The Forbidden Planet

I Know What You're Thinking
Also probably groaning at, too.  I can hear your thoughts - "Oh no, what excuse has he dreamed up that allows him to go banging on about that film with Robbie the Robot again?"
     Ha!  You should have been paying closer attention, gentle reader, because that title includes the definite article, to wit "The".  So, no, the post is not about that film again - although I could run to a quick 500 word dissertation on the disconnect between Krell science and human technology - no?  you're sure? - okay.  What I refer to here is actually a comic strip - what if I condensed it to 300 words?  Still no? - okay, okay - featuring Captain Condor.  I think we can kick that sluggard Art into providing an illustration.  Art?

How absurd - named after a bird!

     FYI, the good captain was pretty obviously intended to be a competitor for the noble Dan Dare - a moment's respectful silence for a man who never swore or drank anything stronger than tea - and featured in the comic "Lion", which had - how about edited down to 150 words?  Final offer not persuasive?  okay, okay - which had it's glory days in the early to mid Sixties.  Art?

A pride of Lions?

     This long preamble is because Conrad still remembers reading a Captain Condor story, a reprint, in the early Seventies: "The Forbidden Planet".  Spaceships were being kept away from landing on or exploring a particular planet because of terrifying monsters that lurked in the vicinity.
     Except it wasn't quite that simple.  This planet had a humanoid population who were desperately trying to keep visitors away with projected visions of monsters, because they had been infiltrated and nearly over-run by evil aliens - evidenced when the good Captain's ship approaches, only for a rock to suddenly acquire eyes and balefully watch it land.
     These aliens aren't exactly shape-shifters; they cause people to see them as they want to be seen as - a rock, a tree, an empty spacesuit or another human being.  Very creepy, for a ten-year old!
     Sorry, no amount of Googling will bring up any trace of this story.  But - it is present in the first "Starlord" annual, so maybe ...

"Rip Solar"?  More like Rip Off ...

     Well, there you have a brief glimpse of British comics as they were a very long time ago.

O look what accidentally popped up ...

"Passengers"
Be advised that there are SPOILERS ahead, as I am talking about the fillum starring Chris Pratt and Jessica Lawrence.  You may choose to close your eyes, or scroll down really really fast, or read on, in which case if you choose the latter don't complain if Conrad's relentlessly logical brain destroys that willing suspension of disbelief.

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Just along for the ride

REALLY!  SPOILERS!

     Okay, that's enough warning.  Firstly, I have to say that the starship "Avalon" is realised wonderfully, the art department and set designers really did well here and the ship looks good.  So does Jennifer Lawrence, because we get to see her in a bikini; I think someone at producer level is a bit of a perv here, frankly.  You can just see them in a meeting, tongue barely restrained from hanging out:  "Yeah yeah and then - and then - she goes swimming! and - and - she goes swimming in a bikini - and - er -  this illustrates - er - stuff."
     Yes, thank you.

You didn't think I'd be posting bikini pictures, did you?

     Now, the root cause of the disasters impacting the ship is damage to it's reactor, which happens two years before the Deck Chief gets woken up.  At no point are there any warnings about the reactor being damaged, despite this damage meaning the ship will shortly explode.  I would say that someone goofed in designing safety protocols in the software.  Oh, and Deck Chief Gus has to order the ship to illustrate the cascade of failures that will destroy the Avalon - this information is apparently not critical or important enough for the crew to be informed.
     Ah yes the crew.  Two years after suffering mission-critical damage, the relevant technical experts are still in hibernation.  Must be hideously deformed to need that much beauty sleep, eh?

The dilemma: have an extra forty winks  - or allow the ship to explode.  Tough call!

     Then there's the reactor itself.  We see it on the brink of exploding, all but shattering the delicate glass observation wall - wait, what? - at Aurora is watching through, yet which subsequently is perfectly fine for the rest of the journey, despite spitting out bolts and rivets.  
     Then we - except I've gone on about this far too long and still have Edna-related material to add in for the benefit of Wonder Wifey.

An Update Of Sorts
Whilst dog-sitting Conrad adheres to a schedule; shorter walk for Edna in the morning, a longer one in the afternoon.  The longer one came immediately after I'd returned from shopping, an absence of at least 20 minutes and which Edna was not happy about, not one bit.
     So, I took her off to our Private Paddock at Tandle Hill Park.  Art?

