other hand they do provide a spectator sport to those passing The Mansion as they witness a large, elderly man jumping about the kitchen wielding a flyswatter.  Art!

Know thy enemy

     This, of course, is the image that will have immediately popped into your head.  That's not all there is to "Fly".  Art!


     This, ladies and gentleman and those unsure, is a "Jack Scott" FLY, used by fishermen to lure salmon by choice and other fish by chance.  I came across mention of it in Josephine Tey's "The Singing Sands" as the central character, Inspector Grant, is on a fly-fishing holiday in the Highlands.  These types of lures are designed to mimic the appearance of various flies and nymphs, thus tempting the fish to bite, whereupon they move from about to have dinner to becoming it.

     There is a whole sub-culture associated with fly-fishing, which Conrad finds so tedious that he's going to ignore it.

     Then of course there is the verb itself, as in "To FLY", which millions of people do on a daily basis.  Art!

Not Aeroflot

     No, indeed.  There is a cruel yet accurate joke going the rounds about the Ruffian aviation industry:  What did Russia have before the horse and cart?  Boeing and Airbus.

     ANYWAY There was also an eighteenth century horse-drawn transport for soldiers called a 'FLY' which I remember seeing illustrated in a book.  Can I find a picture of one anywhere?  No I can not!  It was essentially back-to-back benches two high, on a wheeled chassis that was hauled by a pair of horses.  The idea was being able to move relatively large numbers of men quickly.  Conrad unsure how effective it was if there's no internet presence anywhere.  Art!

Use your imagination

     Then there is the adjective FLY, British slang for a person who is all too knowing for their own good, craft, cunning and even sly.  Art!

Fly personified

     That's quite enough of that.  Time to fly!


Speaking Of Fly ...

Conrad wanted to revisit a character from "The Perils Of Penelope Pitstop", which was a kind of spin-off from "The Wacky Races".  I say 'kind of' to qualify because TWR was firmly set in the contemporary Sixties, TPOPP was set at least fifty years earlier.  Prequel?  Time travel?  Drunk scriptwriters?  Take your pick.

     ANYWAY the premise of the series was that wealthy heiress Penelope Pitstop in under the guardianship of her uncle, Sylvester Sneakly.  Art!


     No good can come from a man with a surname like that.  This is proven since SS is always trying to kill Penelope in order to inherit her fortune.  He does this by putting on a hat and cloak and assuming the identity of 'The Hooded Claw', whom, it ought to be pointed out, has neither a hood nor claws.  Perhaps all the other villain's names were taken?  Art!


     THC's schemes to kill Penelope were always convoluted, elaborate and pointless.  I know it's not in keeping with a Universal rating, but why didn't he just use a gun and shoot her?  Art!

"When the rays of the sun, focussed by this magnifying glass, burn through the rope, the anvil will fall through the trapdoor and plunge you into the basement which is flooded and full of starving rabid rats, shortly before the walls give way and release you into the bowels of the volcano -"

     You know, the kind of "Mousetrap" mind-set.  If he put the time and effort into his stocks portfolio as he did in setting dud traps, he'd be a millionaire by now.


"The Sea Of Sand"

The Doctor and Albert are both hiding beneath a collapsed tent, whispering about how they deal with the bio-vore invaders.

The sound of sand being trodden not far away led to their tense, sudden silence.  With a regular pattern the footsteps moved away into the night.

     Albert released his breath, feeling a cold sweat all over him.  That question about the trans-mat wouldn't go away, like toothache.  If they had to deal with just over fifty aliens at this precise moment, how many countless thousands might come flooding through the working trans-mat?  From what he understood - which seemed to be far less than this Doctor, who really was most mysterious himself - from what he understood, a trans-mat acted like a doorway.  A doorway here on Earth, with another door nineteen light-years away, and a person could walk through the two with no lapse of time.

     Why, there might be millions of these bio-vores waiting to flood into this world!  And these were creatures who had wilfully destroyed their own world, and all life on it, even down to the vegetation.  What unbridled mayhem might they not wreak on Earth?

     "Sorry to keep going on about it, Doctor, but can you send a trans-mat along by trans-mat?"

     The Time Lord laughed quietly.  The boy was obviously struck by matter-transmission technology!

     Well so would you be if the technology of the far future landed at your feet.


"The Singing Sands" By Josephine Tey

As warned, Conrad has been keeping notes of unfamiliar words or phrases in the text.  We've already had the 'Jack Scott' fishing lure.  Art!


