We Have A Theme!

No! I Am Not Talking About The Byzantine Military-cum-Political Unit
Which underpinned their empire for a good 400 years at least, from the seventh century to the very end, which you can nominally state was about 1460, when Trebizond (as was) fell to the Ottomans and became Trabzon - 
     And yet again we begin with something that's not what this particular BOOJUM! is about, although you really ought to get yourself some John Julius Norwich and discover a bit of Byzantine history.

A right riveting read

     If you are new to the blog WHICH YOU SHOULD NOT BE, then you may not be aware that we occasionally pick a particular subject and concentrate on it, until either all the humour or the facts or both have been squeezed out of it, like a lemon slice in a vice*.
     So today I thought we'd go all out about GIANT ANIMALS!!  The topic has been broached already, and last night, whilst also watching episode 6 of "Ragnarok", I was busy making a list of notes for blog topics.  Art?

     Once upon a time this would have been 4 words scribbled in an A8 notepad.
     Okay, so, let us ease into the subject with - Art?

KITTEN KONG**!

     This is an episode of "The Goodies" that you whippersnappers have probably never heard of, let alone seen, from The Seventies when <Mister Hand intervenes to edit out several thousand words of loathsome self-pitying nostalgia> at Montreaux.  All ends well, apart from television presenter Michael Aspel, who gets crushed by Twinkle (the kitten).             
                 

     Now to continue with the considerably less cuddly GIANT MOLE from "City of Ember".  I don't know what it is about being rendered huge, it's just that GIANT MOLES seem to become ravenng meat-eating monsters.  Remember that GIANT MOLE from "The Menace in Pit 13"?  Yeah, a big meat eater also.  Art?


     Conrad, putting on his Scientific Adviso

r hat, speculates that this is because a mole normally eats worms to survive.  Imagine the sheer tonnage of worms a mole the size of a family car would need to consume in order to survive! and consider how much more efficient and time-saving it would be to instead dine on Hom. Sap.  Though you we would have to have Mister Massive Mole roll over us a few times to tenderise the meat and crush the bones into consumable pieces***.
     Right, back to another comic series, but a text one with illustrations, rather than the usual strip art: "The Last Six Hundred".  Art?

GREAT SQUEAKING BATS!!

       No, I am not aghast and amazed that we have another GIANT HEDGEHOG story, after "The March of the Prickly Giant".  I picked this illustration up at random, and look at the text five lines down - "Trebizon Hotel".  Bitten by the Coincidence Hydra AGAIN!
     <takes calming draught of gin>
     Right, in TLSH we find that all animals across the globe have grown to gigantic size, which has of course caused the destruction of all civilisation, apart from six hundred plucky Brits who live on the Isle of Wight.  Pretty bleak, hmmm?  Conrad is unaware of how it ends, if it did, and whether the six hundred dwindle to none hundred or go on to reconquer the planet.
     Then there is "Land of the Giants".  Conrad is not sure if he ought to include this, as you might argue that everything is normal-sized, it's just the interlopers from the future who are midgets.  Regardless, Art?


     Conrad is sorry he can't identify this creature; evidently some strange wildlife native to South Canada.  Probably a "posum" as I believe they're called.
     And no, it's not exactly a convincing special effect, it is?  In fairness, they probably weren't expecting nit-pickers and pictorial pedants picking over their television program 50 years later.
     Then we have the granddaddy of them all: Jonathan Swift's "Brobdignag", which surely inspired LOTG, as the protagonist Gulliver is shipwrecked on a land where everything is huge, including the animals.  Art?

Again with the GIANT RATS!

     Though there is also an encounter with a GIANT CAT.  Art?

"How strange!" thought Tiddles.  "Walking cat-food.  Whatever will they think of next!"

     It's "A" level time at nightschool since I read "Gulliver's Travels" so I can't remember all the interactions our hero has with GIANT ANIMALS.  He goes on to have adventures aboard Laputa, the flying city, so he must have got the better of the feline above.
     Jumping forward several centuries, we revert to the GIANT HEDGEHOG trope again.  I bet you never realised how many interations of GIANT HEDGEHOGS there are out there, hmmmmm?
      Okay, in this advert, first you saw the consequences of some ghastly entity that is crushing cars.  Art?

