Oscar rockets down the Rue de Meyrin, towards Lake Geneva.
Hooowee! He isn't called Oscar (Parrot-Boy) for nothing.
This is like flying, thinks Terence, on the rack at the back.
Then:
No it isn't, thinks Terence.
He taps Oscar on the bum.
Don't do that! yells Oscar.
Stop! cries Terence.
Why? shouts Oscar.
I'm crumpling, says Terence.
What? says Oscar, grinding to a halt.
Go a bit slower, says Terence. Look at me, I'm crumpling.
It is true. Terence doesn't look tidy.
You're just scared, says Oscar. Don't worry.
No, says Terence. CRUMPLING! And I don't know why.
Let me see, says Oscar. He twists round to have a good look at Terence the Bad.
Terence the Bad throws his arms wide in a helpless gesture. His polka dot sleeves crack gently.
It's the wind, says Oscar. It's dried you in ripples.
Wah! says Terence the Bad.
Water, says Oscar (genius scientist). He looks about. Aha! Giant fountain!
If you have ever been to Lake Geneva you will know I'm not making this up.
The giant fountain is a huge, majestic, powerful and spectacular water spout, called the Jet d' Eau, located in the centre of the lake. It was built in 1886 to control and release excess pressure ( from somewhere). It represents a well organised country. You can walk right out to it, if you don't mind getting wet.
Perfect.
Oscar rides down to the edge of Lake Geneva, with ripple-wind-crumpled Terence the Bad, his little blood brother.
He rides onto the walk way.
Probably no bikes are allowed.
Terence is looking up at the majestic water spout. Water floats down in misticules.
Waggle, says Oscar.
Terence waggles. His sleeves become mobile and damp. This is promising.
Off ! says a man's voice. No bicycles!
Oscar is taken by surprise. He wobbles. And he, Terence and the bicycle tumble into Lake Geneva.
Sorry, says the man, to no one in particular. Didn't mean to cause an accident.
O no! cry some ladies. The children have fallen into the lake! Rescue them someone!
Luckily a yellow boat load of tourists has been backing gingerly away from the wet misticules, and is now quite near the scene of the accident.
They drift even nearer, and look over the edge of their boat.
Oscar has emerged on the surface of Lake Geneva and is swimming strongly. He is rescued.
Sadly his bicycle has sunk.
As has Terence the Bad, right down to the bottom..........
( but don't worry )
Monday, August 31, 2015
Sunday, August 30, 2015
The Physics Of Poetry
Vello, David, Em, Oscar and Terence exit the ice cream parlour while Forster M. Reed is in the rest room, cleaning his knees.
Only in Geneva, says Vello. What now?
We could complete the Big Bang, says Em. We'd only reached Acceleration.
Yesss! says Oscar. Five more to go! Then BOOM!
No, Oscar, says Em. The final stage is Precision. It's about research instruments.
Ends with a whimper, says David.
What does? says Vello, who is only half paying attention.
The world, says David. Ends not with a bang, with a whimper.
T.S. Eliot! says Em.
Precisely, says David. A literary reference. I see you know your poetry.
I love poetry, says Em. But only certain poetry.
Me too, says David. I like it best if it's funny.
There are holes in the sky
where the rain gets in
but they're ever so small
that's why the rain is thin.
Spike Milligan! says Em. One of my favourites.
Humph! says Vello. Birthday card poetry.
O no! says Em. It's exquisite. Oscar likes poetry, don't you, Oscar.
No, says Oscar.
Yes you do, says Em. Remember this one:
How sweet to be a cloud
floating in the blue
every little cloud
always sings aloud.
Pooh! says David.
Yes! says Em, glowing with poetical ardour. Pooh and Piglet. The Cloud Song.
But Oscar is embarrassed.
It's AGES since he liked THAT sort of poem.
He hopes Terence wasn't listening.
Poo? says Terence. I didn't hear any.
Not that sort of poo, says Oscar. Anyway. It's stupid. Hey. Want a ride on my bike?
Yes, says Terence. But I'm sticky.
Doesn't matter, says Oscar. Come on!
He runs ahead to his bicycle, which is padlocked to a rail near the others. Unlocks it, with his new combination: 66060.
He gets on. Terence clambers on to the pack rack above the back wheel.
Oscar (Parrot-Boy) and Terence (the Baddy), free wheeling around a green square in Geneva.
Twenty percent of Geneva is green.
Vello, feeling excluded from the infantile poetry love-fest, looks up from idly kicking a stone.....
( a stone? on the streets of Geneva? it happens).
....sees the back end of Terence disappearing. Is it Terence?
Polka dot jersey. Death's head lap lap. Pith helmet. It can only be him.
Only in Geneva, says Vello. What now?
We could complete the Big Bang, says Em. We'd only reached Acceleration.
Yesss! says Oscar. Five more to go! Then BOOM!
No, Oscar, says Em. The final stage is Precision. It's about research instruments.
Ends with a whimper, says David.
What does? says Vello, who is only half paying attention.
The world, says David. Ends not with a bang, with a whimper.
T.S. Eliot! says Em.
Precisely, says David. A literary reference. I see you know your poetry.
I love poetry, says Em. But only certain poetry.
Me too, says David. I like it best if it's funny.
There are holes in the sky
where the rain gets in
but they're ever so small
that's why the rain is thin.
Spike Milligan! says Em. One of my favourites.
Humph! says Vello. Birthday card poetry.
O no! says Em. It's exquisite. Oscar likes poetry, don't you, Oscar.
No, says Oscar.
Yes you do, says Em. Remember this one:
How sweet to be a cloud
floating in the blue
every little cloud
always sings aloud.
Pooh! says David.
Yes! says Em, glowing with poetical ardour. Pooh and Piglet. The Cloud Song.
But Oscar is embarrassed.
It's AGES since he liked THAT sort of poem.
He hopes Terence wasn't listening.
Poo? says Terence. I didn't hear any.
Not that sort of poo, says Oscar. Anyway. It's stupid. Hey. Want a ride on my bike?
Yes, says Terence. But I'm sticky.
Doesn't matter, says Oscar. Come on!
He runs ahead to his bicycle, which is padlocked to a rail near the others. Unlocks it, with his new combination: 66060.
He gets on. Terence clambers on to the pack rack above the back wheel.
Oscar (Parrot-Boy) and Terence (the Baddy), free wheeling around a green square in Geneva.
Twenty percent of Geneva is green.
Vello, feeling excluded from the infantile poetry love-fest, looks up from idly kicking a stone.....
( a stone? on the streets of Geneva? it happens).
....sees the back end of Terence disappearing. Is it Terence?
Polka dot jersey. Death's head lap lap. Pith helmet. It can only be him.
Saturday, August 29, 2015
In Defence Of Pure Evil
Forster M. Reed has finished his ice cream, except for what's dripped down on Terence.
Terence's ice cream drips slowly over his knees.
Forster M. Reed looks down at Terence, who is looking quite sticky.
Oh my, says Forster M. Reed. Where are my manners? I apologise ma'am, for dripping ice cream on your baby. Allow me to wipe him.
NO! says Em. Don't wipe him! And he's not my baby.
Forster M. Reed peers more closely at Terence.
He looks familiar. Lordy doo! Infant Jesus! The apocalypse! It's begun early!
He drops to his knees, forgetting about the ice cream.
Now he is on a level with Terence.
So what happens next? asks Terence.
That's your call, says Forster M. Reed. Isn't it?
You said the underworld would come open, says Terence.
I guess it has, says Forster M. Reed.
But it's not September, says Oscar (Parrot-Boy).
True, says Forster M. Reed. Perhaps this is merely a warning.
What OF? asks Terence.
The imminence, says Forster M. Reed. Some dark energy has been released. Contain it, or it goes wild. Something emerges from hell and is let loose on mankind! But YOU! Why have you returned as a baby?
He's my blood brother, says Oscar. I'm nearly nine. I would help you, except for one thing.
Forster M. Reed sits back on his haunches.
Em doesn't like it at all. He looks kind of predatory in that position.
But still, she waits to hear what her smart son will say.
You're an IDIOT! says Oscar.
Names won't hurt me! says Forster M. Reed. I know what I know.
I don't get it, says Terence. Am I the goody or the baddy?
Oh LORD! cries Forster M. Reed. You are the good! Ever and always!
So he can't be an idiot, says Terence.
Think about it, says Oscar.
Terence remembers all the bad things he has done.
Well, at least one or two of them.
He wavers.
Forster M. Reed gets his second wind.
Stephen Hawking! he cries. Even Stephen Hawking warns us not to meddle with the God Particle!
Oscar likes Stephen Hawking. He was in a movie. In the movie, he looked like himself in real life.
He was best in the whole wide world at physics. And he talked like a robot. Which was cool.
He wouldn't, says Oscar.
He did! He said the God Particle could destroy the universe leaving time and space collapsed! says Forster M. Reed.
And you believe that nonsense, says Vello.
Ha! Don't mess with Vello when he sticks his oar in.
Forster M. Reed is vanquished ( temporarily). He retreats to the rest rooms with his packet of wipes, to clean up his knees.
Terence's ice cream drips slowly over his knees.
Forster M. Reed looks down at Terence, who is looking quite sticky.
Oh my, says Forster M. Reed. Where are my manners? I apologise ma'am, for dripping ice cream on your baby. Allow me to wipe him.
NO! says Em. Don't wipe him! And he's not my baby.
Forster M. Reed peers more closely at Terence.
He looks familiar. Lordy doo! Infant Jesus! The apocalypse! It's begun early!
He drops to his knees, forgetting about the ice cream.
Now he is on a level with Terence.
So what happens next? asks Terence.
That's your call, says Forster M. Reed. Isn't it?
You said the underworld would come open, says Terence.
I guess it has, says Forster M. Reed.
But it's not September, says Oscar (Parrot-Boy).
True, says Forster M. Reed. Perhaps this is merely a warning.
What OF? asks Terence.
The imminence, says Forster M. Reed. Some dark energy has been released. Contain it, or it goes wild. Something emerges from hell and is let loose on mankind! But YOU! Why have you returned as a baby?
He's my blood brother, says Oscar. I'm nearly nine. I would help you, except for one thing.
Forster M. Reed sits back on his haunches.
Em doesn't like it at all. He looks kind of predatory in that position.
But still, she waits to hear what her smart son will say.
You're an IDIOT! says Oscar.
Names won't hurt me! says Forster M. Reed. I know what I know.
I don't get it, says Terence. Am I the goody or the baddy?
Oh LORD! cries Forster M. Reed. You are the good! Ever and always!
So he can't be an idiot, says Terence.
Think about it, says Oscar.
Terence remembers all the bad things he has done.
Well, at least one or two of them.
He wavers.
Forster M. Reed gets his second wind.
Stephen Hawking! he cries. Even Stephen Hawking warns us not to meddle with the God Particle!
Oscar likes Stephen Hawking. He was in a movie. In the movie, he looked like himself in real life.
He was best in the whole wide world at physics. And he talked like a robot. Which was cool.
He wouldn't, says Oscar.
He did! He said the God Particle could destroy the universe leaving time and space collapsed! says Forster M. Reed.
And you believe that nonsense, says Vello.
Ha! Don't mess with Vello when he sticks his oar in.
Forster M. Reed is vanquished ( temporarily). He retreats to the rest rooms with his packet of wipes, to clean up his knees.
Friday, August 28, 2015
Beware The Opening Portal
The salted caramel/ boysenberry combination ice cream is ready.
Pure Evil man turns back to the counter.
That will be six euro, sir, says the girl behind the counter.
Lordy doo! says Pure Evil man. That's expensive!
It certainly is, says David, overhearing. Are you sure you want to go ahead with this, Em?
Em nods, and starts ordering a complicated ice cream combination.
Pure Evil licks his ice cream with his long red tongue and grins down at Terence and Oscar.
Well worth six euros, says Pure Evil.
Is it? says Vello.
I said so, didn't I, says Pure Evil.
Vello takes an instant dislike to Pure Evil.
I didn't understand your earlier comment, says Vello.
Oho, says Pure Evil. Don't get me started. Just Beware September at CERN, that's what I say.
Nutella, Dutch Chocolate? asks Em.
I'll have what he's having, says Vello.
It's very good ice cream, says Pure Evil. Pity the world is soon ending. Thanks to THEIR MISGUIDED SCIENCE.
Do go on, says Vello.
All right, says Pure Evil, wiping a drool of salted caramel from his chin. Many are saying that CERN will open a portal to the Underworld in September. What do you say to that?
Nothing yet, says Vello. Who are these many?
David has got his ice cream now ( lemon and mango). He licks it, and instantly regrets his choice of two sorbets.
There are many who say Cern was responsible for the Nepal earthquake, says Pure Evil.
Disappointing, says David.
To say the Least, says Pure Evil.
He was talking about his ice cream, says Vello.
Pure Evil ignores him. He is on a roll now.
There are SIGNS! says Pure Evil. For those with eyes to see and ears to hear.
What are they? asks Vello, as Em hands him his salted caramel/boysenberry combination.
Salted caramel and boysenberry. What you asked for, says Em.
The signs, says Vello. I'm talking to Pure Evil man here.
Pure Evil looks put out for a moment. Then the penny drops.
Allow me to introduce myself. Forster M. Reed, says Pure Evil.
Vello, says Vello. And this is David Hume, this is Terence our ...um...cherub, this is Em, our acquaintance, and that boy over there is her son, Oscar, science genius.
Em looks pleased with the description.
Forster M. Reed now has a large audience. His voice fills the ice cream parlour.
CERN! Their logo is 666! Their symbol is Shiva! CERNunnos is the horned demon god of the underworld. At St-Genis-Pouilly there is a temple dedicated to Apollo, reputed to be built over the gate to the underworld! St-Genis-Pouilly is situated above the route of Large Hadron Collider. There is more I can tell you. Much more my friends, about anti matter, dark energy and the spirit world........
It's hypnotic! Terence is captivated. He likes Forster M. Reed and his spittle. He sits down at his feet and stares upwards, neglecting his ice cream.
But to his credit, Oscar (Parrot-Boy), blood brother, science genius, nearly nine, will have none of it.
Pure Evil man turns back to the counter.
That will be six euro, sir, says the girl behind the counter.
Lordy doo! says Pure Evil man. That's expensive!
It certainly is, says David, overhearing. Are you sure you want to go ahead with this, Em?
Em nods, and starts ordering a complicated ice cream combination.
Pure Evil licks his ice cream with his long red tongue and grins down at Terence and Oscar.
Well worth six euros, says Pure Evil.
Is it? says Vello.
I said so, didn't I, says Pure Evil.
Vello takes an instant dislike to Pure Evil.
I didn't understand your earlier comment, says Vello.
Oho, says Pure Evil. Don't get me started. Just Beware September at CERN, that's what I say.
Nutella, Dutch Chocolate? asks Em.
I'll have what he's having, says Vello.
It's very good ice cream, says Pure Evil. Pity the world is soon ending. Thanks to THEIR MISGUIDED SCIENCE.
Do go on, says Vello.
All right, says Pure Evil, wiping a drool of salted caramel from his chin. Many are saying that CERN will open a portal to the Underworld in September. What do you say to that?
Nothing yet, says Vello. Who are these many?
David has got his ice cream now ( lemon and mango). He licks it, and instantly regrets his choice of two sorbets.
There are many who say Cern was responsible for the Nepal earthquake, says Pure Evil.
Disappointing, says David.
To say the Least, says Pure Evil.
He was talking about his ice cream, says Vello.
Pure Evil ignores him. He is on a roll now.
There are SIGNS! says Pure Evil. For those with eyes to see and ears to hear.
What are they? asks Vello, as Em hands him his salted caramel/boysenberry combination.
Salted caramel and boysenberry. What you asked for, says Em.
The signs, says Vello. I'm talking to Pure Evil man here.
Pure Evil looks put out for a moment. Then the penny drops.
Allow me to introduce myself. Forster M. Reed, says Pure Evil.
Vello, says Vello. And this is David Hume, this is Terence our ...um...cherub, this is Em, our acquaintance, and that boy over there is her son, Oscar, science genius.
Em looks pleased with the description.
Forster M. Reed now has a large audience. His voice fills the ice cream parlour.
CERN! Their logo is 666! Their symbol is Shiva! CERNunnos is the horned demon god of the underworld. At St-Genis-Pouilly there is a temple dedicated to Apollo, reputed to be built over the gate to the underworld! St-Genis-Pouilly is situated above the route of Large Hadron Collider. There is more I can tell you. Much more my friends, about anti matter, dark energy and the spirit world........
It's hypnotic! Terence is captivated. He likes Forster M. Reed and his spittle. He sits down at his feet and stares upwards, neglecting his ice cream.
But to his credit, Oscar (Parrot-Boy), blood brother, science genius, nearly nine, will have none of it.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Trick Or Genius Answer
Accelerate as much as you like, the questions remain.
No one's answered the Child Question, says Vello. Is that because no one's sure of the answer?
No one's answered the Family Question, either, says David.
They are sitting inside Restaurant Le Smash, at a table overlooking a swimming pool.
True, says Em. No one answered. Now I've forgotten the question. Hmm, shrimp curry or avocado salad?