     First off, "Zoffany".  Say what?  From the context it seems to be a referral to art, which is where Google comes in.  There was a very influential Teuton painter named Johan Zoffany, who rose to prominence in the later eighteenth century, and who enjoyed both royal patronage and commercial success in Britain, so let's prod Art into semi-sentience and get a picture.

Neoclassical shizzle, hmmm?

     That seems to make sense, it was describing a family in their living room.

     A few of the geographical locations are suspect, too.  There is no River Turlie, and the town of Clune only exists as a derelict estate in Glasgow, nowhere near the West Highland setting of the novel.


O Joy Unabated!

When Conrad walked into Lesser Sodom on Sunday, he passed a house flying a Manchester In The City ballfoot flag, which seemed a little odd.  It's a free country, you can FLY all the ballfoot club flags you want.  Yesteryon Your Humble Scribe discovered that there had been a 'Darby' match between MITC and The Manchester Unite, where MITC won 6:3.

     This, inevitably, led to the BBC opening a Have Your Say about the game, which is always hilarious to read when you've no involvement with either team.  There are over 2,500 Comments so I don't have time to read them all or night would have fallen.  A delicious simmer in a stew of finest Schadenfreude!

     I shall post a couple of the funnier ones.

Reply posted by Neverevenheardofhim, at 16:19 2 Oct

Neverevenheardofhim replied:
You can't even spell your own name. Cheap wine is it?

Comment posted by link2metroid, at 15:59 2 Oct

Many of the United "supporters" leaving the Ethihad before half-time for their long journeys home.

     This is a persistent jibe, that a lot of The Manchester United fans are from far away towns and cities and only support them because they used to be successful.  Personally, if I'd paid for a return ticket to Gomorrah-on-the-Irwell I'd see the game to the bitter end, those tickets aren't cheap.  "the Etihad" is the ballfoot stadium the game was played in - stop me if I get too technical.


     And with that we are done!


Sunday, 2 October 2022

The Dreaded Brass Bra Strikes Again!

 First Of All -

WASH OUT YOUR FILTHY MINDS!  The blog is as SFW as ever, Your Humble Scribe was merely playing on the old sci-fi cover convention of glamourous maidens not wearing a lot and their brassieres being consistently made of brass.

     Conrad is not up on the science and design of lingerie but strongly suspects that a bra made from brass will be extremely cold when first donned, pretty uncomfortably unyielding and likely to induce sweating.  Art!

I suppose it might be bronze

     This is an unusual cover; normally it's the brawny male protagonist wielding a weapon, with the underclad young lady swooning in his arms.

     "The Weapon Shops Of Isher" is a legitimate sci-fi novel by Voggy, seriously debating a person's right to bear arms.  Conrad's not read it himself yet.

     Interestingly enough, the artist's name is also legible - "Earle Bergey".  I feel a future article gestating about matey.

     ANYWAY on with the links.

2021

BOOJUM!: Here's A Phenomenon (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2020

BOOJUM!: Words Of Wonder (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2019

BOOJUM!: A Rooten' Tooten' (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2018

BOOJUM!: How To Put It? (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2017

BOOJUM!: Soylent Green Tea (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2016

BOOJUM!: The Situation Is - (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

BOOJUM!: Organ Swell (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2015

BOOJUM!: I Have Not Ate at Six Past Eight (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2014

BOOJUM!: Under The Whip (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

2013

BOOJUM!: Tonight! (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)





From Kraken To Squib

OR From Kraken To Squid

If that's funnier.  Conrad has been seeing the word 'subpoena' bandied about on social media for ages, usually in connection with Mr. Donald Trump and those associated with him, and just accepted it as part of the media background.

     So what is it?

     The word itself translates from the Latin <hack spit> as 'Under penalty', meaning that the person served with a subpoena is legally required to attend a court on a certain date.  Art!

A Kraken awakened.  Must have got our of bed on the grumpy side.

     What's all this about Krakens?  O I thought you'd never ask!  If you remember after Mr. Donald Trump lost the election he had lawyers raising case after case protesting this, to the total of sixty.  Of those doing the raising was one Sidney Powell, who had wicked parents.  Art!

El Sid

     "We are going to raise the Kraken!" she vowed, making wild statements in public, and then doing nothing of the sort and avoiding any mention of fraud in court, because perjury; this is the squib bit.  Or squid, if it's funnier.  In fact she got so bonkers that she only found out she'd been fired when the news reported it.

     I know, I know, what does this have to do with subpoenas?  PATIENCE!