Ignore the arm and phone lead, okay?

     That's at least three drivers crushed to death, and don't try any of that "O they were only parked up" as it won't cut it - a narrow country lane in the middle of nowhere and three cars are randomly parked there?  NO!
     Okay, after 18 seconds we get a clear view of what's caused this mayhem.  Art?

     An hedgehog as big as a bus.  "That makes a refreshing change!" burbles some witless onlooker, happily endorsing MASS MURDER, MISTER!!
     Of course, I could be overthinking this ...
     Finally, let us go out in a blaze of gunk, with some low-budget schlockbuster called "The Food of the Gods", allegedly inspired by poor dead H G Wells, whose work might even be in the public domain by now.  Art?

"Based upon a portion of - " well, that says it all, really

     Generally, the more skin the young lady on the poster is showing, the worse the film.  I think you'll find this an iridium-clad law.

     And with that our first post of the day is done!

*  A poetical image for you. You're welcome.
**  There's going to be a lot of upper case today.  Just so you know.
***  Yes, this is a ghoulish detail.  I know you love them so.

Be Still, You Wriggling Cow!

I Know What You're Thinking
And no, I am not taking a cheap shot at some vapid celebritute who's pining for the spotlight, though if Conrad were to put <insert talentless gimboid who is only famous thanks to an expensive agent here> you'd all purse your lips and nod, musing that people with names beginning with "K" do seem to tell you all about how their liposuction and lunch went, with pictures of both.  Art?

Art, you bafoon!

     <sigh> yes, that's "Kitchener of Khartoum", a chap with a gimlet stare and a positively volcanic temper when irked.  If you enquired about what he had for lunch you'd get a very peculiar look, and were you rash enough to mention "Liposuction" I imagine he'd slap you so hard your aunt would feel it, for being "lewd".
     No, what I wanted to blather about in today's Intro was a word that came up in the MEN's Codeword.  Art?

 

     Ooops.  Sorry about the rotation.  I refer to "Undulates", which as we all know has a Latin root: "Undula" or "Wave" and thus we get our modern word that can mean an entity with a wavy motion.  Wriggling, if you will.
     Well, you know Conrad.  A mind that jumps from topic to topic with absolutely no encouragement.
     "How strange!" I pondered.  "That word is only three letters away from "Ungulates".  I wonder where that word comes from?"
     I'm so glad I asked myself that question.  Latin is the answer, of course - from "Ungula", meaning "Hoof", in reference to hooved animals that have either odd or even-numbered cloven hooves.  Art?

Thus

     And there you have today's modest yet informative Intro.
     No, motley, that's not a cow.  It's a bull, and you're in it's field.  I suggest you -

Jumping Madly To A Completely Different Topic -
Conrad does not often comment on painted art, as, along with Politics, Religion, Current Affairs and whether Bake Off should have stayed with the BBC, it divides opinion.  Your Humble Scribe has a fondness for the lithograpy of Escher and Piranesi, for the sensuality of Klimt's mature works, and Italian Futurism.  Also the works of Chris Foss and Bruce Pennington, whom you would know from sci-fi cover art.
     So, let us commune over - 

"Isle of the Dead!

     The most famous painting that Arnold Bocklin ever did, and which was incredibly popular before and after the turn of the twentieth century.  In fact, if times got hard, Ol' Arnie merely did another version of the above, then sold it for £££.
     Part of the picture's appeal is that there is no explanation given for what we're looking at: you can see a boat being rowed to an island where various rooms or tombs have been carved out of the living rock, the whole dominated by cypress trees, and that's it.
     Conrad, of course, has his own tasteless modern interpretation.

"My God!  I can't believe I bought a timeshare in this!"

     Your mileage may vary.

Whilst On The Subject Of Art
I did threaten you with a narrative about one of the comic strips I used to read as a smaller and younger version of myself, didn't I?  Namely "The Steel Claw".  Conrad had never seen or read the origin story, mostly because it was published years before the comics I was reading, and all you had to go on was the expository blurb in a panel at the beginning of each strip. 
     However.  Lucky you - I have a couple of photographs for you.  Art?