I think I'll have perche 'n frites, says David.
How fast do the particles under your feet go in the Large Hadron Collider, parrots Oscar.
A. as fast as a moped
B. as fast as the speed of light (almost) or
C. as fast as a rocket.
Well remembered, Oscar, says Em. Did you remember that, Terence?
Course I did, says Terence. And I know the answer.
I'm sure Oscar knows the answer too, says Em. Don't you Oscar?
Yes, says Oscar. BUT.
But what? asks his mother.
Terence thinks the answer is C, says Oscar. And he's my blood brother.
It's one thing to be loyal to a friend, says Em, and another to stick to what you believe in.
C ! says Terence, defiantly. ( or possibly, See!)
Only as fast as a rocket? says Vello. If that's all, why go to the trouble of building a giant collider?
Terence looks at Oscar (Parrot-Boy), his blood brother.
He means speed-of-light C, says Oscar. E = MC squared. Don't you, Terence? It was a trick question.
No, says Terence. That was a trick answer. And you're a big show-off.
But Em doesn't think so. She thinks Oscar is a genius.
Ice creams all round, after lunch, says Em, in honour of Oscar.
They finish their salads, fish and chips and shrimp curry and head off to an ice cream shop.
They stand in the queue.
We still haven't answered the Family Question, says David, a tad too loudly.
A few people turn round.
Why do it? says Vello. Why accelerate particles at great expense, only to have them crash into one another?
Pure EVIL! says the person immediately in front of Vello, who is:
A. about to choose a salted caramel/boysenberry combination
B. distracted by the Family Question
C. a person who believes the work done at CERN is the work of the Devil
Clue: The answer is the answer most likely to be chosen by Terence.
No one's answered the Child Question, says Vello. Is that because no one's sure of the answer?
No one's answered the Family Question, either, says David.
They are sitting inside Restaurant Le Smash, at a table overlooking a swimming pool.
True, says Em. No one answered. Now I've forgotten the question. Hmm, shrimp curry or avocado salad?
I think I'll have perche 'n frites, says David.
How fast do the particles under your feet go in the Large Hadron Collider, parrots Oscar.
A. as fast as a moped
B. as fast as the speed of light (almost) or
C. as fast as a rocket.
Well remembered, Oscar, says Em. Did you remember that, Terence?
Course I did, says Terence. And I know the answer.
I'm sure Oscar knows the answer too, says Em. Don't you Oscar?
Yes, says Oscar. BUT.
But what? asks his mother.
Terence thinks the answer is C, says Oscar. And he's my blood brother.
It's one thing to be loyal to a friend, says Em, and another to stick to what you believe in.
C ! says Terence, defiantly. ( or possibly, See!)
Only as fast as a rocket? says Vello. If that's all, why go to the trouble of building a giant collider?
Terence looks at Oscar (Parrot-Boy), his blood brother.
He means speed-of-light C, says Oscar. E = MC squared. Don't you, Terence? It was a trick question.
No, says Terence. That was a trick answer. And you're a big show-off.
But Em doesn't think so. She thinks Oscar is a genius.
Ice creams all round, after lunch, says Em, in honour of Oscar.
They finish their salads, fish and chips and shrimp curry and head off to an ice cream shop.
They stand in the queue.
We still haven't answered the Family Question, says David, a tad too loudly.
A few people turn round.
Why do it? says Vello. Why accelerate particles at great expense, only to have them crash into one another?
Pure EVIL! says the person immediately in front of Vello, who is:
A. about to choose a salted caramel/boysenberry combination
B. distracted by the Family Question
C. a person who believes the work done at CERN is the work of the Devil
Clue: The answer is the answer most likely to be chosen by Terence.
Speed Of Light Crunch Time
Oscar (Parrot-Boy) scowls at his blood brother.
The look travels the short distance between them, at the speed of light ( almost ).
Terence intercepts Oscar's look.
Bang! ( or Ping! )
What? says Terence.
You got me in trouble, says Oscar. AND you made me look dumb.
I made you look smarter, says Terence. You were going to say C was the answer. I could tell by the shape of your mouth.
( a skill Terence learned from the Virgin, who often said it.
See? she would often say. See? )
C was the answer, says Oscar.
I agree, says Vello. C was the proper answer. But Terence's answer was amusing.
No, says Terence. The proper answer is Cows, and the answer before was Croutons.
Both starting with C, says David, dabbing Oscar's bloody hand with his hankie.
Thank you, says Oscar.
Thank you, says Terence.
Em comes back with a polystyrene cup full of water, and a box of bandaids.
In no time, Oscar (Parrot-Boy) is sporting a bandaid.
(which is not cool for blood brothers)
Next we'll visit the Neutrinos says Em, then the Alice. After that, if there's time we'll try and make it to the Acceleration, before lunch.
They whizz through the Neutrinos. Phantom Particles. There appears to be nothing to see there.
Then the Alice.
The Alice Experiment studies the state of matter that existed at the start of the Universe. Here Be Quarks.
Child Question: What is the name given to the Primordial Soup?
Oops! That's the answer. A and B are just silly. (Initial stew, infernal broth)
C is the answer.
C for Soup. Terence is right again, as usual.
But Oscar was going to say that as well.
And now, says Vello, I vote we Accelerate towards Crunch time.
Everyone agrees to accelerate. They accelerate along the circuit to the Acceleration Stage.
Child Question: What speed are the particles under your feet accelerated to in the Large Hadron Collider?
A. 50k/h (like a moped)
B. 300,000 k/sec (almost the speed of light)
C. 36,000 k/h (like a rocket)
Family Question: Why do we accelerate particles at CERN ? >>>>>>>
Clue: it's
Connected to
Croutons at
Crunch time >>>>>
The look travels the short distance between them, at the speed of light ( almost ).
Terence intercepts Oscar's look.
Bang! ( or Ping! )
What? says Terence.
You got me in trouble, says Oscar. AND you made me look dumb.
I made you look smarter, says Terence. You were going to say C was the answer. I could tell by the shape of your mouth.
( a skill Terence learned from the Virgin, who often said it.
See? she would often say. See? )
C was the answer, says Oscar.
I agree, says Vello. C was the proper answer. But Terence's answer was amusing.
No, says Terence. The proper answer is Cows, and the answer before was Croutons.
Both starting with C, says David, dabbing Oscar's bloody hand with his hankie.
Thank you, says Oscar.
Thank you, says Terence.
Em comes back with a polystyrene cup full of water, and a box of bandaids.
In no time, Oscar (Parrot-Boy) is sporting a bandaid.
(which is not cool for blood brothers)
Next we'll visit the Neutrinos says Em, then the Alice. After that, if there's time we'll try and make it to the Acceleration, before lunch.
They whizz through the Neutrinos. Phantom Particles. There appears to be nothing to see there.
Then the Alice.
The Alice Experiment studies the state of matter that existed at the start of the Universe. Here Be Quarks.
Child Question: What is the name given to the Primordial Soup?
Oops! That's the answer. A and B are just silly. (Initial stew, infernal broth)
C is the answer.
C for Soup. Terence is right again, as usual.
But Oscar was going to say that as well.
And now, says Vello, I vote we Accelerate towards Crunch time.
Everyone agrees to accelerate. They accelerate along the circuit to the Acceleration Stage.
Child Question: What speed are the particles under your feet accelerated to in the Large Hadron Collider?
A. 50k/h (like a moped)
B. 300,000 k/sec (almost the speed of light)
C. 36,000 k/h (like a rocket)
Family Question: Why do we accelerate particles at CERN ? >>>>>>>
Clue: it's
Connected to
Croutons at
Crunch time >>>>>
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Cows Don't Get Bored
The Control Centre Platform is open.
You are above the Control Centre, not in it.
There is information, and virtual interactivity puzzles. One puzzle for Children and one for Family.
See how you go on the kid's puzzle, Oscar, says Em.
Oscar reads out the Kid's Puzzle question: Which of these particles circulate in the Large Hadron Collider?
A. simpletons
B. protons
C. croutons
Oscar is disgusted.
I'm not doing this, says Oscar. It's too lame.
Let me see, says Vello. Simpletons, protons and croutons. Is this what they call science these days?
No, says Em. This is the question for children. But it's too easy for Oscar. What's the Family Question?
Oscar reads out the Family Question:
Why is the LHC circular?
A: Centrifugal force makes the particles go faster.
B. So the cows in the Pays de Gex don't get bored.
C. Each time they go round the particles receive a pulse, which gives them more energy.
Everyone is looking at Oscar.
Oscar is pretty sure that the answer is C.
He is about to say so when.....
Cows don't get bored, says Terence. That could be the reason.
How so? asks David.
The rumbling, says Terence. Cows like to feel it in their stomachs. That's why it's round.
Ha ha, laugh the grown ups. What does Oscar think?
He thinks the same as me, says Terence. He's my blood brother.
What? says Em. Blood brother? Oscar, I thought I told you........ Oscar, hold out your hand!
Oscar holds out his hand which is smeared with Dark Matter.
Blood, cement and a grit ball.
That looks infected, says Em. Let me see yours, Terence.
Terence holds out his hand.
One of his fingers is missing a nail. (But that may be the fault of the sculptor).
A smear of blood on his palm. (That will be Oscar's).
David offers the use of his hankie.
Em goes off to look for a tap.
You are above the Control Centre, not in it.
There is information, and virtual interactivity puzzles. One puzzle for Children and one for Family.
See how you go on the kid's puzzle, Oscar, says Em.
Oscar reads out the Kid's Puzzle question: Which of these particles circulate in the Large Hadron Collider?
A. simpletons
B. protons
C. croutons
Oscar is disgusted.
I'm not doing this, says Oscar. It's too lame.
Let me see, says Vello. Simpletons, protons and croutons. Is this what they call science these days?
No, says Em. This is the question for children. But it's too easy for Oscar. What's the Family Question?
Oscar reads out the Family Question:
Why is the LHC circular?
A: Centrifugal force makes the particles go faster.
B. So the cows in the Pays de Gex don't get bored.
C. Each time they go round the particles receive a pulse, which gives them more energy.
Everyone is looking at Oscar.
Oscar is pretty sure that the answer is C.
He is about to say so when.....
Cows don't get bored, says Terence. That could be the reason.
How so? asks David.
The rumbling, says Terence. Cows like to feel it in their stomachs. That's why it's round.
Ha ha, laugh the grown ups. What does Oscar think?
He thinks the same as me, says Terence. He's my blood brother.
What? says Em. Blood brother? Oscar, I thought I told you........ Oscar, hold out your hand!
Oscar holds out his hand which is smeared with Dark Matter.
Blood, cement and a grit ball.
That looks infected, says Em. Let me see yours, Terence.
Terence holds out his hand.
One of his fingers is missing a nail. (But that may be the fault of the sculptor).
A smear of blood on his palm. (That will be Oscar's).
David offers the use of his hankie.
Em goes off to look for a tap.
Monday, August 24, 2015
One Way To Swallow Dark Matter
Oscar (Parrot-Boy) is now faced with a problem.
How to steal his mum's knife.
It's impossible just at the moment.
Where does she keep it? asks Terence.
In her back pack, says Oscar. With the apples.
Let's ask for apples, says Terence.
That won't work, says Oscar. She'll say wait till we get there.
She might stop, says Terence. What if we tell her we're starving?
She won't believe us, says Oscar.
But I AM starving, says Terence.
Are you? says David, turning round. What about all those oysters?
I only clacked them, says Terence. I didn't eat them. I feel like a milkshake.
You won't get a knife with a milkshake, says David.
YOU WERE LISTENING! says Terence.
You knew I was, says David. As soon as I mentioned the oysters.
You were listening about the KNIFE, says Terence.
Don't tell mum! says Oscar.
As if I would get the opportunity, says David.
This wry observation goes right over the heads of the would-be blood brothers.
......
Here we are, says Em. Atlas, the first Platform. But.... dammit, it's closed!
What a shame, says Vello. What are we missing?
The search for Dark Matter, says Em. Sorry children, you can't get your passports clipped here.
I want to see the Dark Matter, says Terence.
No one can see the Dark Matter, says David. I know that much.
Oscar knows about Dark Matter, says Em. Tell them, Oscar.
It's made of super symmetrical particles, says Oscar.
It MIGHT be, says Em. Well done, Oscar. Super symmetrical
What's the next Platform? asks Vello, and how far is it?
The Control Centre, says Em, where they do the accelerations. But before we go there, would any one like an apple?
Me, says Terence. And a knife, please.
Shut up, idiot! hisses Oscar.
I'll peel it for you, says Em. But really the skin is the best part.
She takes out five apples, and a fruit knife.
I'll do them, says David.
How kind, says Em.
David starts peeling.
Don't peel mine, says Em.
Or mine, says Vello. The skin is the best part.
Hee hee, giggles Em.
Oh really!
David hands Em and Vello their unpeeled apples. They bite into them. Super symmetrical.
David peels stolidly, until he has finished.
Three peeled apples, three long segments of peel, one fruit knife, on the grass.
Parrot-Boy picks up the knife.
Swurch! a small cutting. Blood oozes out of his hand.
Now you, Terence.
Grccch! A few flakes of cement, and a grit ball.
Mix them together and lick.
Ingest the Dark Matter.
How to steal his mum's knife.
It's impossible just at the moment.
Where does she keep it? asks Terence.
In her back pack, says Oscar. With the apples.
Let's ask for apples, says Terence.
That won't work, says Oscar. She'll say wait till we get there.
She might stop, says Terence. What if we tell her we're starving?
She won't believe us, says Oscar.
But I AM starving, says Terence.
Are you? says David, turning round. What about all those oysters?
I only clacked them, says Terence. I didn't eat them. I feel like a milkshake.
You won't get a knife with a milkshake, says David.
YOU WERE LISTENING! says Terence.
You knew I was, says David. As soon as I mentioned the oysters.
You were listening about the KNIFE, says Terence.
Don't tell mum! says Oscar.
As if I would get the opportunity, says David.
This wry observation goes right over the heads of the would-be blood brothers.
......
Here we are, says Em. Atlas, the first Platform. But.... dammit, it's closed!
What a shame, says Vello. What are we missing?
The search for Dark Matter, says Em. Sorry children, you can't get your passports clipped here.
I want to see the Dark Matter, says Terence.
No one can see the Dark Matter, says David. I know that much.
Oscar knows about Dark Matter, says Em. Tell them, Oscar.
It's made of super symmetrical particles, says Oscar.
It MIGHT be, says Em. Well done, Oscar. Super symmetrical
What's the next Platform? asks Vello, and how far is it?
The Control Centre, says Em, where they do the accelerations. But before we go there, would any one like an apple?
Me, says Terence. And a knife, please.
Shut up, idiot! hisses Oscar.
I'll peel it for you, says Em. But really the skin is the best part.
She takes out five apples, and a fruit knife.
I'll do them, says David.
How kind, says Em.
David starts peeling.
Don't peel mine, says Em.
Or mine, says Vello. The skin is the best part.
Hee hee, giggles Em.
Oh really!
David hands Em and Vello their unpeeled apples. They bite into them. Super symmetrical.
David peels stolidly, until he has finished.
Three peeled apples, three long segments of peel, one fruit knife, on the grass.
Parrot-Boy picks up the knife.
Swurch! a small cutting. Blood oozes out of his hand.
Now you, Terence.
Grccch! A few flakes of cement, and a grit ball.
Mix them together and lick.
Ingest the Dark Matter.
The Spotter Spots
So it is decided.
This afternoon, they will ride to Geneva, with Oscar and Em.
It will be educational for Terence.
It will be good exercise.
And Em does not seem to be saddled with a husband
(It's only Vello who finds this last fact appealing).
Here they are now on their bicycles, heading for Pays de Gex.
Oscar (Parrot-Boy) has his own bike, which he rides half a wheel behind David.
This is in order to mock and taunt Terence.
This is a NEW bike, says Oscar.
Mine is an OLD bike, says Terence.
You don't even have one, says Oscar.
I do, says Terence, but right now I'm not riding it because I have to do science.
Bullshit, says Oscar. What science?
GPS, says Terence.
Oscar is silenced, temporarily.
I'm nearly nine, says Oscar.
Me too, says Terence. Two thousand and nine. Nearly. That's why I can do GPS. I used to live in a palace. That's what the P is for. PALACE. And the G is for GOOD.
Oscar doesn't want to believe it.
What's the S for?
Spotter, says Terence.
You have to hand it to Terence.
He learned to think fast from Saint Joseph. Not that Saint Joseph thought fast. But you had to think fast to avoid being whacked with a carpentry tool every so often, for something quite minor.
And the Virgin was useless.
........
Vello is riding in front alongside Em, the delightful young scientist mother.
David catches the odd word, on the breeze.
...what science do you....
.....crystallography......
....fascinating......
......hard and transparent...
.....very beautiful.....
....oh REALLY!.....
........
David turns to ask Terence a question.
Terence hopes it's about GPS.
What? says Terence, looking sideways at Oscar.
Just checking to see if you're wearing your hat, says David benignly.
Watch where you're going! cries Terence.
David wobbles, and regains his balance.
Thank me for that, says Terence.
That wasn't GPS, says Oscar scornfully.