     Dominion Voting Systems got fed up with her fibs and decided to sue her for defamation for about £1 billion, which is not a typo - £1,000,000,000.  In order to proceed, Ol' Sid had to be served with the witness summons document, which is done via a third party who has to physically present them to those summoned.

     Ol' Sid demonstrated her innocence, conscience and faith in legal outcomes by running away.  Art!

For an old gel she could put on a burst of speed

     Her logic was that, if Dominion couldn't find her, then she couldn't be served with the summons document and thus wouldn't have to appear in court and nobody could charge her, everybody lived happily ever after.

     Ah - no.

     Having got the bit between their teeth, Dominion weren't giving up.  They hired a private detective agency to track her down.  She got served.  She may also get disbarred for all her frivolous legal cases.  O and - Art?

What's wrong with this picture?

     No Damp Squib Sid!  She was supposed to turn up for a Special Grand Jury and testify.  I wonder that the penalty for non-compliance with a subpoena is?


The Biter Bit

Conrad subscribes to the Youtube channel of Suchomimus, who, before the war in Ukraine broke out, used to do occasional vlogs about dinosaur fossils.  He's an expat from Nottingham who's been working in Taiwan for the past 8 years, and he has a gift for understatement.  One of his more recent vlogs was about a Ruffian mine-clearing robot, which looks as cool as it sounds.  Art!

Uran-6 with puny humans for scale

     The idea is that the Uran will chug along and detonate any mines present with flails (or a roller) as invented by Perfidious Albion during the Second Unpleasantness.  Conrad reckons they cost about $1 million each and Ol' Such reckoned the Ruffians had eight of them.

     Designed by computers, built by robots - but operated by Ruffians.  What could possibly go wrong?  Art!


     It could get blown up on a mine.  The living depiction of irony.  We would never have known if an anonymous Ruffian grunt hadn't taken this picture.  Thanks, Sergei.  Obviously the phrase 'Operational Security' is simply word-salad to you.


Pizza Delivery From Hades

If you recall, OP had quit his awful job under his equally awful boss, whom I had dubbed 'Shouty Gobs****'.  Because OP had proof of being fired, namely a text on his phone, he was thus entitled to claim unemployment benefit from SG FOR SIX MONTHS.  Doubtless this would send SG into a frothing rage when he realised this when the paperwork arrived.  Art!


     When OP swung by on Monday to hand his shirts back, the pizza shop was closed, with a hand-written sign saying "Closed due to lack of staff".  He left the shirts in a nearby skip ("Dumpster to you South Canadians out there).

     On Thursday his ex-boss shows up at his door demanding that he come back in for Friday, their busiest day.  OP refuses.  Shouty goes into a rant that he's spending so much on Doordash to deliver his pizzas that he's going to go bust AND IT'S ALL OP'S FAULT.  Art!


     OP tells him to get stuffed, then closes the door.  Shouty keeps on shouting about how he's going to sue for job abandonment - an act that does not exist - and how his kids are going to starve and be homeless.  Eventually he stalks off toward his car, which encourages OP to be magnificently petty, as they stick their head out of the door and shout "Your pizza ****s and you ***k if you think one driver can save your awful business.  I hope you do go bankrupt so I can laugh at you panhandling on a street corner in a month, you cheap bottomhole".

     Predictably this sends Shouty into a paroxysm of rage and they come back to bash on the door and scream obscenities, which prompts a neighbour to call the cops.  Three squad cars turn up and Shouty, a shrunken man, has to explain what he was doing and why.

     It turns out that Shouty had been at other ex-workers homes trying to scream and insult them back to work.  OP and these people are now going to hire an attorney and see how they can legally drop SG in the excrement.  Tee hee!

Shouty a month later

"The Sea Of Sand"

As you recall, Albert had driven back to the excavations to warn the Doctor that Italians now held the depot at Mersa Martuba.

"So they can't come through from the other end?" asked Albert, seemingly grasping the concept of matter-transmission with impressive speed.

     "Not yet.  The damage is minor and repairable.  You were able to get in here undetected because so many of them are working on repairs.  We have gained a breathing space, nothing more."

     They didn't dare use light in the stuffy little den, so Albert's dejection only came across in his tone.

     "Oh.  That's not much help, is it?"

     "Chin up, old chap," murmured the Doctor encouragingly.  "Time is on our side, not theirs.  I've viewed their home-world, you see."

     The concept of motile holographic displays, the location of Delta Pavonis and the bio-vore lifestyle took creative explanation to make sense to Albert.  His grasp of the trans-mat enabled him to ask another intelligent question.