     No, that's merely a symbolic Steel Claw at starboard.  Louis, you see, lost his right hand in a laboratory accident, and had it replaced with a steel one, which is incredibly well-designed.  It gives him the full span of a normal hand's functions, as well as being rather handy in a fist fight.
     Anyway, the origins - Art?

     As you can see - do you see what I did - O you do - when Louis undergoes a high-voltage and amperage electric shock, he becomes invisible, as does what he's wearing at the time, all except for his steel claw.
     For the first series Louis was out to extort, blackmail and nuclear-bomb his way to wealth and riches by using his invisibility.  Professor Barringer, exhibiting a saintly level of compassion and guilt, manages to track Louis down before he destroys New York, and persuades him to undergo therapy, arguing that the initial explosion and electrical assault had temporarily deranged him.
     And from then on, Louis is on the side of good.  Hoorah!  Art?

Steady on, Louis - you sound like a junkie chasing a fix!

     The excellent and moody artwork was by the Spanish artist Jesus Blasco, a fitting match for Crandell, who finds himself infamous for all the wrong reasons.  I am currently 147 pages into the compilation discovered earlier this week, which has <ahem> led to BOOJUM! taking a back seat at times*.  
     You definitely would NOT be able to run stories like this one nowadays, as the moral guardians of our Health and Safety would jib instantly lest young and stupid readers mimicked their hero, wrapping tinfoil around their hands and finding high-tension power lines to grab onto, ending up as ash.  Yes, the world has moved on and is in some ways a better place for it bring back lead paint and glassblowing kits for children!

Art - no.  NO!  Entirely the wrong kind of Ash.
O I give up.  Vulnavia, bring me my trough of gin.

Finally - 
One consequence of Covid-19 has been the complete suspension of the ballfoot game, which leaves Your Humble Scribe in a state of icy disconcern, as he is not remotely interested in it.  Thus it was he read with some surprise in Wednesday's MEN that they were boasting about SIX PAGES of coverage re. The Manchester United and Manchester Town (I think, I don't really pay that much attention).

The United City of Manchester

     How on earth can you have one page, let alone half a dozen, when there isn't any ballfoot being played?
     With the announcement that it is to return in June, however, there is hope for my horrid hate-filled heart.  Art?

Ignore ballfoot players
(and thumb)

     In case your optics are weak, that's 2,501 Comments, which will be a septic stew of shrieking sewage - which is the best kind of Comment to read!

     And with that, we are so truly done.  Done done done!


*  And a big "So What"? to you all.  It's not as if you have to pay to read this stuff, is it?
Heck, even a Comment or two would be nice.

"We Fear Change"

If You Take Nothing Else From Wayne And Garth -
Remember that phrase, for it rings true of Your Humble Scribe, who has just had a bash at the new Blogger iteration, and who didn't like it very much.

Some changes you can't avoid.  Dude.

  For one thing, the Trebuchet font comes out exactly the same as the Times font, which is like waking up one morning and finding that Ripper, your faithful Doberman and pride of the Killer Kennel Klub, has transmuted into Tiddles, a picky ginger tomcat.

Quite possibly Tiddles.

     And this new Blogger format will arrive in late June, like it or not.  
     Okay, time to wheel on the Giant Rats!  I still haven't found that strip from "The Victor", and it doesn't feature in the various illustrated shortcuts that your go-to website about that comic has listed.

http://www.victorhornetcomics.co.uk/victorpage1.html

     That's the link, lest you mistrust me.  There is that other website with all the compilation stories, numbering in the hundreds, that would take hours to trawl through <drifts off into musing absently> - which would be a terrible thing!  And I'm still not going to link it, as Conrad is distinctly wary of it's legal status.  Art?

Despite the shot, Leela is wearing clothing.  You pervs.