No, says Terence. That was mischief.
I do mischief, says Oscar. I stayed out all night outside the Post Office, remember?
I know, says Terence. You were up on the lintel. I watched over you.
I watched over you, says Oscar. I was the highest.
I watched under you. You were a Parrot, says Terence.
I'm still a Parrot, says Oscar.
I need a Parrot, says Terence.
Let's be blood brothers, says Oscar.
Okay, says Terence. What'll happen?
I'll steal mum's knife, says Oscar.
This afternoon, they will ride to Geneva, with Oscar and Em.
It will be educational for Terence.
It will be good exercise.
And Em does not seem to be saddled with a husband
(It's only Vello who finds this last fact appealing).
Here they are now on their bicycles, heading for Pays de Gex.
Oscar (Parrot-Boy) has his own bike, which he rides half a wheel behind David.
This is in order to mock and taunt Terence.
This is a NEW bike, says Oscar.
Mine is an OLD bike, says Terence.
You don't even have one, says Oscar.
I do, says Terence, but right now I'm not riding it because I have to do science.
Bullshit, says Oscar. What science?
GPS, says Terence.
Oscar is silenced, temporarily.
I'm nearly nine, says Oscar.
Me too, says Terence. Two thousand and nine. Nearly. That's why I can do GPS. I used to live in a palace. That's what the P is for. PALACE. And the G is for GOOD.
Oscar doesn't want to believe it.
What's the S for?
Spotter, says Terence.
You have to hand it to Terence.
He learned to think fast from Saint Joseph. Not that Saint Joseph thought fast. But you had to think fast to avoid being whacked with a carpentry tool every so often, for something quite minor.
And the Virgin was useless.
........
Vello is riding in front alongside Em, the delightful young scientist mother.
David catches the odd word, on the breeze.
...what science do you....
.....crystallography......
....fascinating......
......hard and transparent...
.....very beautiful.....
....oh REALLY!.....
........
David turns to ask Terence a question.
Terence hopes it's about GPS.
What? says Terence, looking sideways at Oscar.
Just checking to see if you're wearing your hat, says David benignly.
Watch where you're going! cries Terence.
David wobbles, and regains his balance.
Thank me for that, says Terence.
That wasn't GPS, says Oscar scornfully.
No, says Terence. That was mischief.
I do mischief, says Oscar. I stayed out all night outside the Post Office, remember?
I know, says Terence. You were up on the lintel. I watched over you.
I watched over you, says Oscar. I was the highest.
I watched under you. You were a Parrot, says Terence.
I'm still a Parrot, says Oscar.
I need a Parrot, says Terence.
Let's be blood brothers, says Oscar.
Okay, says Terence. What'll happen?
I'll steal mum's knife, says Oscar.
Saturday, August 22, 2015
Big Bangs And Clackers
It's time to learn the name of the lady.
My name is Em, she says, spilling golden drops of champagne.
Short for Emilie? asks Vello.
No, just short, says Em, shucking her tenth oyster.
Fine oysters, says David. And excellent wine.
Fine oysters, says Terence, making a face at the oysters.
(The last two oysters).
He clacks them together.
Terence! says Vello. Don't play with the oysters!
Lively child, says Em. Reminds me of Oscar.
Your child? asks David.
Yes, says Em. He's around here somewhere. Oscar ! Oscar!
They all look for Oscar, who doesn't turn up at this stage.
How long are you staying in Ferney? asks Vello.
Not long at all, says Em. We're on our way to Geneva.
Whatever for? asks Vello. Are you a Calvinist?
Ha ha, laughs Em. No, I'm a scientist.
So am I, says Terence. I stayed up ALL night.
That does not make you a scientist, says Em. It all depends what you were doing.
I was doing science, says Terence.
So you're interested in science, says Em. So is Oscar. You ought to meet him. Oscar! Where are you?
So, why is a scientist going to Geneva? says Vello.
CERN, says Em. The Large Hadron Collider. Surely you've heard of it?
Of course I've heard of it, says Vello crossly.
Forgive him, says David. He's normally quite sharp. Do you work there?
No, just visiting, says Em. I'm taking Oscar round the 10 Platforms. We have our Passport Big Bangs.
Can we go? asks Terence.
If your daddies will take you, says Em. Do you have bicycles? You do the circuit on bicycles.
I thought it was underground, says Vello.
It's virtual-interactive, says Em. With educational questions. You ride on the surface, above the real thing which is 100 metres underground.
Terence is put off by the idea of Educational Questions.
Think about it, says Em. It's 3 kilometres from here to Geneva. Ah! I think I see Oscar. Oscar! Oscar!
A boy approaches.
It's Parrot-Boy. Oscar is Parrot-Boy!
Oscar Parrot-Boy picks up the last two oysters and clacks them together.
And no one even says anything.
My name is Em, she says, spilling golden drops of champagne.
Short for Emilie? asks Vello.
No, just short, says Em, shucking her tenth oyster.
Fine oysters, says David. And excellent wine.
Fine oysters, says Terence, making a face at the oysters.
(The last two oysters).
He clacks them together.
Terence! says Vello. Don't play with the oysters!
Lively child, says Em. Reminds me of Oscar.
Your child? asks David.
Yes, says Em. He's around here somewhere. Oscar ! Oscar!
They all look for Oscar, who doesn't turn up at this stage.
How long are you staying in Ferney? asks Vello.
Not long at all, says Em. We're on our way to Geneva.
Whatever for? asks Vello. Are you a Calvinist?
Ha ha, laughs Em. No, I'm a scientist.
So am I, says Terence. I stayed up ALL night.
That does not make you a scientist, says Em. It all depends what you were doing.
I was doing science, says Terence.
So you're interested in science, says Em. So is Oscar. You ought to meet him. Oscar! Where are you?
So, why is a scientist going to Geneva? says Vello.
CERN, says Em. The Large Hadron Collider. Surely you've heard of it?
Of course I've heard of it, says Vello crossly.
Forgive him, says David. He's normally quite sharp. Do you work there?
No, just visiting, says Em. I'm taking Oscar round the 10 Platforms. We have our Passport Big Bangs.
Can we go? asks Terence.
If your daddies will take you, says Em. Do you have bicycles? You do the circuit on bicycles.
I thought it was underground, says Vello.
It's virtual-interactive, says Em. With educational questions. You ride on the surface, above the real thing which is 100 metres underground.
Terence is put off by the idea of Educational Questions.
Think about it, says Em. It's 3 kilometres from here to Geneva. Ah! I think I see Oscar. Oscar! Oscar!
A boy approaches.
It's Parrot-Boy. Oscar is Parrot-Boy!
Oscar Parrot-Boy picks up the last two oysters and clacks them together.
And no one even says anything.
Friday, August 21, 2015
Use The Strap
Next morning is Saturday morning.
The day of the popular Ferney-Voltaire market.
The streets are already crowded. Vello and David make their way to La Poste.
There is a queue outside, because La Poste is not yet open.
They stand at the back of the queue.
Is that Terence? says David, spying Terence at the head of the queue, on the steps.
It is! says Vello What luck! Let us go forward.
They stroll to the head of the queue, to make contact with Terence.
Alors! say several queue members.
Pardon. Pardon, says David. C'est notre enfant qui est devant.
Bien sûr, say the queue members, moving out of the way politely, because David spoke French.
Terence! says Vello. Very good of you to keep our place on the steps of La Poste.
It's shut, says Terence. It was shut ALL NIGHT. I had to keep watch.
Parrot-Boy is hovering above the lintel, annoyed. It was HE who kept watch.
The door of La Poste opens, the crowd pushes forward. Allons!
Vello is nimble. He is first to reach the counter.
Votre ami has pushed in, en actualité, says a lady to David.
Pas du tout, says David. This enfant was le premier ici.
Peut être we should speak English, says the lady. I am not French, nor are you, that is evident.
Are you visiting? asks David. So are we. My friend Vello here used to be someone important in Ferney.
Really? says the lady. Who might that have been?
Never mind, says David. He is less important these days. He must queue at the Post Office like everyone else.
A great leveller, says the lady. A Post Office queue. Although he did jump it. Are you intending to visit the market? I hear it's the best in the region.
Most probably, says David. Ah! My friend has his box. You are next, madam.
Vello, David and Terence exit La Poste, with the box from Paris, containing their pith helmets.
Outside, Vello opens the box. Yes! Three Vietnamese style pith helmets, in stylish khaki.
Wearing the pith helmets, which fit perfectly, ( who would expect otherwise?), they walk up and down Avenue Voltaire, looking at cheeses, overpriced baguettes, smoked and cured meats from Auvergne and Pays Basque, fresh seafood from Brittany, Normandy and the coast of the Mediterranean. Olives, truffles, jewellery and trinkets.
At the oyster and champagne stall they bump into the lady.
What sensible hats, says the lady.
Thank you, says Vello, bowing.
You'll be the man of importance, says the lady. Pleased to meet you. I've already met your friend and the infant.
Terence tries bowing. His piss hat falls off.
Use the strap, says the lady.
What a nice lady. Soon they are eating oysters together, and drinking champagne.
The day of the popular Ferney-Voltaire market.
The streets are already crowded. Vello and David make their way to La Poste.
There is a queue outside, because La Poste is not yet open.
They stand at the back of the queue.
Is that Terence? says David, spying Terence at the head of the queue, on the steps.
It is! says Vello What luck! Let us go forward.
They stroll to the head of the queue, to make contact with Terence.
Alors! say several queue members.
Pardon. Pardon, says David. C'est notre enfant qui est devant.
Bien sûr, say the queue members, moving out of the way politely, because David spoke French.
Terence! says Vello. Very good of you to keep our place on the steps of La Poste.
It's shut, says Terence. It was shut ALL NIGHT. I had to keep watch.
Parrot-Boy is hovering above the lintel, annoyed. It was HE who kept watch.
The door of La Poste opens, the crowd pushes forward. Allons!
Vello is nimble. He is first to reach the counter.
Votre ami has pushed in, en actualité, says a lady to David.
Pas du tout, says David. This enfant was le premier ici.
Peut être we should speak English, says the lady. I am not French, nor are you, that is evident.
Are you visiting? asks David. So are we. My friend Vello here used to be someone important in Ferney.
Really? says the lady. Who might that have been?
Never mind, says David. He is less important these days. He must queue at the Post Office like everyone else.
A great leveller, says the lady. A Post Office queue. Although he did jump it. Are you intending to visit the market? I hear it's the best in the region.
Most probably, says David. Ah! My friend has his box. You are next, madam.
Vello, David and Terence exit La Poste, with the box from Paris, containing their pith helmets.
Outside, Vello opens the box. Yes! Three Vietnamese style pith helmets, in stylish khaki.
Wearing the pith helmets, which fit perfectly, ( who would expect otherwise?), they walk up and down Avenue Voltaire, looking at cheeses, overpriced baguettes, smoked and cured meats from Auvergne and Pays Basque, fresh seafood from Brittany, Normandy and the coast of the Mediterranean. Olives, truffles, jewellery and trinkets.
At the oyster and champagne stall they bump into the lady.
What sensible hats, says the lady.
Thank you, says Vello, bowing.
You'll be the man of importance, says the lady. Pleased to meet you. I've already met your friend and the infant.
Terence tries bowing. His piss hat falls off.
Use the strap, says the lady.
What a nice lady. Soon they are eating oysters together, and drinking champagne.
Birds, Science, Magic
Vello is upstairs, looking out through the window. His window.
The Alps! The beautiful Jura Mountains.
Birds are visible dots in the distance.
Perhaps they are bee eaters, terns, little ringed plovers. Perhaps a stone curlew, a black woodpecker, a raven, a short-toed eagle.
He thinks of the things he has done in this room, besides birdwatching.
The words, written and spoken.
David appears at the door with a dusty bottle.
I've just been down in your cellar, says David.
Good man! says Vello. I'll find us some glasses.
It's not a bad drop. Champagne, hundreds of years old, a little flat, very sticky and yellow.
Vello leans back in a comfy old chair. David leans back in another.
I wrote my best things in here, says Vello.
Ah, says David. Candide.
Of course Candide, says Vello. But also Irene.
Irene?
Oh yes Irene, says David. That was.....?
Very popular, says Vello.
But how did it go? asks David. Oh wait...... it's coming back to me. Goodnight Irene. Lovely song.
Indeed, says Vello, but no thanks to me. My Irene is a play. Unable to marry the man who assassinates her husband, she kills herself.
And is the song in it? asks David.
Of course not, says Vello. It's a tragedy, in the classic tradition. Pour me another.
He holds out his glass. David pours him another.
They both look out of the window as various alpine dots fly by.
........
Terence waits outside the Post Office.
The Post Office is shut.
Someone lands beside him. A Parrot-Boy.
Are you waiting for something? asks the Parrot-Boy.
Yes, says Terence. My piss hat. Are you waiting?
No, says the Parrot-Boy. I'm not waiting.
If you stay, I'll watch over you, says Terence.
I'm a Parrot-Boy, says the Parrot-Boy. I'll watch over YOU.
No need, says Terence. I'm a prince. I do magic.
Princes don't do magic, says the Parrot- Boy.
I mean science, says Terence, quickly.
.........
Did you escape Segolène? asks Vello, after a prolonged silence.
Yes, says David. She's off looking for Terence.
Terence! says Vello. I didn't know he was missing.
He is missing, says David.
Pity, says Vello. Not much we can do about that.
David looks doubtful.
........
Night falls.
In the bed, made up with sheets that are crumbling, Vello dreams about Madame du Châtelet.
Emilie.
What a woman she was. Scientist and mathematician, friend and colleague and lover.
And her husband didn't mind.
They used to Newtonise together. Or so they called it.
Ah.... the delightful dreamy landscapes of science........
David, in another bed made up with sheets that are crumbling, dreams he is singing in a high tenor voice.....goodnight Irene...... the audience cheers and whistles.
......
In the town, Terence keeps watch over the Parrot-Boy, until the Parrot-Boy rises and hovers to keep watch over him.
The Alps! The beautiful Jura Mountains.
Birds are visible dots in the distance.
Perhaps they are bee eaters, terns, little ringed plovers. Perhaps a stone curlew, a black woodpecker, a raven, a short-toed eagle.
He thinks of the things he has done in this room, besides birdwatching.
The words, written and spoken.
David appears at the door with a dusty bottle.
I've just been down in your cellar, says David.
Good man! says Vello. I'll find us some glasses.
It's not a bad drop. Champagne, hundreds of years old, a little flat, very sticky and yellow.
Vello leans back in a comfy old chair. David leans back in another.
I wrote my best things in here, says Vello.
Ah, says David. Candide.
Of course Candide, says Vello. But also Irene.
Irene?
Oh yes Irene, says David. That was.....?
Very popular, says Vello.
But how did it go? asks David. Oh wait...... it's coming back to me. Goodnight Irene. Lovely song.
Indeed, says Vello, but no thanks to me. My Irene is a play. Unable to marry the man who assassinates her husband, she kills herself.
And is the song in it? asks David.
Of course not, says Vello. It's a tragedy, in the classic tradition. Pour me another.
He holds out his glass. David pours him another.
They both look out of the window as various alpine dots fly by.
........
Terence waits outside the Post Office.
The Post Office is shut.
Someone lands beside him. A Parrot-Boy.
Are you waiting for something? asks the Parrot-Boy.
Yes, says Terence. My piss hat. Are you waiting?
No, says the Parrot-Boy. I'm not waiting.
If you stay, I'll watch over you, says Terence.
I'm a Parrot-Boy, says the Parrot-Boy. I'll watch over YOU.
No need, says Terence. I'm a prince. I do magic.
Princes don't do magic, says the Parrot- Boy.
I mean science, says Terence, quickly.
.........
Did you escape Segolène? asks Vello, after a prolonged silence.
Yes, says David. She's off looking for Terence.
Terence! says Vello. I didn't know he was missing.
He is missing, says David.
Pity, says Vello. Not much we can do about that.
David looks doubtful.
........
Night falls.
In the bed, made up with sheets that are crumbling, Vello dreams about Madame du Châtelet.
Emilie.
What a woman she was. Scientist and mathematician, friend and colleague and lover.
And her husband didn't mind.
They used to Newtonise together. Or so they called it.
Ah.... the delightful dreamy landscapes of science........
David, in another bed made up with sheets that are crumbling, dreams he is singing in a high tenor voice.....goodnight Irene...... the audience cheers and whistles.
......
In the town, Terence keeps watch over the Parrot-Boy, until the Parrot-Boy rises and hovers to keep watch over him.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Difficult Identifications
Segolène points out the one hundred houses which Voltaire built for his poorest villagers.
There, she says. And in several more places. Over one hundred houses!
What generosity! says Vello. The humanity!
Indeed, says Segolène. He gave them interest free loans. And when food was scarce he would feed them.
No doubt he had plenty of food, says David.
Well yes, says Segolène. He had farms and an orchard. As well as a beautiful garden with a fine view of the Alps. Come with me. We shall see it.
They head towards the château.
Here they are, at the gates. Entrance to the grounds is free. The gates are open.
There isn't a letterbox.
Is there a post office? asks Vello. I'm expecting some hats in the morning.
Back that way, says Segolène. But please, do enter the garden.