     "So you can send anything at all by trans-mat?"

     "Well, broadly speaking, Albert.   Inorganic matter is easier, and smaller objects obviously require less power and computer processing -"

     "No, no, that's not - what I meant was how can they put a trans-mat here in the first place?  With a rocket ship?"

     This puzzles the Doctor and I confess I've forgotten the how as well.  Oops!


More Of Lord Peter's Crossword

There was a Note about the solution ICTUS, because if you add the Roman numeral V for five, it became VICTUS, And ICTUS is also to do with 'feet' in verse or somesuch.  

     Here's another: "By this Jew's work the whole we find; In a glass clearly, darkly in the mind"

     And the solution is SPINOZA, who wrote about philosophy and the science of optics.  That makes it all okay then.  Art!

Spinny + wig







Saturday, 1 October 2022

O Delicious Schadenfreude!

Yes, Conrad Is A Terrible Person

But we knew that already.  For those unaware, "Schadenfreude" is Teuton for 'A malicious enjoyment of other people's misery', and not only is it delicious, it's also calorie-free, as I consistently point out.

     Before we get onto that, I want to put up a couple of photographs taken by ex-colleague Justin.  In the workplace he knew everything and could do anything, and in his free time he liked to run up and down hills and mountains.  Horses for courses, Conrad would deem that a cruel and un-natural punishment.  He also has a fine eye for a photograph, making grimy grey Manchester look cool and unusual.  He put up a bunch of photos yesteryon and I really liked two of them, so enquired if BOOJUM! could use them and he agreed.  Art!


     Very evocative, hmmm?  It looks like a set from a Fifties horror film with an Unspeakable Thing hidden in the cellar.

     As Jason explained, this is the rear of the Midland Hotel in Gomorrah-on-the-Irwell.  Art!


     Still picturesque yet nowhere near as sinister.  Art!


     More futuristic, hmmm?  This is a campus building for Manchester Metropolitan University.  Bet it gets used as an exterior shot in a sci-fi film one day.

     ANYWAY let's get back to malicious enjoyment of other people's falling into a sausage-making machine.  Unusually, this one comes from Quora, not Youtube, and was about a South Canadian law firm where one attorney liked to go golfing on Friday afternoons.  However, he always instructed his secretary to lie about where he was and what he was doing.  The whole office knew anyway.  Art!

Vampires in daylight?  Surely not!

     Then, one Friday afternoon, their IT technician came to see this attorney - we'll call him Sigismund, because I like the name - with a stack of CDs that had the complete details of 30 cases the law firm was dealing with.  Could he hand them over to Sigismund? he asked the secretary.  She gave her usual reply, at which point OP starts paying attention, because she said he really was out with a client, and she brings up the name of another law firm.  OP calls them and speaks with one of the partners, who said Siggy was setting himself up as his own law firm as of Monday and had been informing other law firms about this - but had absolutely no intention of informing his actual employers about this.  He had intended to steal those 30 cases to set himself up.

     OP immediately gets the IT chap to block all Siggy's access to the firm's IT, telling his secretary that it's part of a planned maintenance procedure.  The CDs are binned and the IT chap fields increasingly desperate calls from Siggy over the weekend because he can't access anything.

Judge Dread

     Siggy never returned to the office.  When IT chap and OP reviewed the files on his firm-issued laptop, the <insert euphemism for pornography> present guaranteed they would not be hearing from him ever again.


Surely You Jest?

As you should surely know by now, Conrad keeps this blog sincerely SFW, so this next item is going to be a bit tricky.  You see, from the corner of my eye I saw an advert for what was called a 'shower toilet' with a short clip of it in action.  "Gerber Acquaclean" said the end screen.  What on earth is a 'Shower Toilet' and how can it possibly work?

     Had I imagined what I'd seen?  Google aid me.  Art!

Looks innocent enough

     Imagine you are Going About Your Business, when SUDDENLY!  Art!


     This pops out and sprays warm water up your butt.

     Conrad thinks this will be a hard sell in This Sceptred Isle since we never experienced the Continental love of bidets.

     Nice to know that my peripheral vision is as good as ever.


"The Sea Of Sand"

The Doctor had been crawling back to his hide in the collapsed tent when he espied another person with the same idea.

Both reached the tent and the other person entered the hide simultaneously with him.

     "Albert!" hissed the Doctor, not happy to see the young man back at the dig and in danger again.

     "Doctor!" exclaimed Albert, frightened by the Time Lord's sudden appearance.