     Of course, a rat this big in real life would collapse and expire under it's own body weight.  Even if it sat in a comfy chair and went nowhere, it's metabolism would require it to consume an exponentially increased amount of food, given the increase in surface area to volume ratio.  It would have to sit there and be fed trayfuls of food to avoid starving to death.
     Conrad doesn't subscribe to the "It Was A Rubbish Doctor Who Monster" either, given that it gets mere seconds of screen time, and is mostly in darkness, and nobody at the time had ever conceived of VHS and repeat viewings.  Art?

Ratty.

     Now, I will see you a Giant Rat, and raise you one Giant Mole.  For yes, Conrad has had a whip through "The Menace In Pit 19".  Art?

Artwork by the incomparable Ron Smith

     Don't be fooled, this mole is a ferocious homicidal monster.  Also, a rather quaint look at the old coal-mining industry as it used to be in the Sixties.  Public Service Broadcasting approve.
     And I found an illustration of the Giant Hedgehog story, so you can stop backing away slowly and removing sharp objects from arm's length.  Art!

     OH WOW!  Having found out what the strip was called, I've now found a forum which details the first episode of this terrifying tale of titanic <thinks> Tiddles.  Okay, okay,it's not a cat; you try coming up with a word beginning with "T" that defines a hedgehog.
     Well, I was going to continue on about "The Steel Claw", since I found a compilation with his Origin story.  "Was" - we're already 500 words in and I think we've had enough comic nostalgia for a while.

A teaser

     
Them Canny Ruffians
Conrad does occasionally take a gentle swipe at our Slavic brethren, usually to provoke Dimya and make him cry - he is a giant wuss on the sly, you know, which state secret would get me sent to the gula - prison for years and years.

"Dimya had grown to hate Conrad.  HATE him!"

     Anyway, if you recall Your Humble Scribe was rattling on about "Life On Mars" last week, which he might go back and watch.  Or not.  I'm fickle like that.
     Well, the Ruffians took that idea and ran with it, coming up with a series called "Dark Side Of The Moon"*, where a Moscow City Police officer is hit by a car in 2011, and wakes up in the body of his father, also a policeman.
     Except it's 1979, during the full flow of Communism.  Art?

O I say!

     That would be an eye-opener for an individual who grew up after 1991 and the Sinister Union going toes-up.  It was apparently a whacking big hit and spawned a second series, with all the questions seen in LOM - is he completely off his chump?  or in a coma? or has he really travelled over 30 years into the past?

This is what the Sinister Union got O so very right - big, imposing peaked hats.

     The idea sounds very intriguing to Your Humble Scribe, whom as we already know is interested in Slavic culture (and cooking), so I shall be keeping an eye out for it on Netflix.
     O go on, Dimya, here's a hanky.

Air Crash Conspiracies Part Three
We've already had Fritz Todt and General Sikorski - now let's look at Dag Hammarskjold.  Dag was Secretary-General of the UN, twice, and was posthumously awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.  His aircraft crashed in Northern Rhodesia in 1961, killing all onboard, as he was travelling to try and sort out the horribly messy and bloody war going on in the Congo at that time.  Art?

Dag, pre-crash.  Obviously.

     Because this event happened in a remote part of what is now Zambia with no eyewitnesses, the conspiranoid loonwaffles all came out of the woodwork and have been braying loudly about it being a conspiracy ever since.  Those variously being blamed at one time another were: the CIA; MI6; the KGB; Belgian mercenary pilots; mining companies; South Africa, and there must be some Grand Unified Conspiracy nutter out there who blames all the above lumped into one.  Art?

"Evidence suggests -" begins the article

     " - that it was shot down," which is an innuendo-laden way of making an assertion without having to provide proof.  Bullet-holes or cannon-shell holes?  Explosive spall?  Expended ammunition?  None found.
     Really, these swivel-eyed loons!  What will they think of next**?

Finally - 
I only hope my porridge hasn't solidified into a solid lump as I type these lines.  That's the problem with microwaving it; the cooking process continues after you remove it from the Mystery Oven.  Well, Your Humble Scribe also has a pot of tea present, so if need be I can thin the porridge out with some of that.  Improvisation!

Just because it looks cool, in case you were wondering

*  There's enough material on rock music and the Soviet Union to do several blogs on nothing but.  Though I won't torment you that much.
**  "Think" used with poetic licence.