Very nice, says David. Trees, grass, flower beds, and hard seats to sit on.
And this is the house, says Segolène. For six euros apiece you may go in and have a look round. But only the ground floor is open.
Nonsense, says Vello. I shall go where I please on my own property.
Do you mean to persist in this role? asks Segolène.
Oh no, says Vello.
Good, says Segolène.
They march up the steps, Vello, David, Segolène and..... oops! where is Terence?
Terence has turned back at the gates, to look for the Post Office.
He keeps to the footpath, which is shaded by plane trees.
There is a great deal of traffic on the road.
Terence plods on, his polka dot jersey flapping round his hard knees.
He reaches the Post Office.
Alas. This is France. The Post Office is closed for the day.
Terence sits on the pavement outside the Post Office, and pulls out his possessions, one by one. He looks at them while he is waiting.
One feather (of a parrot)
One wrinkled balloon ( previously a parrot)
One photo of a kingfisher (or parrot)
One photo of a chub ( inside out )
So much to show for what seems like a short time of travels.
Waiting, waiting, till the Post Office opens. He leans his hard curly head on the door and closes his eyes.
Zzzz........scree! scree!.....Numerous parrots* fly past him unnoticed.
Meanwhile in the château, Vello is determined to go wherever he wants to.
Not the cellar, monsieur! cries Segolène.
But Vello is not going down to the cellar. With David's help, he has tricked her.
It is David, creaking loudly, on the stairs to the cellar, while Vello has ducked up the stairs.
*they may not have been parrots
There, she says. And in several more places. Over one hundred houses!
What generosity! says Vello. The humanity!
Indeed, says Segolène. He gave them interest free loans. And when food was scarce he would feed them.
No doubt he had plenty of food, says David.
Well yes, says Segolène. He had farms and an orchard. As well as a beautiful garden with a fine view of the Alps. Come with me. We shall see it.
They head towards the château.
Here they are, at the gates. Entrance to the grounds is free. The gates are open.
There isn't a letterbox.
Is there a post office? asks Vello. I'm expecting some hats in the morning.
Back that way, says Segolène. But please, do enter the garden.
Very nice, says David. Trees, grass, flower beds, and hard seats to sit on.
And this is the house, says Segolène. For six euros apiece you may go in and have a look round. But only the ground floor is open.
Nonsense, says Vello. I shall go where I please on my own property.
Do you mean to persist in this role? asks Segolène.
Oh no, says Vello.
Good, says Segolène.
They march up the steps, Vello, David, Segolène and..... oops! where is Terence?
Terence has turned back at the gates, to look for the Post Office.
He keeps to the footpath, which is shaded by plane trees.
There is a great deal of traffic on the road.
Terence plods on, his polka dot jersey flapping round his hard knees.
He reaches the Post Office.
Alas. This is France. The Post Office is closed for the day.
Terence sits on the pavement outside the Post Office, and pulls out his possessions, one by one. He looks at them while he is waiting.
One feather (of a parrot)
One wrinkled balloon ( previously a parrot)
One photo of a kingfisher (or parrot)
One photo of a chub ( inside out )
So much to show for what seems like a short time of travels.
Waiting, waiting, till the Post Office opens. He leans his hard curly head on the door and closes his eyes.
Zzzz........scree! scree!.....Numerous parrots* fly past him unnoticed.
Meanwhile in the château, Vello is determined to go wherever he wants to.
Not the cellar, monsieur! cries Segolène.
But Vello is not going down to the cellar. With David's help, he has tricked her.
It is David, creaking loudly, on the stairs to the cellar, while Vello has ducked up the stairs.
*they may not have been parrots
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
One And The Same
The town of Ferney was once called Fernex, says Segolène. And Voltaire renamed it.
Why did he do that? asks David.
Too many towns around here ending in 'ex', says Vello.
I didn't ask you, says David.
Your friend is quite right, says Segolène. That was the reason.
And why did he come here in the first place? asks David.
Close enough to Geneva to annoy the Genevans, says Vello.
Would YOU like to be the tour leader? says Segolène. You seem to know everything.
Not at all, dear madame, says Vello. But I wonder, have you noticed a certain resemblance between me and the statue?
Segolène looks up at the statue.
She looks at Vello.
You both have big noses, says Segolène.
Terence now becomes interested.
I used to have a big nose, says Terence. Long as a banana.
Ignore him, says Vello.
Segolène is still looking at Vello's nose. His sardonic expression. Yes. Perhaps he is a descendent?
Are you related to our famous philosopher? asks Segolène.
Time to come clean, old fellow, says David.
Ahem, says Vello. Yes. I am one and the same.
So am I, says Terence. One and the same. But some of my nose dropped off, so I look different.
Terence, says David. Shut up.
It is bad to speak to young children that way, says Segolène. Let us at once stop this nonsense and continue the tour. Follow me. I will next show you the church that Voltaire founded.
Ah ha ha! laughs David. You never told me you founded a church!
Hm. I had forgotten, says Vello. Is it still standing?
Of course, says Segolène. Just over there.
They trundle over.
Here we see Voltaire's dedication, says Segolène. It demonstrates that he was quite bumptious.
Bumptious! says Vello. What did I put?
It reads 'Deo erexit VOLTAIRE', says Segolène, jabbing unnecessarily at the capital letters.
As you see, he gives himself precedence over the almighty. His own name in capital letters. God's in lower case, says Segolène.
Woo! says Terence. I'm telling Grandpa.
Your grandpa, is he a man of religion? asks Segolène.
He's the BOSS of religion, says Terence.
Infantile fantasy, says David. His Granpa is Karl Marx. Hardly a man of religion.
Segolène is beginning to wonder if her tour might be shortened.
Come, she says tartly. I will show you the one hundred houses. And then we shall visit the château.
They follow her, chastened.
Why did he do that? asks David.
Too many towns around here ending in 'ex', says Vello.
I didn't ask you, says David.
Your friend is quite right, says Segolène. That was the reason.
And why did he come here in the first place? asks David.
Close enough to Geneva to annoy the Genevans, says Vello.
Would YOU like to be the tour leader? says Segolène. You seem to know everything.
Not at all, dear madame, says Vello. But I wonder, have you noticed a certain resemblance between me and the statue?
Segolène looks up at the statue.
She looks at Vello.
You both have big noses, says Segolène.
Terence now becomes interested.
I used to have a big nose, says Terence. Long as a banana.
Ignore him, says Vello.
Segolène is still looking at Vello's nose. His sardonic expression. Yes. Perhaps he is a descendent?
Are you related to our famous philosopher? asks Segolène.
Time to come clean, old fellow, says David.
Ahem, says Vello. Yes. I am one and the same.
So am I, says Terence. One and the same. But some of my nose dropped off, so I look different.
Terence, says David. Shut up.
It is bad to speak to young children that way, says Segolène. Let us at once stop this nonsense and continue the tour. Follow me. I will next show you the church that Voltaire founded.
Ah ha ha! laughs David. You never told me you founded a church!
Hm. I had forgotten, says Vello. Is it still standing?
Of course, says Segolène. Just over there.
They trundle over.
Here we see Voltaire's dedication, says Segolène. It demonstrates that he was quite bumptious.
Bumptious! says Vello. What did I put?
It reads 'Deo erexit VOLTAIRE', says Segolène, jabbing unnecessarily at the capital letters.
As you see, he gives himself precedence over the almighty. His own name in capital letters. God's in lower case, says Segolène.
Woo! says Terence. I'm telling Grandpa.
Your grandpa, is he a man of religion? asks Segolène.
He's the BOSS of religion, says Terence.
Infantile fantasy, says David. His Granpa is Karl Marx. Hardly a man of religion.
Segolène is beginning to wonder if her tour might be shortened.
Come, she says tartly. I will show you the one hundred houses. And then we shall visit the château.
They follow her, chastened.
Monday, August 17, 2015
Number Three Is A Logical Reason
The sun glitters and birds twitter in the trees as Vello, David and Terence enter Ferney, wearing golden pith helmets.
The populace cheers.
Welcome! Welcome! Our benefactor! Hurrah!
No wait, that is just a dream Vello is having. He wakes up, and is still by the river.
David is snoozing and Terence is humming a song.
Holy moly.
Up, boys! cries Vello. Time to move on.
David starts. Ach! What time is it?
Noon, says Vello. If we get going we'll be in Ferney for afternoon tea time.
Will our piss hats be there? asks Terence.
Pith hats, says David. I shouldn't think so. They'll be coming from Paris. Where was Belle going to send them?
To the château, of course, says Vello. They'll probably turn up in the letter box tomorrow morning.
Your château had a letter box? says David.
Well, no, says Vello. Not back in those days. But things will have changed with the times. There will be a letter box.
Three hats might be too large for a letter box, says David.
All the more reason to hurry, says Vello. They might be at the post office.
Terence, who has been happily humming, screws his face up.
A few cement flakes drop off the end of his nose, and a light breeze blows them into the river.
This reminds Vello that he has promised to buy Terence a bicycle helmet.
What a bother.
He now decides against it, for three logical reasons.
1. They are only 36 kilometres from Ferney.
2. Terence will soon have a pith helmet.
3. If cement flakes fall off when he screws up his face, a helmet will make little difference.
( not everyone would agree that number 3 is a logical reason )
They set off in the direction of Ferney.
.......
The birds twitter in the glittering sunshine.
The trees sway and bend.
Vehicles too.
This is Ferney.
It's bigger than it was when I lived here, says Vello, stopping in the town square in front of a statue.
He looks up at the statue.
David doesn't.
What's that up there? says Vello.
A Parallax! says Terence.
David looks up.
It's a pigeon, says David. Shitting on the head of..... oh ha ha, it's YOU, Vello.
Shoo! Shoo! says Vello.
The pigeon flies off, in a flutter of feathers and grit.
Are you here for the tour? asks a woman.
No, says David.
Yes, says Terence.
Good, says the woman. I was beginning to think no one was coming. My name is Segolène, and I'm your tour guide for today. Now what do we know about this fellow?
She points up at the statue.
A Parallax pooped on his head, says Terence. But don't worry. We're getting piss hats tomorrow.
Pith hats, says David.
Ignore them, says Vello. Tell me all you know about this wonderful fellow.
Certainly. You will be amazed, says Segolène.
Well. This is promising!
The populace cheers.
Welcome! Welcome! Our benefactor! Hurrah!
No wait, that is just a dream Vello is having. He wakes up, and is still by the river.
David is snoozing and Terence is humming a song.
Holy moly.
Up, boys! cries Vello. Time to move on.
David starts. Ach! What time is it?
Noon, says Vello. If we get going we'll be in Ferney for afternoon tea time.
Will our piss hats be there? asks Terence.
Pith hats, says David. I shouldn't think so. They'll be coming from Paris. Where was Belle going to send them?
To the château, of course, says Vello. They'll probably turn up in the letter box tomorrow morning.
Your château had a letter box? says David.
Well, no, says Vello. Not back in those days. But things will have changed with the times. There will be a letter box.
Three hats might be too large for a letter box, says David.
All the more reason to hurry, says Vello. They might be at the post office.
Terence, who has been happily humming, screws his face up.
A few cement flakes drop off the end of his nose, and a light breeze blows them into the river.
This reminds Vello that he has promised to buy Terence a bicycle helmet.
What a bother.
He now decides against it, for three logical reasons.
1. They are only 36 kilometres from Ferney.
2. Terence will soon have a pith helmet.
3. If cement flakes fall off when he screws up his face, a helmet will make little difference.
( not everyone would agree that number 3 is a logical reason )
They set off in the direction of Ferney.
.......
The birds twitter in the glittering sunshine.
The trees sway and bend.
Vehicles too.
This is Ferney.
It's bigger than it was when I lived here, says Vello, stopping in the town square in front of a statue.
He looks up at the statue.
David doesn't.
What's that up there? says Vello.
A Parallax! says Terence.
David looks up.
It's a pigeon, says David. Shitting on the head of..... oh ha ha, it's YOU, Vello.
Shoo! Shoo! says Vello.
The pigeon flies off, in a flutter of feathers and grit.
Are you here for the tour? asks a woman.
No, says David.
Yes, says Terence.
Good, says the woman. I was beginning to think no one was coming. My name is Segolène, and I'm your tour guide for today. Now what do we know about this fellow?
She points up at the statue.
A Parallax pooped on his head, says Terence. But don't worry. We're getting piss hats tomorrow.
Pith hats, says David.
Ignore them, says Vello. Tell me all you know about this wonderful fellow.
Certainly. You will be amazed, says Segolène.
Well. This is promising!
Halo Holy Mo
Vello, David and Terence are on the banks of the Rhone river, resting
Ring! Vello gets a phone call.
It's Belle.
Are you there yet? asks Belle. Are you in Ferney?
No we're still in Bellegarde-sur-Valserine, says Vello. They've ruined the Pertes. There's a horrible dam here.
It's called progress, says Belle. How's Terence? Is he behaving?
He's acting up at the moment, says Vello. I suppose you don't happen to know where his hat is?
The Peruvian hat with the side flaps? says Belle. No I don't. What does he need a hat for? Surely he's wearing a helmet.
Err, no, says Vello. He isn't.
Papa! says Belle. What if you have an accident? What if he falls out of his child seat and onto the road?
He has a hard head, says Vello.
But his little curls! says Belle. They might get chipped. His nose, even.
Would it matter? says Vello.
Get him a helmet, says Belle, before you go a step further.
All right, all right, says Vello. How are things back in Adelaide?
We're not back yet, says Belle. Sweezie and I are still in Paris. We're looking at the shops. I'm just passing one now. It's a hat shop.
Any with side flaps? asks Vello.
Just berets and pith helmets, says Belle. What? No! You'd look like a dickhead!
I didn't say anything, says Vello.
I was talking to Sweezie. He wants to buy a pith helmet, says Belle.
A pith helmet! Ha ha! laughs Vello. He'll look like a dickhead.
David and Terence are listening.
Who'll look like a dickhead? asks David.
Sweezus, in a pith helmet, says Vello. Can you imagine?
What's a pith helmet? asks Terence.
It's a lightweight sun helmet made of dried pith, says David. They wear them in the tropics.
I want one, says Terence.
He wants one, says Vello.
Who, Terence? asks Belle. Terence wants one? All right, tell him I'll buy one and send it to Ferney.
You're getting one, Terence, says Vello. A pith helmet. And you'll look like a di.......just like Sweezus.
Yay, says Terence. Are pith helmets golden?
No, says Vello.
Who knows what the little monkey is thinking?
Buy one for me while you're at it, says Vello. I rather fancy wearing a pith helmet in Ferney.
Tell her I'd like one too, says David.
David says he'd like one too, says Vello.
All right, says Belle. On your own heads be it.
Ha ha, very good, says Vello. Bye dear!
He leans back on the grassy embankment.
David leans back as well.
The sun warms their faces. The Rhone tumbles by.
I wonder who's taking care of the office, murmurs Vello. Should have asked her......
A dragon fly buzzes.
David snoozes.
Terence invents a pith hat song, which reveals, were anyone listening, exactly what he is thinking:
a pith hat for me
made of dried wee
halo-holy-mo
a pith hat for me
made of dried wee
halo-holy-moly
Ring! Vello gets a phone call.
It's Belle.
Are you there yet? asks Belle. Are you in Ferney?
No we're still in Bellegarde-sur-Valserine, says Vello. They've ruined the Pertes. There's a horrible dam here.
It's called progress, says Belle. How's Terence? Is he behaving?
He's acting up at the moment, says Vello. I suppose you don't happen to know where his hat is?
The Peruvian hat with the side flaps? says Belle. No I don't. What does he need a hat for? Surely he's wearing a helmet.
Err, no, says Vello. He isn't.
Papa! says Belle. What if you have an accident? What if he falls out of his child seat and onto the road?
He has a hard head, says Vello.
But his little curls! says Belle. They might get chipped. His nose, even.
Would it matter? says Vello.
Get him a helmet, says Belle, before you go a step further.
All right, all right, says Vello. How are things back in Adelaide?
We're not back yet, says Belle. Sweezie and I are still in Paris. We're looking at the shops. I'm just passing one now. It's a hat shop.
Any with side flaps? asks Vello.
Just berets and pith helmets, says Belle. What? No! You'd look like a dickhead!
I didn't say anything, says Vello.
I was talking to Sweezie. He wants to buy a pith helmet, says Belle.
A pith helmet! Ha ha! laughs Vello. He'll look like a dickhead.
David and Terence are listening.
Who'll look like a dickhead? asks David.
Sweezus, in a pith helmet, says Vello. Can you imagine?
What's a pith helmet? asks Terence.
It's a lightweight sun helmet made of dried pith, says David. They wear them in the tropics.
I want one, says Terence.
He wants one, says Vello.
Who, Terence? asks Belle. Terence wants one? All right, tell him I'll buy one and send it to Ferney.
You're getting one, Terence, says Vello. A pith helmet. And you'll look like a di.......just like Sweezus.
Yay, says Terence. Are pith helmets golden?
No, says Vello.
Who knows what the little monkey is thinking?
Buy one for me while you're at it, says Vello. I rather fancy wearing a pith helmet in Ferney.