     "I do hope you have an eminently good reason for returning here, Albert," scolded the Doctor quietly but insistently a few seconds later.

     "I do, I do," insisted Albert.  "The Italians have captured Mersa Martuba, The Professor and I saw the battle.  It didn't last long, there were loads of Italians with armoured cars and machine-guns and flares."

     "Where is the professor?" asked the Doctor, suddenly worried.  He didn't mention the other person whose fate sent a ripple of worry up his spine: Sarah Jane.  She'd been back at the depot, too.

     "Oh, he's alright, he's away back in the desert beyond the campsite tents.  I asked him to drop me off.  We realised if you got out of here then you'd head back to the depot and be captured, maybe even killed, so we needed to come back and warn you."

     The Doctor felt absurdly grateful.  Faced with mortal peril, this young man had chosen to return to the dig, to warn a stranger about what he might walk into.  He briefly explained about damaging the alien's trans-mat device.

     Ah, Hom. Sap at it's finest!


Culture Shock

Of a kind.  As you should surely know, Conrad thinks highly of the author Josephine Tey, so it was quite a catch to find one of her Inspector Grant novels that I hadn't read in a charity shop.  Art!


     One problem of reading murder mysteries like this is that they take place in a long-gone milieu; Dot Sayers is especially prone to this as her stuff was written over ninety-five years ago in a few cases.  "The Singing Sands" dates from 1952, so only seventy years ago.  I shall have to keep my notebook to hand if any baffling words or phrases turn up.  I won't hesitate to keep you informed, as I know you thirst for knowledge of these things.


Vaughn To Lose

I know, I know, it's a terrible title.  Still, whose blog is it?  Exactly.

     You will never have heard of Vaughn Meader.  Let me bring up a picture to help you process this.  Art!

Vaughn Meader                        JFK

     Vaughn began his career as a musician, then recorded an album that spoofed JFK, which sold in incredible numbers.  He went on the road to do his impersonation and had television appearances, too.  Art!

Released in 1962 to enormous success

     You can guess where this is going.  When JFK was assassinated, that was the end of Vaughn's comedy career.  He went back to being a musician and enjoyed a certain degree of success in that.


That Dog Buns! Crossword

Bit of a love-hate relationship with the Lord Peter Wimsey crossword, as it was ridiculously difficult but it generates blog content.  Here's one that I might have gotten eventually: "Blow upon blow; five more the vanquished Roman shows; And if the foot slip one, on crippled feet one goes."

     The solution?  ICTUS.

     Hmmmm this is Latin for HIT and as I say, I might have gotten it from 'Blow' as in the sense of 'Smiting'.  Or perhaps not.  Art!

Close enough

     And with that, Vulnavia, we well and truly resemble a cooked steak.




If I Were To Say "L.S.D." -

I Would First Have To Slap You Into Sensibleness

Because, being the dirty-minded guttersnipes that you are, you would inevitably read that as the abbreviation for "Lysergic Acid Di-Ethyl Amide", a semi-synthetic hallucinogen which is highly illegal, and don't forget DRUGS ARE BAD M'KAY.  Art!

Acid jazz

     No, what I meant was to do - what's that?  Why is it a 'semi-synthetic'?

     O very well.  First, to make LSD you need ergotamine tartrate, and to make ET you need ergot, which is a mould that grows on wheat.  Art!

     So, first catch your fungi.  But beware! for if you ingest any ergot you will be afflicted with what was known as 'Saint Anthony's Fire'.  This came in two varieties; with the first, victims experienced burning sensations in their limbs as well as hallucinations; with the second their circulatory system failed in peripheral organs, often leading to gangrene and DEATH.
     Okay, AS I WAS SAYING 'L.S.D.' stands for "Landing Ship Dock', a type of naval vessel used in amphibious warfare.  Art!


   This is one of three 'Bay' class LSD as used by the Royal Navy.  What makes them special is hidden in this shot, so let me motivate Art with this red-hot fork -


     As you can see, it has a well at the rear that accommodates smaller ships capable of ship-to-shore operations.  There don't appear to be any photographs of what the well looks like, so it's probably that the Senior Service like to keep it a teensy bit secret.  I do have another picture.  Art!


     A cavernous maw indeed.

     The reason these ships exist is because it is far easier and efficient to launch craft from a well than it is to lower them over the side on davits or cranes, especially if the sea is at all rough.

     And there we have it.