The approach

     I call it private as I've never met anyone on either the path or the meadow, only cows on a single occasion.  You have to keep an eye on the furry little scamp as there is a large hole she's expressed an unhealthy interest in exploring once before.  
     Once off the lead she dashes madly across the pastures - Art?

Edna is that dark spot mid-left

     She runs around a lot, so it's difficult to catch her in shot.
     Well, I think that's it.  I shall go and work on that 500 word 

"I also object to that crack about surnames and birds, Conrad."

     - oh.  That's me told, then.  Okay, off to plan a bit of atom-bombing the Moon.

Is It A Bird? Is It A Plane? (Again)

No I Am Not Repeating Myself
I'm not quite that senile - and before you add in "yet" be warned that I have very sharp hearing - that I carry on saying the same thing ad nauseum.  Not at all.  Well, okay, sometimes, but only when it's funny.
     Yesterday was all about flying Daleks, because otherwise - STAIRS!  I have to say that the comics - "graphic serial art reconstructions" is too much of a mouthful even if that's what they are - had flying Daleks a long time before the dramamentary did, because - SPECIAL EFFECTS! The Beeb used to be very stingy when it came to an SFX budget; remember for at least a decade that the lethality of the Dalek's blasters was indicated by merely switching contrast.

A reprise of yesterday

     We now change direction from a comic to real life, because I can.  And also because of a British inventor who appears to be an archetypal mad scientist.  Step forward Richard Browning.  Be careful when he does though, because -

Wheeee!

     - there tends to be a bit of a downdraught.   He's wearing an exoskeleton, six miniature jet engines and a helmet with a Head-Up Display, prompting the media (who can be a bit lazy) to call him "Iron Man".  I suppose "Carbon-fibre Laminate And Titanium Man" doesn't roll off the tongue quite as easily.
     Now, supposedly this thing can easily achieve an airspeed of 200 m.p.h.v and a height of several thousand feet*, and achieve it easily.  The word "Wow!" comes to mind.  Mr. Browning asserts that his invention is merely a bit of fun.  Oh yeah?

Tony Stark beware!

     The Civil Aviation Authority are currently humming and hawing about this piece of kit and how to regulate it, since it comes under the heading of Human Propulsion Technology.  At the very least you''d be required to wear a parachute with it, because falling from several thousand feet can severely impact your survivability, in addition to anything you hit.
     One other thing - if this HPT suit does become an item, you can expect Marvel's lawyers to be on the case instanter.

Look!  It's Carbon-fibre Laminate And Titanium Man!  Oh no - hang on -

     Now we have today's fascinating and informative Intro out of the way, time to ponder anon.

Perfidious Albion
Ah yes, the wicked Brits, ever smiling yet plotting deviously to do you in via devilish means, which you never saw coming.  Either with the positively evil Grand Slam, which makes a colossally big bang, to the Welrod pistol, which makes none at all.  Then we have the 81 mm 3 Inch mortar.  Art?

The Devil's Drainpipe

     This particular weapon has a very definite range limit; you stick a number of charges on the bomb and it goes to a certain distance.
     Unless, that is, you pour a pint of petrol down the tube before dropping the bomb down it.  This extra oomph helps the mortar bomb go a lot further than it ought to, and has led to some unpleasantly surprised bad guys.  Needless to say, Conrad urges you not to try this at home.
     Albion - Perfidious because we practice at it**.

Pimento
Conrad has for many years enjoyed scoffing olives stuffed with pimento.  For all he knows you do, too.  Until yesterday your humble scribe had never bothered about what a pimento was, exactly.  I mean, there's only a sliver of it in an olive, so what does it matter?
     Well, if your curiosity gets the better of you, it does indeed matter.  
     So, presto!  The pimento:

     It's obviously a variety of pepper, sweeter than the average capsicum.
    There you go, the pimento.
     Thanks, curiosity.

Give Me Not Giffgaff
Conrad is sitting typing this on the settee, despondent dog at his side (the laptop is on my lap rather than Edna, so she is indulging in a little sulking and whimpering), looking out the window whenever a bus goes by.
     No!  I am not checking if First Bus is sticking to their schedule - though they seem to be doing well.  No, I am talking about the bus posters plastered on their sides.  They have been pimping "The Boss Baby" and "Prettylittlething" incessantly and the only novelty has been something called "Giffgaff".

It's a gaff

     I suspect that Giffgaff is something to do with the Devil Box, which I hate with a passion.  So - come on, First, give me something to work with! 



*  Only ever Imperial measures here on BOOJUM!
**  Tee hee!