Tell her I'd like one too, says David.
David says he'd like one too, says Vello.
All right, says Belle. On your own heads be it.
Ha ha, very good, says Vello. Bye dear!
He leans back on the grassy embankment.
David leans back as well.
The sun warms their faces. The Rhone tumbles by.
I wonder who's taking care of the office, murmurs Vello. Should have asked her......
A dragon fly buzzes.
David snoozes.
Terence invents a pith hat song, which reveals, were anyone listening, exactly what he is thinking:
a pith hat for me
made of dried wee
halo-holy-mo
a pith hat for me
made of dried wee
halo-holy-moly
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Mentos Keep You Going
They arrive at the castle.
Very nice. Were you born here? asks Gaius.
No, says Cornelis van Dalem. I was born in Antwerp. I moved to Breda because of the rumours.
Rumours? says Gaius.
Nothing of import, says Cornelis. I didn't attend the Catholic church. There were rumours of heresy. A pity, because my house in Antwerp was rather splendid......people came to marvel at the facade. I had....
Splendour does not impress me, says Gaius. But I should like to see your paintings and drink a glass of your Oranjeboom beer.
Come in then, says Cornelis. You and your double.
I shall wait outside, says Virtual Gaius. Counting traffic. It's my duty.
There won't be any traffic, says Cornelis. Don't be silly. Come inside.
The three men step over the threshold into a grand hall and gallery hung with dark paintings.
You two enjoy the paintings, says Cornelis. I'll get the beer.
He disappears into the kitchen. Gaius and Virtual Gaius look around at the paintings.
It is clear that Cornelis is an excellent painter of rocks. In amongst the rocks are people in various poses, gesturing and bending, dressed in rough clothes. Goats, sheep and cattle. A fire is burning.
The paintings are not all landscapes. Gaius stops in front of a curious painting of people, some of whom sit on chairs and have cabbages for heads.
This will be the painting you mentioned, says Gaius. Can you remember the story?
No, says Virtual Gaius. I now see this as an example of crowd control.
Nonsense, says Gaius. I imagine it's some sort of allegory.
Virtual Gaius shrugs his virtual shoulders. When is the beer coming?
Cornelis comes into the gallery with a tray and three glasses, and a bowl of green mints.
These are for later, says Cornelis. They are sugar free Mentos. Made in Breda.
You don't say? says Gaius. Just the green ones?
Of course not, says Cornelis. All colours. But I favour the green ones. What do you think of my paintings?
You are unsurpassed in your depiction of rocks, says Gaius. But I should like to know more about the people with cabbage heads. Is it an allegory?
Ha ha, laughs Cornelis. Many people ask that. Take a glass of Oranjeboom, and I'll tell you.
They take a glass each while Cornelis explains the Legend of the Baker Of Eeklo.
Whenever the people of Eeklo were dissatisfied with their looks, says Cornelis, they went to the local baker, who would cut off their heads and then roll them out, knead them and re-bake them. To stem the bleeding he would place cabbages on their heads while they were waiting. Sometimes the newly baked heads would be spoiled and the owners would still be dissatisfied. A cautionary tale, as you will have gathered!
A wonderful one! says Gaius. Vanity is foolish. We should be satisfied with the looks we are born with.
Virtual Gaius swallows the remains of his beer and takes a green Mentos. There is no point in arguing. But if he had looked more like Arne than like Gaius, Belle might have allowed him to touch her......
Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord! comes a faint cry from the basement.
Jumping cabbage heads! cries Gaius. What is it?
Just my Anabaptists, says Cornelis. I've been giving them refuge. They're always re-baptising one another.
But surely these days there is no need to hide Anabaptists, says Gaius.
True, says Cornelis. And I should tell them, but really, they make such good servants. Note how spotless they keep my gallery, and you should just see my studio!
We'd like to, but we ought to get going, says Gaius.
Take a handful of Mentos with you, says Cornelis. I always find they keep me going.
Very nice. Were you born here? asks Gaius.
No, says Cornelis van Dalem. I was born in Antwerp. I moved to Breda because of the rumours.
Rumours? says Gaius.
Nothing of import, says Cornelis. I didn't attend the Catholic church. There were rumours of heresy. A pity, because my house in Antwerp was rather splendid......people came to marvel at the facade. I had....
Splendour does not impress me, says Gaius. But I should like to see your paintings and drink a glass of your Oranjeboom beer.
Come in then, says Cornelis. You and your double.
I shall wait outside, says Virtual Gaius. Counting traffic. It's my duty.
There won't be any traffic, says Cornelis. Don't be silly. Come inside.
The three men step over the threshold into a grand hall and gallery hung with dark paintings.
You two enjoy the paintings, says Cornelis. I'll get the beer.
He disappears into the kitchen. Gaius and Virtual Gaius look around at the paintings.
It is clear that Cornelis is an excellent painter of rocks. In amongst the rocks are people in various poses, gesturing and bending, dressed in rough clothes. Goats, sheep and cattle. A fire is burning.
The paintings are not all landscapes. Gaius stops in front of a curious painting of people, some of whom sit on chairs and have cabbages for heads.
This will be the painting you mentioned, says Gaius. Can you remember the story?
No, says Virtual Gaius. I now see this as an example of crowd control.
Nonsense, says Gaius. I imagine it's some sort of allegory.
Virtual Gaius shrugs his virtual shoulders. When is the beer coming?
Cornelis comes into the gallery with a tray and three glasses, and a bowl of green mints.
These are for later, says Cornelis. They are sugar free Mentos. Made in Breda.
You don't say? says Gaius. Just the green ones?
Of course not, says Cornelis. All colours. But I favour the green ones. What do you think of my paintings?
You are unsurpassed in your depiction of rocks, says Gaius. But I should like to know more about the people with cabbage heads. Is it an allegory?
Ha ha, laughs Cornelis. Many people ask that. Take a glass of Oranjeboom, and I'll tell you.
They take a glass each while Cornelis explains the Legend of the Baker Of Eeklo.
Whenever the people of Eeklo were dissatisfied with their looks, says Cornelis, they went to the local baker, who would cut off their heads and then roll them out, knead them and re-bake them. To stem the bleeding he would place cabbages on their heads while they were waiting. Sometimes the newly baked heads would be spoiled and the owners would still be dissatisfied. A cautionary tale, as you will have gathered!
A wonderful one! says Gaius. Vanity is foolish. We should be satisfied with the looks we are born with.
Virtual Gaius swallows the remains of his beer and takes a green Mentos. There is no point in arguing. But if he had looked more like Arne than like Gaius, Belle might have allowed him to touch her......
Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord! comes a faint cry from the basement.
Jumping cabbage heads! cries Gaius. What is it?
Just my Anabaptists, says Cornelis. I've been giving them refuge. They're always re-baptising one another.
But surely these days there is no need to hide Anabaptists, says Gaius.
True, says Cornelis. And I should tell them, but really, they make such good servants. Note how spotless they keep my gallery, and you should just see my studio!
We'd like to, but we ought to get going, says Gaius.
Take a handful of Mentos with you, says Cornelis. I always find they keep me going.
Friday, August 14, 2015
Well Known Cabbage Heads
Virtual Gaius is in a quandary. What to do?
Gaius has insisted on stopping in Breda.
Look, there he is down by the riverbank, talking to someone.
Virtual Gaius clicks himself on, and tunes in to the Bike Lab.
It's me, says Virtual Gaius. Gaius has stopped again.
Arne, who is sitting at the controls in the Bike Lab, calls Dr Roland Geraerts....
......who calls Associate Professor Dr Arjan Egges.
They confer.
Don't lose him, stay with him, says Dr Arjan. What's he doing?
He's talking to an artist, says Virtual Gaius, zooming in on it. The artist is painting a river scene.
Is it any good? asks Dr Arjan.
How would I know? says Virtual Gaius. I'm programmed for crowd and traffic control.
Easy fixed, says Dr Arjan.
He taps on his keyboard.
Now what do you think?
Not bad, says Virtual Gaius. It's in the style of Cornelis van Dalem. I might just stroll down there.
You have half an hour, says Dr Arjan.
Virtual Gaius strolls down to the riverbank, where Gaius is talking to the artist.
Ah! says Gaius. There you are. What do you think of this painting?
Of course, it's not finished, says the artist.
I see you work in the style of van Dalem, says Virtual Gaius.
I must, seeing that I am he, says Cornelis van Dalem.
How amusing.
Virtual Gaius appears to know a great deal about Cornelis van Dalem.
I admire your major landscapes, says Virtual Gaius. The way you introduce new themes, such as the origin of civilisation. Very cleverly executed. Most tasteful.
Thank you, says Cornelis van Dalem. Have you seen my Baker of Eeklo?
Only online, says Virtual Gaius. I should love to see the original. The villagers with cabbage heads. Ha ha!
I have it at home, says van Dalem.
Gaius is feeling left out of the artistic conversation.
What is the name of this river? asks Gaius.
Aa, says Cornelis van Dalem.
You don't know? says Gaius. Never mind, I'll consult Google maps.
The Aa, says Cornelis van Dalem. That's the name of it. Hence Brede-Aa
Aa, says Gaius. Breda, Brede Aa. I see. And what new themes do you plan to introduce to it?
The Aa? says van Dalem.
The painting of the Aa, says Gaius. So far it looks like a conventional river. Water, riverbank, trees.
Watch this, says van Dalem.
He takes his largest paintbrush and dips it in scarlet.
He paints 'Aa', in bold letters across the brown swirls of water. He lets the red paint drip down.
Virtual Gaius is shocked.
Then he isn't.
(The half hour is up).
That's very modern, says Gaius, seeing Virtual Gaius look blank.
I try to stay with it, says van Dalem. By the way, I live near here in my castle. Would you like to come home and join me in a glass of our finest Breda beer, Oranjeboom?
That would be delightful, says Gaius. And perhaps we could look at your famous cabbage heads.
Van Dalem packs up his easel and heads off down the tow path, followed by Gaius and Virtual Gaius, in opposite moods.
Gaius has insisted on stopping in Breda.
Look, there he is down by the riverbank, talking to someone.
Virtual Gaius clicks himself on, and tunes in to the Bike Lab.
It's me, says Virtual Gaius. Gaius has stopped again.
Arne, who is sitting at the controls in the Bike Lab, calls Dr Roland Geraerts....
......who calls Associate Professor Dr Arjan Egges.
They confer.
Don't lose him, stay with him, says Dr Arjan. What's he doing?
He's talking to an artist, says Virtual Gaius, zooming in on it. The artist is painting a river scene.
Is it any good? asks Dr Arjan.
How would I know? says Virtual Gaius. I'm programmed for crowd and traffic control.
Easy fixed, says Dr Arjan.
He taps on his keyboard.
Now what do you think?
Not bad, says Virtual Gaius. It's in the style of Cornelis van Dalem. I might just stroll down there.
You have half an hour, says Dr Arjan.
Virtual Gaius strolls down to the riverbank, where Gaius is talking to the artist.
Ah! says Gaius. There you are. What do you think of this painting?
Of course, it's not finished, says the artist.
I see you work in the style of van Dalem, says Virtual Gaius.
I must, seeing that I am he, says Cornelis van Dalem.
How amusing.
Virtual Gaius appears to know a great deal about Cornelis van Dalem.
I admire your major landscapes, says Virtual Gaius. The way you introduce new themes, such as the origin of civilisation. Very cleverly executed. Most tasteful.
Thank you, says Cornelis van Dalem. Have you seen my Baker of Eeklo?
Only online, says Virtual Gaius. I should love to see the original. The villagers with cabbage heads. Ha ha!
I have it at home, says van Dalem.
Gaius is feeling left out of the artistic conversation.
What is the name of this river? asks Gaius.
Aa, says Cornelis van Dalem.
You don't know? says Gaius. Never mind, I'll consult Google maps.
The Aa, says Cornelis van Dalem. That's the name of it. Hence Brede-Aa
Aa, says Gaius. Breda, Brede Aa. I see. And what new themes do you plan to introduce to it?
The Aa? says van Dalem.
The painting of the Aa, says Gaius. So far it looks like a conventional river. Water, riverbank, trees.
Watch this, says van Dalem.
He takes his largest paintbrush and dips it in scarlet.
He paints 'Aa', in bold letters across the brown swirls of water. He lets the red paint drip down.
Virtual Gaius is shocked.
Then he isn't.
(The half hour is up).
That's very modern, says Gaius, seeing Virtual Gaius look blank.
I try to stay with it, says van Dalem. By the way, I live near here in my castle. Would you like to come home and join me in a glass of our finest Breda beer, Oranjeboom?
That would be delightful, says Gaius. And perhaps we could look at your famous cabbage heads.
Van Dalem packs up his easel and heads off down the tow path, followed by Gaius and Virtual Gaius, in opposite moods.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Confluences And Lies Of The Land
After saying goodbye to the Antverpians, Gaius and Virtual Gaius push on towards Breda.
Breda is 55 kilometres from Antwerp, over the border, in the Netherlands.
Goodbye Belgium, says Gaius. They make good beer.
They do make good beer, Virtual Gaius starts to say......but he is over ridden.
At last! you are back in the Netherlands! says Arne's voice. And we Dutch also make good beer.
We do, agrees Virtual Gaius.
Are you under his control now? asks Gaius.
I am, says Virtual Gaius. And I am resuming my duties.
Which are? Gaius has forgotten.
Traffic monitoring, says Virtual Gaius. Beep! Beep! Crowd control.
It is annoying, the beeping. Gaius speeds up on his bicycle.
Virtual Gaius speeds up as well.
It is good we are going faster, says Virtual Gaius.
His voice is a curious mixture of Arne's and his own.
Gaius determines to go at his own pace. He slows down again. After all he has no particular wish to return to Utrecht. It's just this blinking bicycle which needs returning...... although the Paleomagnetic Lab at Fort Hoofddjik may be worth a visit......
Do you have an interest in Paleomagnetics? asks Gaius.
Beep beep! says Virtual Gaius. I'm counting.
I gather you know little about the subject, says Gaius.
I am programmed to monitor traffic. And we do not stop in Breda, says Virtual Gaius.
Suit yourself, says Gaius. But I shall stop here and nose around for a few hours. There appears to be a confluence of rivers....
......
Vello, David and Terence have also reached a confluence of rivers.
They are approaching Bellegarde-sur-Valserine, situated at the confluence of the Valserine and the Rhone.
I love this confluence, says Vello.
You do, do you? says David.
Me too, says Terence. Me and Grandpa went to a confluence. It was in Melbourne. I got a hat.
Vello and David ignore him.
The confluence of rivers in Bellegarde-sur-Valserine occurs underground, says Vello. Therefore it is possible to cross easily.
How do you know that? asks David.
We are nearing Ferney, says Voltaire. I know the lie of the land.
Terence, in the child seat behind David, misses the hat. Where is it?
There is a 60 metre deep geologic fault upstream, says Vello. It's called the Perte du Rhone. The Rhone disappears into it during the dry season. Shall we find it ?
All right, says David, indulgently.
But Vello is due for a disappointment.
Damn! Some IDIOT has built a huge dam. There is now a reservoir 23 kilometres long from Génissiat to the Swiss border.
Génissiat Dam! cries Vello. What a travesty!
Does anyone know where my hat is? asks Terence.
Hat? says Vello. Hat? My beloved landscape has been destroyed!
Still, says David. I do remember that hat. It was a Peruvian hat with side flaps.
Where is it? cries Terence, agitated.
But Vello is in no mood to care.
Breda is 55 kilometres from Antwerp, over the border, in the Netherlands.
Goodbye Belgium, says Gaius. They make good beer.
They do make good beer, Virtual Gaius starts to say......but he is over ridden.
At last! you are back in the Netherlands! says Arne's voice. And we Dutch also make good beer.
We do, agrees Virtual Gaius.
Are you under his control now? asks Gaius.
I am, says Virtual Gaius. And I am resuming my duties.
Which are? Gaius has forgotten.
Traffic monitoring, says Virtual Gaius. Beep! Beep! Crowd control.
It is annoying, the beeping. Gaius speeds up on his bicycle.
Virtual Gaius speeds up as well.
It is good we are going faster, says Virtual Gaius.
His voice is a curious mixture of Arne's and his own.
Gaius determines to go at his own pace. He slows down again. After all he has no particular wish to return to Utrecht. It's just this blinking bicycle which needs returning...... although the Paleomagnetic Lab at Fort Hoofddjik may be worth a visit......
Do you have an interest in Paleomagnetics? asks Gaius.
Beep beep! says Virtual Gaius. I'm counting.
I gather you know little about the subject, says Gaius.
I am programmed to monitor traffic. And we do not stop in Breda, says Virtual Gaius.
Suit yourself, says Gaius. But I shall stop here and nose around for a few hours. There appears to be a confluence of rivers....
......
Vello, David and Terence have also reached a confluence of rivers.
They are approaching Bellegarde-sur-Valserine, situated at the confluence of the Valserine and the Rhone.
I love this confluence, says Vello.
You do, do you? says David.
Me too, says Terence. Me and Grandpa went to a confluence. It was in Melbourne. I got a hat.
Vello and David ignore him.