Today's MalCom

That's Malicious Compliance to you.  To set the scene, in South Canada wages in service jobs are usually the legal minimum, and people depend on tips to make a decent wage.  Today's Original Poster was a delivery driver for a chain pizza shop which was open 11:00 to 00:00 - midnight.  The boss was one of those graduates of the school of manglement who firmly believed that people worked more efficiently if you screamed abuse at them.  Art!

(Fake smile)

     At first the business had 16 drivers to cover a huge catchment area.  Thanks to Shouty Gobsh*** a couple quit every month and weren't replaced, Eventually OP is the only driver left, only getting home at 02:00, having customers coming into the shop getting angry at being told by SG that their order will be ready in 15 minutes when it's at least an hour, having SG being an SG, and finally calling OP a lazy <insert big swear here>.

     Bad idea.  OP dropped the stack of pizzas he was carrying, got his stuff, went outside and threw the 'topper' (see above picture) from his car into the shop and left.

     Having turned his phone off, SG by next day had sent 5 texts and a panicky voicemail from SG.  Art!


     Friday rolls around and SG calls OP to say that he's late, it's already busy and there are 20 pizzas waiting to be delivered.  After another 7 texts the latest one is "I'm gonna sue you for ruining my business and job abandonment!"

     'Job Abandonment' does not exist.

     ANYWAY SG fires OP by text - this man's skull must be denser than neutronium if he cannot realise that OP already QUIT - which means OP can file for unemployment benefits and SG is on the hook to pay these for six months.

     O but it gets better!  Apparently SG's fits of rage on Friday and Saturday caused him to lose four more staff, including his only daytime driver.  The only person left apart from him is the General Manager.

     The story's nowhere near over but I'll leave it there for the moment.  Expect part 2 shortly!


"The Sea Of Sand"

The Doctor has emerged from the archive building he'd been snooping about in, and is plotting mischief.

Fortunately for him, their patrolling was no longer aimed at tracking down the person responsible for damaging the trans-mat.  In fact, more and more of the bio-vores were working on the damaged pylon, fetching various unfamiliar pieces of equipment from the cuboidal building that had housed their weapons and equipment.

     He headed back to the collapsed canvas hide, glad to see that no webbed footprints led to it, remaining prone in the dark and with his gluey, gritty coat providing protection.

     A jerky movement away to his left caught his attention and he paused, trying to discern shape or movement in the dark, almost dismissing it as imagination before seeing an irregular patch of desert move forward in a flapping motion.  This peculiar motion took place twice, and by simple extrapolation the Doctor realised the strange, ungainly object had the same destination as he did - the canvas hide.

     By the time he got to the lip of the collapsed screen, the other object became less puzzling - a man hiding beneath a tent for cover, scurrying a few yards forward at a time.

     Hmmmmm I know who it is because I looked ahead, but you lot will just have to wait and see.


Back To That List Of 8 Horrors

 - supposedly spookier and scarier than Pennywise the Clown.  Well, we'll see, as Your Humble Scribe wasn't especially bothered by the first one.  Art!

Nina Madeiros from "Rec"

     Once again colour Conrad not impressed.  I've seen the film and this hag's sudden appearance has a certain shock factor, though only because it's sudden.

     Not only that, all the text on the page has suddenly gone blurred.  Conrad has probably exceeded his free views or summat.  No great loss.


Well Well Well A Great Big Sell

Here's a headline from the BBC:

Phil Collins and two Genesis bandmates sell song catalogue for a reported $300m

     And there's a picture of the gurning trio.  Art!


     What this means is that all the pop rubbish they did since the departure of Steve Hackett and especially Peter Gabriel is now owned by a record label.  Good riddance.  I hope that $100 million each means you never make another record again.  Sell-outs.  Art!


     That's them when they were prog, and good as well.

     Bah!


That Dog Buns! Crossword Again

I just need a short item here to get close to the Adjusted Compositional Ton, so here's another clue:"One of three by which they say; You'll know the Cornishmen alway".

     What's the solution?  TRE

     Yes yes yes, I bet Lord Peter Wimsey would understand it.  Conrad - not so much.  Let me consult my Collins Concise.

     Nope.  The first word to begin with TRE is TREACHERY, which I think this is.  There is a Cornish name, "TRELAWNEY", does it refer to that?

     Aha!  Google be my friend.  Art!


     Don't ask me - apparently LPW is fluent in the Cornish language.


Finally -

Conrad is pondering whether or not to take Edna for a trot.  I did take her out earlier this morning, a trot that was cut short by rain.  It's dry now, even if it's overcast and the clouds look angry.  Should we chance it?