The confluence of rivers in Bellegarde-sur-Valserine occurs underground, says Vello. Therefore it is possible to cross easily.
How do you know that? asks David.
We are nearing Ferney, says Voltaire. I know the lie of the land.
Terence, in the child seat behind David, misses the hat. Where is it?
There is a 60 metre deep geologic fault upstream, says Vello. It's called the Perte du Rhone. The Rhone disappears into it during the dry season. Shall we find it ?
All right, says David, indulgently.
But Vello is due for a disappointment.
Damn! Some IDIOT has built a huge dam. There is now a reservoir 23 kilometres long from Génissiat to the Swiss border.
Génissiat Dam! cries Vello. What a travesty!
Does anyone know where my hat is? asks Terence.
Hat? says Vello. Hat? My beloved landscape has been destroyed!
Still, says David. I do remember that hat. It was a Peruvian hat with side flaps.
Where is it? cries Terence, agitated.
But Vello is in no mood to care.
Me Crackle Crackle
Luuk, Gaius and Virtual Gaius are in Bier Central.
They are drinking Flemish Red beer.
It is sour yet fruity and mouthy.
Luuk spots some friends, who come over.
This is Gaius and Virtual Gaius, says Luuk. These are my friends Fenna, Wout and Seppe.
Hi guys, say the friends.
I have been explaining the name of Antwerp to them, says Luuk. It was so funny. I pretended I was the Giant.
Oh very funny, says Fenna. Only we all know there was no giant. It was a whale carcase.
Yes, says Wout. A whale carcase. Dug up in 1510 during excavations. At the time it was thought to be the shoulder blade and ribs of a giant. But it wasn't a giant.
So there was no giant, says Seppe.
What a bunch of killjoy Belgians.
Gaius chews on his chip dipped in mayo.
It's hard to get used to.
Virtual Gaius isn't eating, but he likes the Flemish Red beer. Glug glug. He orders another.
And anyhow, says Fenna, the Hand Werpen is only one theory.
True, says Wout. I favour the 'an 't werf ' theory.
And what is that theory? asks Gaius politely.
It means 'on the wharf', says Wout. Nice and simple.
I think you are wrong about that one, says Seppe. It is likely the name of Antwerp comes from the Antverpians, who are mentioned in several eighth and tenth century texts.
Oh yes, Eligius, says Fenna.
Luuk is embarrassed by his friends' erudition. He has only been having some fun.
He tries to alter the subject.
Gaius tells me his friend has another name, says Luuk. What was it, Gaius?
I thought you two were twins, says Fenna.
Certainly not, says Gaius. He is my doppelganger. We're on our way back to the Utrecht University. Hopefully they will turn him off, or whatever they do to close down virtual persons.
Oh how SAD, says Fenna. How CRUEL and SAD.
She pats the hand of Virtual Gaius, and in doing so knocks his volume button.
GAIUS! WHERE THE FUCKING HELL ARE YOU? says the familiar voice of Arne.
In Antwerp, says Gaius. Don't worry we're coming. No need to be rude.
I hear the sounds of a Belgian Beer café, says Arne crossly.
A man can stop for a beer if he likes, says Gaius. It's not criminal.
Who is that speaking? asks Wout.
Crackle crackle! says Arne.
Wow, says Fenna. I know crackle crackle.
Me crackle crackle, says Wout.
Hey this is getting seriously weird now.
That Flemish Red is quite strong.
They are drinking Flemish Red beer.
It is sour yet fruity and mouthy.
Luuk spots some friends, who come over.
This is Gaius and Virtual Gaius, says Luuk. These are my friends Fenna, Wout and Seppe.
Hi guys, say the friends.
I have been explaining the name of Antwerp to them, says Luuk. It was so funny. I pretended I was the Giant.
Oh very funny, says Fenna. Only we all know there was no giant. It was a whale carcase.
Yes, says Wout. A whale carcase. Dug up in 1510 during excavations. At the time it was thought to be the shoulder blade and ribs of a giant. But it wasn't a giant.
So there was no giant, says Seppe.
What a bunch of killjoy Belgians.
Gaius chews on his chip dipped in mayo.
It's hard to get used to.
Virtual Gaius isn't eating, but he likes the Flemish Red beer. Glug glug. He orders another.
And anyhow, says Fenna, the Hand Werpen is only one theory.
True, says Wout. I favour the 'an 't werf ' theory.
And what is that theory? asks Gaius politely.
It means 'on the wharf', says Wout. Nice and simple.
I think you are wrong about that one, says Seppe. It is likely the name of Antwerp comes from the Antverpians, who are mentioned in several eighth and tenth century texts.
Oh yes, Eligius, says Fenna.
Luuk is embarrassed by his friends' erudition. He has only been having some fun.
He tries to alter the subject.
Gaius tells me his friend has another name, says Luuk. What was it, Gaius?
I thought you two were twins, says Fenna.
Certainly not, says Gaius. He is my doppelganger. We're on our way back to the Utrecht University. Hopefully they will turn him off, or whatever they do to close down virtual persons.
Oh how SAD, says Fenna. How CRUEL and SAD.
She pats the hand of Virtual Gaius, and in doing so knocks his volume button.
GAIUS! WHERE THE FUCKING HELL ARE YOU? says the familiar voice of Arne.
In Antwerp, says Gaius. Don't worry we're coming. No need to be rude.
I hear the sounds of a Belgian Beer café, says Arne crossly.
A man can stop for a beer if he likes, says Gaius. It's not criminal.
Who is that speaking? asks Wout.
Crackle crackle! says Arne.
Wow, says Fenna. I know crackle crackle.
Me crackle crackle, says Wout.
Hey this is getting seriously weird now.
That Flemish Red is quite strong.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
The Severed Hand Of Antwerp
The nearer they get to the Belgian beer café, the taller their guide seems to be.
Almost a giant.
Nearly there, says the guide. Over the bridge here.
Virtual Gaius stiffens, but says nothing.
Gaius on the other hand is looking forward to a beer. He becomes chatty.
I am Gaius, and this is my companion, Virtual Gaius, although he answers to Arne. Arne is switched off at the moment. I find it more peaceful.
I am Antigoon, says the guide, in a voice deep and rumbly.
Virtual Gaius nods imperceptibly as if he knew as much.
Antigoon, says Gaius. Interesting name. Are you a local?
You could say that, says Antigoon. Just step onto my... the.....bridge will you?
What is the name of this river? asks Gaius. I should know, but...
The Scheldt, says Antigoon. And this is my bridge, and you owe me twenty euro.
Ha ha! laughs Gaius. Your bridge.
Antigoon is not laughing. He looks scary.
I think we should pay him, says Virtual Gaius.
You might think that, says Gaius. But I am the one with the money.
If you don't pay me, says Antigoon. I'll cut off your hand.
And then what? asks Gaius.
Throw it into the river, says Antigoon.
Virtual Gaius has turned pale. But Gaius is enjoying himself.
This sort of thing happened a lot in the old days.
What if I ask you a riddle? says Gaius.
Riddle, what riddle? says Antigoon. No one ever asks me a riddle.
Why is a pig's tail like four o'clock in the morning? says Gaius.
SIX o'clock in the morning, says Virtual Gaius. I remember that riddle.
FOUR o'clock, says Gaius firmly. I am an early riser. Oops that's a clue I just gave you.
I still don't know the answer, says Antigoon. What is it?
Because it's TWIRLY, says Gaius. Too early. Do you see why it's comic?
I suppose so, says Antigoon. But I've now lost the thread of my story.
I thought it was more of a threat, says Gaius.
No, no, says Antigoon. It's my way of explaining the meaning of Antwerp.
Indeed? And what is the meaning? asks Gaius. No wait, let me guess. Ummm...
Let ME guess, says Virtual Gaius. My dad used to call me a twerp, when I did something stupid.
WRONG WRONG WRONG, says Antigoon. It's Hand-Werpen, which is Dutch for hand throw. Do you see where that's coming from?
The severed hands, says Gaius. Very good. What a lot of trouble you went to. Thank you, Antigoon.
Not my real name, says Antigoon. It's Luuk. And here's the Belgian beer café. Come in, and welcome. Let me buy you a beer, and some chips. You'll enjoy our chips. In Belgium, we eat them with mayo.
Almost a giant.
Nearly there, says the guide. Over the bridge here.
Virtual Gaius stiffens, but says nothing.
Gaius on the other hand is looking forward to a beer. He becomes chatty.
I am Gaius, and this is my companion, Virtual Gaius, although he answers to Arne. Arne is switched off at the moment. I find it more peaceful.
I am Antigoon, says the guide, in a voice deep and rumbly.
Virtual Gaius nods imperceptibly as if he knew as much.
Antigoon, says Gaius. Interesting name. Are you a local?
You could say that, says Antigoon. Just step onto my... the.....bridge will you?
What is the name of this river? asks Gaius. I should know, but...
The Scheldt, says Antigoon. And this is my bridge, and you owe me twenty euro.
Ha ha! laughs Gaius. Your bridge.
Antigoon is not laughing. He looks scary.
I think we should pay him, says Virtual Gaius.
You might think that, says Gaius. But I am the one with the money.
If you don't pay me, says Antigoon. I'll cut off your hand.
And then what? asks Gaius.
Throw it into the river, says Antigoon.
Virtual Gaius has turned pale. But Gaius is enjoying himself.
This sort of thing happened a lot in the old days.
What if I ask you a riddle? says Gaius.
Riddle, what riddle? says Antigoon. No one ever asks me a riddle.
Why is a pig's tail like four o'clock in the morning? says Gaius.
SIX o'clock in the morning, says Virtual Gaius. I remember that riddle.
FOUR o'clock, says Gaius firmly. I am an early riser. Oops that's a clue I just gave you.
I still don't know the answer, says Antigoon. What is it?
Because it's TWIRLY, says Gaius. Too early. Do you see why it's comic?
I suppose so, says Antigoon. But I've now lost the thread of my story.
I thought it was more of a threat, says Gaius.
No, no, says Antigoon. It's my way of explaining the meaning of Antwerp.
Indeed? And what is the meaning? asks Gaius. No wait, let me guess. Ummm...
Let ME guess, says Virtual Gaius. My dad used to call me a twerp, when I did something stupid.
WRONG WRONG WRONG, says Antigoon. It's Hand-Werpen, which is Dutch for hand throw. Do you see where that's coming from?
The severed hands, says Gaius. Very good. What a lot of trouble you went to. Thank you, Antigoon.
Not my real name, says Antigoon. It's Luuk. And here's the Belgian beer café. Come in, and welcome. Let me buy you a beer, and some chips. You'll enjoy our chips. In Belgium, we eat them with mayo.
Monday, August 10, 2015
Exploding Fish Signs And Portents
Terence has broken rule number two, says Jérôme severely.
What was that again? asks Vello.
Handle with care, says David. I imagine he tried to. His little fingers are quite hard.
Terence wiggles his wee cement fingers, which are slimy and sticky.
Nevertheless, says Jérôme, a rule has been broken. The chub has been slaughtered. Fishing must cease.
Pooh! says Terence. I was the best one at catching.
You were, says David. Never mind. I have a photo.
Let's see, says Terence.
Here it is. This is you, holding the catch. See how big it is! says David.
Terence grabs the phone. Yes, it's a big one. He clicks on the next photo.
Ee-uw!
It's the moment when the chub's guts spurt out. And you can see Terence's fingers, making it happen.
I want to send this one to Grandpa, says Terence.
I don't think so, says David. No, don't!
Too late. Terence is pressing the buttons.
(All young people have this remarkable talent).
He calls up David's contact list. Yes! G! G for Grandpa!
He doesn't stop to think that David might not list Karl Marx as Grandpa.
Worse, he doesn't stop to read the whole name.
It isn't even Grandpa.
It's Gaius.
Oh well. No harm done.
.........
While this may not have been a masterpiece of plotting, it has been an ingenious segue.
......
Gaius and Virtual Gaius are on the outskirts of Antwerp when Gaius receives a text message from David.
He stops at the side of the road, it being dangerous to look at text messages while riding a bicycle anywhere.
It's a photo. He shows it to Virtual Gaius.
Why would David send me photo of an exploding fish? says Gaius.
Virtual Gaius examines the photo for clues.
See these fingers? says Virtual Gaius. Are they David's?
No, says Gaius. If anyone's they are Terence's. It may be a jape.
Or a warning, says Virtual Gaius.
Why should you think that? asks Gaius.
We of the Virtual Community are always wary, says Virtual Gaius. We must be. You never know what might spring up at any moment.
Gaius is intrigued to learn this from his virtual self.
A warning? says Gaius. Very well. We'll keep it in mind, and watch out for signs and portents.
They pass a signpost, with ANTWERP! printed on it in green.
At any other time this might seem unremarkable.
ANTWERP! says Gaius, stopping suddenly.
He and Virtual Gaius stare at the sign.
A passer by stops.
Are you lost? asks the passer by.
No, says Gaius. This sign tells us that we are in Antwerp. It's the exclamation mark that has captured my attention.
Don't worry, it's a subsequent addition, says the passer by. Simple grafitti. Antwerp is Antwerp still. But Antwerp itself has a meaning. Do you know it?
No. What is the meaning of Antwerp? asks Virtual Gaius.
Join me for a beer, says the passer by, and I'll tell you a story.
Who would not take up such an offer?
What was that again? asks Vello.
Handle with care, says David. I imagine he tried to. His little fingers are quite hard.
Terence wiggles his wee cement fingers, which are slimy and sticky.
Nevertheless, says Jérôme, a rule has been broken. The chub has been slaughtered. Fishing must cease.
Pooh! says Terence. I was the best one at catching.
You were, says David. Never mind. I have a photo.
Let's see, says Terence.
Here it is. This is you, holding the catch. See how big it is! says David.
Terence grabs the phone. Yes, it's a big one. He clicks on the next photo.
Ee-uw!
It's the moment when the chub's guts spurt out. And you can see Terence's fingers, making it happen.
I want to send this one to Grandpa, says Terence.
I don't think so, says David. No, don't!
Too late. Terence is pressing the buttons.
(All young people have this remarkable talent).
He calls up David's contact list. Yes! G! G for Grandpa!
He doesn't stop to think that David might not list Karl Marx as Grandpa.
Worse, he doesn't stop to read the whole name.
It isn't even Grandpa.
It's Gaius.
Oh well. No harm done.
.........
While this may not have been a masterpiece of plotting, it has been an ingenious segue.
......
Gaius and Virtual Gaius are on the outskirts of Antwerp when Gaius receives a text message from David.
He stops at the side of the road, it being dangerous to look at text messages while riding a bicycle anywhere.
It's a photo. He shows it to Virtual Gaius.
Why would David send me photo of an exploding fish? says Gaius.
Virtual Gaius examines the photo for clues.
See these fingers? says Virtual Gaius. Are they David's?
No, says Gaius. If anyone's they are Terence's. It may be a jape.
Or a warning, says Virtual Gaius.
Why should you think that? asks Gaius.
We of the Virtual Community are always wary, says Virtual Gaius. We must be. You never know what might spring up at any moment.
Gaius is intrigued to learn this from his virtual self.
A warning? says Gaius. Very well. We'll keep it in mind, and watch out for signs and portents.
They pass a signpost, with ANTWERP! printed on it in green.
At any other time this might seem unremarkable.
ANTWERP! says Gaius, stopping suddenly.
He and Virtual Gaius stare at the sign.
A passer by stops.
Are you lost? asks the passer by.
No, says Gaius. This sign tells us that we are in Antwerp. It's the exclamation mark that has captured my attention.
Don't worry, it's a subsequent addition, says the passer by. Simple grafitti. Antwerp is Antwerp still. But Antwerp itself has a meaning. Do you know it?
No. What is the meaning of Antwerp? asks Virtual Gaius.
Join me for a beer, says the passer by, and I'll tell you a story.
Who would not take up such an offer?
Fishing For Predator Fish In An Urban Setting
Jérôme goes to the cupboard and pulls out three fishing rods, and a plastic container.
Come with me, says Jérôme.
He leads them into the street and along the footpath to a small bridge over a river.
Down here, says Jérôme. On the grass, next to these flowering bushes.
He gives one rod to Vello, one to David and one to Terence.
He opens the plastic container and shows them the lures.
Once the lures are attached, they come to their senses.
What the devil are we doing this for? asks Vello.
Everyone is doing it, says Jérôme. Street fishing. We hold competitions.
Fishing competitions! says David. Did you hear that Terence? It's a competition.
Yes, says Terence, staring hard at his lure. It is shaped like a skeleton.
THIS isn't a competition, says Jérôme. This is a leisure activity.
Are there fish in this river? asks Vello.
Oh yes, says Jérôme. Plenty of chub. Now remember the rules, boys.
Rules! says David. What rules?
Rule number one, says Jérôme, CPR.
Meaning? says Vello.
Catch, photograph, release, says Jérôme. Rule number two, handle with care, rule number three, no fishing at lunch time, rule four, no walking on boats.
Ridiculous, says Vello. There are no boats . And what's this about lunch time?
Rules three and four are for the more serious competitions, says Jérôme. Just ignore them.
Until lunch time, says David. Then I am quite prepared to stop fishing.
Me too, says Vello. what time is it?
Quarter to twelve, says Jerome. I must say I thought you two would be keener.
Terence is keen, says David. Look at him fishing.
Terence is fishing quite hard. He is concentrating all his effort on staring at the spot in the water where the fishing line goes under.
( Which is fishing quite hard ).
Swloop! Terence has a bite! It's a chub, a thick bodied European river fish with a grey-green back and white underparts.
He reels in his catch.
Oo! a fine wee chub on the end of his skeleton.
Look! cries Terence. A fish! I caught one!
Jérôme flies over and grabs the chub which is struggling and flipping.
He unhooks it. There we go, gently little fellow.
The chub appears to be smiling, orange mouth open. Waiting for something.
Anyone got a camera? asks Jérôme. Hold it up, Terence.
David snaps the smiling chub in the proud hand of Terence.
Take another one, says Terence, becoming excited and squeezing his catch in the middle.
Plurp! the chub's insides spurt out through its gullet, and its tail becomes flaccid.
It is instantly dead.
Release! says Jérôme.
Come with me, says Jérôme.
He leads them into the street and along the footpath to a small bridge over a river.
Down here, says Jérôme. On the grass, next to these flowering bushes.
He gives one rod to Vello, one to David and one to Terence.
He opens the plastic container and shows them the lures.
Once the lures are attached, they come to their senses.
What the devil are we doing this for? asks Vello.
Everyone is doing it, says Jérôme. Street fishing. We hold competitions.
Fishing competitions! says David. Did you hear that Terence? It's a competition.
Yes, says Terence, staring hard at his lure. It is shaped like a skeleton.
THIS isn't a competition, says Jérôme. This is a leisure activity.
Are there fish in this river? asks Vello.
Oh yes, says Jérôme. Plenty of chub. Now remember the rules, boys.
Rules! says David. What rules?
Rule number one, says Jérôme, CPR.
Meaning? says Vello.
Catch, photograph, release, says Jérôme. Rule number two, handle with care, rule number three, no fishing at lunch time, rule four, no walking on boats.
Ridiculous, says Vello. There are no boats . And what's this about lunch time?
Rules three and four are for the more serious competitions, says Jérôme. Just ignore them.
Until lunch time, says David. Then I am quite prepared to stop fishing.
Me too, says Vello. what time is it?
Quarter to twelve, says Jerome. I must say I thought you two would be keener.
Terence is keen, says David. Look at him fishing.
Terence is fishing quite hard. He is concentrating all his effort on staring at the spot in the water where the fishing line goes under.
( Which is fishing quite hard ).
Swloop! Terence has a bite! It's a chub, a thick bodied European river fish with a grey-green back and white underparts.
He reels in his catch.
Oo! a fine wee chub on the end of his skeleton.
Look! cries Terence. A fish! I caught one!
Jérôme flies over and grabs the chub which is struggling and flipping.
He unhooks it. There we go, gently little fellow.
The chub appears to be smiling, orange mouth open. Waiting for something.
Anyone got a camera? asks Jérôme. Hold it up, Terence.
David snaps the smiling chub in the proud hand of Terence.
Take another one, says Terence, becoming excited and squeezing his catch in the middle.
Plurp! the chub's insides spurt out through its gullet, and its tail becomes flaccid.
It is instantly dead.
Release! says Jérôme.
Saturday, August 8, 2015
The Beautiful Simplicity Of Parallax
Terence is bored. The grown ups are talking about anything and everything but fishing.
Parallax for example. And Mars and the moon.
Yes, says Jérôme. I was sent to Berlin, to take observations and determine their distances.
And did you? asks David.
Yes. Shortly after that I was elected to the Prussian Academy, says Jérôme. I was only nineteen. It was a great honour. I was able to discuss science with Maupertuis and Euler, and of course Vello here.
My, my, says David. I had no idea Vello knew about parallax.
Simple geometry, says Vello, airily. A child can understand it. Terence, what do you know about parallax?
Terence reaches under his polka dot jersey and unhooks his kingfisher photo from the top band of his lap lap. It is folded in the middle. He straightens it out.
This is my parrot, says Terence. It's only a photo.
I said PARALLAX, says Vello.
He's called Parallax, says Terence. Look he's moving.
Terence flaps the wings of the photo.
And yes, Parallax is moving.
That's not an example of parallax, says Jérôme. Come here, Terence.
Jérôme places a cake crumb on the table.
Observe it from here, says Jerome. And now come to the other side of the table. Now we can establish its position.
But, says Vello. Doesn't it have to be moving?
Not if Terence is moving, says David. At least that's my opinion. What do I know?
Can I eat it? asks Terence. Then it will have a moving position.
All right, eat it, says Jérôme, giving Vello a look.
What's that look? says Vello.
Even a child can understand it, says Jérôme.
And then can we go fishing? asks Terence, now that he has the adults' attention.
Fishing? says Jérôme. What makes you think....?
They SAID, says Terence.
David and Vello look blank. They don't remember mentioning fishing.
As it happens, says Jérôme, I am quite keen on street fishing. Would you like to come with me and do some street fishing?
Yay! says Terence.
What is street fishing? asks Vello.
Allow me to enlighten you, says Jérôme. I'll get the fishing rods and lures, and we'll do it.
Terence is excited. He folds Parallax in half, and shoves him back under the band of his lap lap.
He is ready for fishing.
Parallax for example. And Mars and the moon.
Yes, says Jérôme. I was sent to Berlin, to take observations and determine their distances.
And did you? asks David.
Yes. Shortly after that I was elected to the Prussian Academy, says Jérôme. I was only nineteen. It was a great honour. I was able to discuss science with Maupertuis and Euler, and of course Vello here.
My, my, says David. I had no idea Vello knew about parallax.
Simple geometry, says Vello, airily. A child can understand it. Terence, what do you know about parallax?
Terence reaches under his polka dot jersey and unhooks his kingfisher photo from the top band of his lap lap. It is folded in the middle. He straightens it out.
This is my parrot, says Terence. It's only a photo.
I said PARALLAX, says Vello.
He's called Parallax, says Terence. Look he's moving.
Terence flaps the wings of the photo.
And yes, Parallax is moving.
That's not an example of parallax, says Jérôme. Come here, Terence.
Jérôme places a cake crumb on the table.
Observe it from here, says Jerome. And now come to the other side of the table. Now we can establish its position.
But, says Vello. Doesn't it have to be moving?
Not if Terence is moving, says David. At least that's my opinion. What do I know?
Can I eat it? asks Terence. Then it will have a moving position.
All right, eat it, says Jérôme, giving Vello a look.
What's that look? says Vello.
Even a child can understand it, says Jérôme.
And then can we go fishing? asks Terence, now that he has the adults' attention.
Fishing? says Jérôme. What makes you think....?
They SAID, says Terence.
David and Vello look blank. They don't remember mentioning fishing.
As it happens, says Jérôme, I am quite keen on street fishing. Would you like to come with me and do some street fishing?
Yay! says Terence.
What is street fishing? asks Vello.
Allow me to enlighten you, says Jérôme. I'll get the fishing rods and lures, and we'll do it.
Terence is excited. He folds Parallax in half, and shoves him back under the band of his lap lap.
He is ready for fishing.
Citrus Almonds And Dust
Jérôme Lalande surveys his apartment.
There is a layer of dust on the table.
He opens a cupboard and takes out his feather duster.
But..... perhaps he should bake them a cake.
He goes to the pantry to look for some basic ingredients.
Once the cake is in the oven, he gets on with the dusting.
Flick flick.
Ding! It's the doorbell!
He opens the door.
Vello! cries Jérôme Lalande.
Jérôme! Is it you? says Vello.
Of course it's me, says Jérôme. More face, less hair, same sharp intellect. And this must be Mr Hume.
Call me David, says David. Pleased to meet you Jérôme! Mmm. Do I smell a cake baking ?
Yes, says Jérôme. Just a little something. But who is this polka dotted champion?
Me. King of the Mountain, says Terence.
Terence, says Vello. He is travelling with us to Ferney.
Sit down Terence. Would you like to look at my charts until the cake is ready? asks Jérôme.
He takes down a wrinkly old folder.
Terence sits at the table and opens the folder.
These must be the fish. This one is called Neptune. It has a big red ring round it.
He shows it to his pussy cat grommets. Cats like fish, don't they?
Humf, says the left one. Tiddlers!
Prtt! says the right one. Sprats!
It's a NEPTUNE, says Terence. It says so. Don't you cats know ANYTHING?
Neptune! says Vello. Oh yes, I remember!
What's this? says David.
Go ahead. Tell him, says Jérôme.
Jérôme here very nearly discovered Neptune, in 1795, says Vello.
I did discover it, says Jérôme. I just didn't know what it was. I observed and recorded a star with an uncertain position. In 1847 the Americans confirmed it was Neptune. But I was the first to record it.
Well done, says David. How's the cake doing? It smells delightful.
Jérôme opens the oven. A delicious aroma of citrus and almonds fills the room.
Terence has given up on Neptune ( not enough fishy features) and picked up the feather duster.
It looks like his kingfisher parrot.
He makes it fly. Dust motes rise, with the warm currents, and fall on the cake.
But no one is bothered.
Dust motes are barely observable.
There is a layer of dust on the table.
He opens a cupboard and takes out his feather duster.
But..... perhaps he should bake them a cake.
He goes to the pantry to look for some basic ingredients.
Once the cake is in the oven, he gets on with the dusting.
Flick flick.
Ding! It's the doorbell!
He opens the door.
Vello! cries Jérôme Lalande.
Jérôme! Is it you? says Vello.
Of course it's me, says Jérôme. More face, less hair, same sharp intellect. And this must be Mr Hume.
Call me David, says David. Pleased to meet you Jérôme! Mmm. Do I smell a cake baking ?
Yes, says Jérôme. Just a little something. But who is this polka dotted champion?
Me. King of the Mountain, says Terence.
Terence, says Vello. He is travelling with us to Ferney.
Sit down Terence. Would you like to look at my charts until the cake is ready? asks Jérôme.
He takes down a wrinkly old folder.
Terence sits at the table and opens the folder.
These must be the fish. This one is called Neptune. It has a big red ring round it.
He shows it to his pussy cat grommets. Cats like fish, don't they?
Humf, says the left one. Tiddlers!
Prtt! says the right one. Sprats!
It's a NEPTUNE, says Terence. It says so. Don't you cats know ANYTHING?
Neptune! says Vello. Oh yes, I remember!
What's this? says David.
Go ahead. Tell him, says Jérôme.
Jérôme here very nearly discovered Neptune, in 1795, says Vello.
I did discover it, says Jérôme. I just didn't know what it was. I observed and recorded a star with an uncertain position. In 1847 the Americans confirmed it was Neptune. But I was the first to record it.
Well done, says David. How's the cake doing? It smells delightful.
Jérôme opens the oven. A delicious aroma of citrus and almonds fills the room.
Terence has given up on Neptune ( not enough fishy features) and picked up the feather duster.
It looks like his kingfisher parrot.
He makes it fly. Dust motes rise, with the warm currents, and fall on the cake.
But no one is bothered.
Dust motes are barely observable.
Friday, August 7, 2015
Astronomer, Freemason, Fisher
It has been a long night in Maçon.
Terence's ear studs have disagreed over everything.
For example: Which side he should sleep on.
But now it is morning.
Rise and shine, says Vello. Today we're off to Bourg-en-Bresse.
Urgh, says David, who has overindulged in French cheese. How far is it?
Not far, says Vello. Only thirty five kilometres.
But we're going to Balance first, says Terence.
No we are not, says Vello firmly. And I thought you could hear better now, with those pussy cat grommets.
Hear what better? says Terence.
Valence, says David. It's Valence.
Are we going? asks Terence hopefully.
NO, says Vello.
Terence covers his ears with his hands.
What did he say? shouts Terence.
Behave yourself, says the left pussy cat grommet. He said Bourg-en-Bresse.
For once I agree, says the right pussy cat grommet. That's what he said. We're not going to Balance.
Terence is outnumbered. They are going to Bourg-en-Bresse.
He doesn't care anyway. Stupid Willy.
He yanks on his lap lap. Stupid lap lap. It keeps twisting and showing his bottom....
Terence, says David. We have a nice little surprise for you. While you were away being fitted with grommets, Vello and I went into Territoire d' Homme, and bought you a jersey.
He opens a Le Coq Sportif plastic bag and takes out a child's polka dot jersey.
Thirty eight euro, says Vello. Try it on.
He tries it on. It goes down to his knees and completely covers the lap lap.
Yay! And it makes him look like a winner. Okay!
They eat breakfast quickly and head down to the bicycles.
On the way, this conversation:
Vello: There someone in Bourg-en Bresse I want to drop in on.
David: I thought there might be.
Terence: Is it your mother?
Vello: What a sweet question. No, it isn't my mother. It's a famous astronomer.
David: Oh don't tell me. Jérôme Lalande?
Vello: The very person. Astronomer, freemason and writer. Haven't seem him since he was quite a young lad. Very clever chap though. Elected to the Prussian Academy at the age of nineteen.
David: He'll be older by now though, undoubtedly.
Vello: O undoubtedly!
Terence: What's the Punching Academy?
David: Ask your pussy cats.
Left pussy cat grommet: He said Russian.
Right pussy cat grommet: Really? I thought I heard Fission.
Terence: Fishing! Yippee! My parrot loves fishing!
Terence's ear studs have disagreed over everything.
For example: Which side he should sleep on.
But now it is morning.
Rise and shine, says Vello. Today we're off to Bourg-en-Bresse.
Urgh, says David, who has overindulged in French cheese. How far is it?
Not far, says Vello. Only thirty five kilometres.
But we're going to Balance first, says Terence.
No we are not, says Vello firmly. And I thought you could hear better now, with those pussy cat grommets.
Hear what better? says Terence.
Valence, says David. It's Valence.
Are we going? asks Terence hopefully.
NO, says Vello.
Terence covers his ears with his hands.
What did he say? shouts Terence.
Behave yourself, says the left pussy cat grommet. He said Bourg-en-Bresse.
For once I agree, says the right pussy cat grommet. That's what he said. We're not going to Balance.
Terence is outnumbered. They are going to Bourg-en-Bresse.
He doesn't care anyway. Stupid Willy.
He yanks on his lap lap. Stupid lap lap. It keeps twisting and showing his bottom....
Terence, says David. We have a nice little surprise for you. While you were away being fitted with grommets, Vello and I went into Territoire d' Homme, and bought you a jersey.
He opens a Le Coq Sportif plastic bag and takes out a child's polka dot jersey.
Thirty eight euro, says Vello. Try it on.
He tries it on. It goes down to his knees and completely covers the lap lap.
Yay! And it makes him look like a winner. Okay!
They eat breakfast quickly and head down to the bicycles.
On the way, this conversation:
Vello: There someone in Bourg-en Bresse I want to drop in on.
David: I thought there might be.
Terence: Is it your mother?
Vello: What a sweet question. No, it isn't my mother. It's a famous astronomer.
David: Oh don't tell me. Jérôme Lalande?
Vello: The very person. Astronomer, freemason and writer. Haven't seem him since he was quite a young lad. Very clever chap though. Elected to the Prussian Academy at the age of nineteen.
David: He'll be older by now though, undoubtedly.
Vello: O undoubtedly!
Terence: What's the Punching Academy?
David: Ask your pussy cats.
Left pussy cat grommet: He said Russian.
Right pussy cat grommet: Really? I thought I heard Fission.
Terence: Fishing! Yippee! My parrot loves fishing!
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Slap Slam And Squee Squee
Lille.
In the sea-themed oyster bar, Arthur is scribbling:
stained glass slime
bilious flashes
empty table
And Pablo beside him is writing:
a tear in the teardrop
where outfalls
materialise
Yes they have drunk rather a lot.
So inspired by their poetic writings are they, that time ticks by rapidly.
So rapidly, that Gaius and Virtual Gaius have turned up.
Ah, there you are, boys, says Gaius. What a piece of good luck.
Pablo looks doubtful.
Hello Pablo, says Virtual Gaius. What are you writing?
Pablo shows him the poem in progress.
Outfalls materialise, says Virtual Gaius. I like it.
It's not finished, says Pablo.
I realise that, says Virtual Gaius. Something of consequence must happen.
Pablo writes: 'something of consequence must happen', and sits back to regard his paper napkin.
Arthur looks up at Gaius. Gaius remembers why he is here.
I wanted to ask you, says Gaius, because I think you will know.....but you must tell me if I am mistaken.
What? says Arthur. Is it about HIM? (indicating Virtual Gaius).
It's not my field of expertise, says Gaius.
Je est un autre, says Arthur.
What's that ? says Pablo.
I is another, says Arthur.
Is that meaningful? asks Gaius.
Yes, says Arthur. It's how I roll.
Gaius thinks about the advice he has just got from Arthur. who is usually reliable.
Hm.
I is another. Perhaps he should start thinking laterally.
Well then, says Gaius to Virtual Gaius. Shall we roll?
Not yet, says Virtual Gaius. I'm helping Pablo with his poem.
Ha! A difference. It is already working!
Thank you, Arthur, says Gaius. Good luck with the poetry slap.
Slam, says Arthur.
Yes, says Gaius. Slam. Good luck with it.
Have an oyster, says Arthur. While you're waiting.
Gaius helps himself to an oyster. He has long been a sucker for oysters.
( and Virtual Gaius has not).
......
Maçon.
Terence returns to the supermarket, with shiny cat ear studs.
There you are! says David. We're just choosing a cheese. Good lord, what's wrong with your ears?
Bleeding, says Terence.
They aren't bleeding, says Vello. You're wearing ear studs. Where did they come from?
I bought them, says Terence. I bought them with pain and excrooshing. These are my grommets.
Very nice, says David. Wait a minute. GROMMETS?
No need to shout, says Terence. They can hear perfectly. Listen.
Vello and David fall silent.
Squee-squee.
What was that? asks Terence.
Feet, says one of the cat studs.
Mouse, says the other.
Oh, says Terence. Here's trouble.
In the sea-themed oyster bar, Arthur is scribbling:
stained glass slime
bilious flashes
empty table
And Pablo beside him is writing:
a tear in the teardrop
where outfalls
materialise
Yes they have drunk rather a lot.
So inspired by their poetic writings are they, that time ticks by rapidly.
So rapidly, that Gaius and Virtual Gaius have turned up.
Ah, there you are, boys, says Gaius. What a piece of good luck.
Pablo looks doubtful.
Hello Pablo, says Virtual Gaius. What are you writing?
Pablo shows him the poem in progress.
Outfalls materialise, says Virtual Gaius. I like it.
It's not finished, says Pablo.
I realise that, says Virtual Gaius. Something of consequence must happen.
Pablo writes: 'something of consequence must happen', and sits back to regard his paper napkin.
Arthur looks up at Gaius. Gaius remembers why he is here.
I wanted to ask you, says Gaius, because I think you will know.....but you must tell me if I am mistaken.
What? says Arthur. Is it about HIM? (indicating Virtual Gaius).
It's not my field of expertise, says Gaius.
Je est un autre, says Arthur.
What's that ? says Pablo.
I is another, says Arthur.
Is that meaningful? asks Gaius.
Yes, says Arthur. It's how I roll.
Gaius thinks about the advice he has just got from Arthur. who is usually reliable.
Hm.
I is another. Perhaps he should start thinking laterally.
Well then, says Gaius to Virtual Gaius. Shall we roll?
Not yet, says Virtual Gaius. I'm helping Pablo with his poem.
Ha! A difference. It is already working!
Thank you, Arthur, says Gaius. Good luck with the poetry slap.
Slam, says Arthur.
Yes, says Gaius. Slam. Good luck with it.
Have an oyster, says Arthur. While you're waiting.
Gaius helps himself to an oyster. He has long been a sucker for oysters.
( and Virtual Gaius has not).
......
Maçon.
Terence returns to the supermarket, with shiny cat ear studs.
There you are! says David. We're just choosing a cheese. Good lord, what's wrong with your ears?
Bleeding, says Terence.
They aren't bleeding, says Vello. You're wearing ear studs. Where did they come from?
I bought them, says Terence. I bought them with pain and excrooshing. These are my grommets.
Very nice, says David. Wait a minute. GROMMETS?
No need to shout, says Terence. They can hear perfectly. Listen.
Vello and David fall silent.
Squee-squee.
What was that? asks Terence.
Feet, says one of the cat studs.
Mouse, says the other.
Oh, says Terence. Here's trouble.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Street Of The Hunchback Cats
Gaius calls Arthur, on the off chance that he might be in Lille.
Arthur, says Gaius. Where are you? I'm here in Lille.
It would have been wise to leave out the last sentence. Too late now.
Lille? says Arthur. Pablo and I've just left. It's underrated.
You left? says Gaius. How long ago?
Hours, says Arthur. We're heading to......where are you heading?
Antwerp, says Gaius.
We're heading to Brussels, says Arthur.
Brussels? says Pablo, overhearing.
Eventually, says Arthur, winking and covering the phone.
That is disappointing, says Gaius. I should have liked your advice.
What about? asks Arthur. Cafés? Oyster bars? There's a good one on the rue des Chats Bossus. It's sea-themed.
Thank you, Arthur, says Gaius. We might try it, but really that's not.....
However it is too late now to ask Arthur's advice on virtual technology, (specifically, the crackle crackle), as Arthur's phone has dropped out.
Arthur and Pablo, sitting in the sea-themed oyster bar, on the rue des Chats Bossus, laugh loudly.
Will he come? asks Pablo. This is the question.
If he does, says Arthur. We'll know the answer.
For some reason this seems to them both hilarious and philosophical.
They take out their pencils again.
.....
Vello and David are now in Maçon. It is late afternoon, but the shops are still open.
They enter a supermarket, to look for something for dinner.
Terence slips away.
He thinks he has glue ears. After all David said so, and David is smart.
He wanders into rue Dombey and looks through the windows of shops.
Claire's. They do ear piercing and sell youth oriented jewellery.
Terence looks at the display. Boucles d'oreilles, and clous d'oreilles. What are they? Perhaps they are grommets.
Terence goes in.
Vous voulez quoi, mon petit? says Claire who is blonde, young and pretty.
Terence doesn't speak French, only Spanish, but he gives it a go.
Av voo grommets? says Terence, pointing earwards.
Ah oui! says Claire. Les belles boucles d'oreilles et des trés jolis clous. Voici!
She shows Terence a wall hung with earrings and dotted with studs.
Terence looks at the studs. He likes the cat ones.
Vous aimez les chats? says Claire. Je les vous donnez, un cadeau pour un bon enfant.
She gives him the shiny cat ear studs.
But hélas! His ears are not pierced. Tant pis! That can be fixed in an instant!
Claire takes out a drill.
Arthur, says Gaius. Where are you? I'm here in Lille.
It would have been wise to leave out the last sentence. Too late now.
Lille? says Arthur. Pablo and I've just left. It's underrated.
You left? says Gaius. How long ago?
Hours, says Arthur. We're heading to......where are you heading?
Antwerp, says Gaius.
We're heading to Brussels, says Arthur.
Brussels? says Pablo, overhearing.
Eventually, says Arthur, winking and covering the phone.
That is disappointing, says Gaius. I should have liked your advice.
What about? asks Arthur. Cafés? Oyster bars? There's a good one on the rue des Chats Bossus. It's sea-themed.
Thank you, Arthur, says Gaius. We might try it, but really that's not.....
However it is too late now to ask Arthur's advice on virtual technology, (specifically, the crackle crackle), as Arthur's phone has dropped out.
Arthur and Pablo, sitting in the sea-themed oyster bar, on the rue des Chats Bossus, laugh loudly.
Will he come? asks Pablo. This is the question.
If he does, says Arthur. We'll know the answer.
For some reason this seems to them both hilarious and philosophical.
They take out their pencils again.
.....
Vello and David are now in Maçon. It is late afternoon, but the shops are still open.
They enter a supermarket, to look for something for dinner.
Terence slips away.
He thinks he has glue ears. After all David said so, and David is smart.
He wanders into rue Dombey and looks through the windows of shops.
Claire's. They do ear piercing and sell youth oriented jewellery.
Terence looks at the display. Boucles d'oreilles, and clous d'oreilles. What are they? Perhaps they are grommets.
Terence goes in.
Vous voulez quoi, mon petit? says Claire who is blonde, young and pretty.
Terence doesn't speak French, only Spanish, but he gives it a go.
Av voo grommets? says Terence, pointing earwards.
Ah oui! says Claire. Les belles boucles d'oreilles et des trés jolis clous. Voici!
She shows Terence a wall hung with earrings and dotted with studs.
Terence looks at the studs. He likes the cat ones.
Vous aimez les chats? says Claire. Je les vous donnez, un cadeau pour un bon enfant.
She gives him the shiny cat ear studs.
But hélas! His ears are not pierced. Tant pis! That can be fixed in an instant!
Claire takes out a drill.
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
She Represents The Crackle Crackle
Amongst two million photos there is sure to be one of a parrot.
Nicéphore flicks through the collection.
There's one! says Terence.
It's a kingfisher, but Nicéphore says he can have it.
Where to next, boys? asks Nicéphore Niépce.
Balance, says Terence. To see my friend Willy.
Maçon, says Vello. Then Ferney-Voltaire. We're not going to Valence.
Valence is not too far south of Maçon, says Nicéphore. You could make a side trip.
Hush, says David. Don't give him ideas.
......
Vello and David head to Maçon, in the sunshine.
Behind David, in the child's seat, Terence is crooning.
parrot my parrot where are you arrot
little blue and silver humm-ee?
Crooning but keeping his eye out for signposts.
Vello: Nice to hear the lad humming.
David: But it's all out of tune.
Vello: Yes, and have you noticed he always says Balance, for Valence?
David: I have. Perhaps he has glue ear.
Vello: Good heavens! What's that?
David: My nephew had it. It improved when the ear specialist fitted him with grommets.
Vello: How very bothersome. Let's just talk louder.
But Terence can hear them quite well.
........
Meanwhile Gaius and Virtual Gaius have reached Lille.
Lille! says Virtual Gaius.
I know it is Lille, says Gaius.
Sorry, says Virtual Gaius. Dull, isn't it.
Lille? says Gaius.
No, says Virtual Gaius. Being one and the same person. We know the same things.
They are passing through the Grand Place wheeling their bicycles.
Virtual Gaius looks up at a distinctive monument, a goddess-like woman holding a fire stick.
Gaius also looks up.
I wonder who that is? murmurs Gaius. She is not any goddess I know.
Nor me either, says Virtual Gaius. But note the head wear.
Yes, says Gaius. A mural crown.
They both know what that is.
And if we don't, we're not going to find out by listening.
Someone bumps into Virtual Gaius, and knocks his sound button to ON mode.
Crackle crackle. Where the hell are you? says Arne's voice.
Lille, says Gaius. Oh, it's you, Arne! Yes we're in Lille, in the Grand Place by the monument.
The allegorical figure of the woman, with the firestick and the mural crown? says Arne.
Yes, says Gaius. What is this allegory?
She represents the crackle crackle, says Arne's voice. The Austrians laid siege to Lille in 1792. They withdrew after nine days. It was an insignificant incident. But 50 years later crackle crackle. The people called it the Column of the Goddess. It was comical because she had the face of the wife of the Mayor.
Ha ha! laughs Gaius. Yes, that was comical.
It's good you're in Lille, says Arne. That is well done. You are nearly to Belgium. So we shall be seeing you soon.
Gaius reaches over to switch off the sound button.
Belgium. Wasn't that where Arthur was going?
Nicéphore flicks through the collection.
There's one! says Terence.
It's a kingfisher, but Nicéphore says he can have it.
Where to next, boys? asks Nicéphore Niépce.
Balance, says Terence. To see my friend Willy.
Maçon, says Vello. Then Ferney-Voltaire. We're not going to Valence.
Valence is not too far south of Maçon, says Nicéphore. You could make a side trip.
Hush, says David. Don't give him ideas.
......
Vello and David head to Maçon, in the sunshine.
Behind David, in the child's seat, Terence is crooning.
parrot my parrot where are you arrot
little blue and silver humm-ee?
Crooning but keeping his eye out for signposts.
Vello: Nice to hear the lad humming.
David: But it's all out of tune.
Vello: Yes, and have you noticed he always says Balance, for Valence?
David: I have. Perhaps he has glue ear.
Vello: Good heavens! What's that?
David: My nephew had it. It improved when the ear specialist fitted him with grommets.
Vello: How very bothersome. Let's just talk louder.
But Terence can hear them quite well.
........
Meanwhile Gaius and Virtual Gaius have reached Lille.
Lille! says Virtual Gaius.
I know it is Lille, says Gaius.
Sorry, says Virtual Gaius. Dull, isn't it.
Lille? says Gaius.
No, says Virtual Gaius. Being one and the same person. We know the same things.
They are passing through the Grand Place wheeling their bicycles.
Virtual Gaius looks up at a distinctive monument, a goddess-like woman holding a fire stick.
Gaius also looks up.
I wonder who that is? murmurs Gaius. She is not any goddess I know.
Nor me either, says Virtual Gaius. But note the head wear.
Yes, says Gaius. A mural crown.
They both know what that is.
And if we don't, we're not going to find out by listening.
Someone bumps into Virtual Gaius, and knocks his sound button to ON mode.
Crackle crackle. Where the hell are you? says Arne's voice.
Lille, says Gaius. Oh, it's you, Arne! Yes we're in Lille, in the Grand Place by the monument.
The allegorical figure of the woman, with the firestick and the mural crown? says Arne.
Yes, says Gaius. What is this allegory?
She represents the crackle crackle, says Arne's voice. The Austrians laid siege to Lille in 1792. They withdrew after nine days. It was an insignificant incident. But 50 years later crackle crackle. The people called it the Column of the Goddess. It was comical because she had the face of the wife of the Mayor.
Ha ha! laughs Gaius. Yes, that was comical.
It's good you're in Lille, says Arne. That is well done. You are nearly to Belgium. So we shall be seeing you soon.
Gaius reaches over to switch off the sound button.
Belgium. Wasn't that where Arthur was going?
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Museum Of Too Much Information
The museum is on the Quai des Messageries. It contains two million photographs as well as old artifacts including cameras.
Vello and David go in.
Terence has no choice but to follow.
Terence still has the phone David gave him.
Vello and David are perusing the Information.
The Information reads: ......two million photographs, also his Pyrétophore, probably the world's first combustion engine, and his 1818 implementation of the dandy horse, which he called the vélocipède....
There is always so much Information, says David.
Indeed, agrees Vello. And one ought to read it, but on the other hand....where is Terence?
Terence is photographing the photographs.
He ought not to be doing it.
A man in the Romantic clothes of early nineteenth century France comes up behind him.
Boo! says Nicéphore Niépce.
Terence jumps.
You should not be taking photographs, says Nicéphore Niépce.
I'm not, says Terence.
You should not be lying, says Nicéphore Niépce.
I'm not, says Terence.
Give me the phone, says Nicéphore Niépce.
He looks at the photos.
These are all of your face, says Nicéphore Niépce. Except this one.
That's my parrot, says Terence.
It's a building, says Nicéphore Niépce. It looks like the Hospice de Beaune.
Wah! wails Terence. That means I don't have a parrot!
You don't need a parrot, says Nicéphore Niépce. But you seem like a nice little boy. And since you are a nice little boy I will show you something special.
What? says Terence. He remembers other times when men have wanted to show him something special. But Nicéphore is rummaging through a folder.
Here we are, says Nicéphore. This is the world's oldest surviving camera photograph. I took it myself.
Terence looks at the photo.
A photo of a wall.
A wall, says Terence. If I was taking the world's first photo, I wouldn't have taken a wall.
I took the wall, says Nicéphore, because it needed several days of exposure. And walls don't go anywhere.
Terence remembers the walls of his palace. Some of them seemed to go somewhere.
It's apparent that Nicéphore's didn't.
Vello and David appear behind Terence and Nicéphore.
Everything all right? enquires David.
Yes, says Terence. Look, this is the world's first photograph. It's a wall, going nowhere.
My wall, says Nicephore. My photo, my camera.
Vello and David appear interested in the photo.
How did you do it? asks Vello.
It's the View from my Window at Le Gras, says Nicéphore. I focused the camera obscura onto a pewter plate thinly coated with Bitumen of Judea. The bitumen hardened in the brightly lit areas and remained soft in the dark areas, so that it could be washed away with a mixture of lavender oil and white petroleum. This was the resulting picture.
Clever chap, says Vello. And if I'm not mistaken you also invented a bicycle?
Vello and David go in.
Terence has no choice but to follow.
Terence still has the phone David gave him.
Vello and David are perusing the Information.
The Information reads: ......two million photographs, also his Pyrétophore, probably the world's first combustion engine, and his 1818 implementation of the dandy horse, which he called the vélocipède....
There is always so much Information, says David.
Indeed, agrees Vello. And one ought to read it, but on the other hand....where is Terence?
Terence is photographing the photographs.
He ought not to be doing it.
A man in the Romantic clothes of early nineteenth century France comes up behind him.
Boo! says Nicéphore Niépce.
Terence jumps.
You should not be taking photographs, says Nicéphore Niépce.
I'm not, says Terence.
You should not be lying, says Nicéphore Niépce.
I'm not, says Terence.
Give me the phone, says Nicéphore Niépce.
He looks at the photos.
These are all of your face, says Nicéphore Niépce. Except this one.
That's my parrot, says Terence.
It's a building, says Nicéphore Niépce. It looks like the Hospice de Beaune.
Wah! wails Terence. That means I don't have a parrot!
You don't need a parrot, says Nicéphore Niépce. But you seem like a nice little boy. And since you are a nice little boy I will show you something special.
What? says Terence. He remembers other times when men have wanted to show him something special. But Nicéphore is rummaging through a folder.
Here we are, says Nicéphore. This is the world's oldest surviving camera photograph. I took it myself.
Terence looks at the photo.
A photo of a wall.
A wall, says Terence. If I was taking the world's first photo, I wouldn't have taken a wall.
I took the wall, says Nicéphore, because it needed several days of exposure. And walls don't go anywhere.
Terence remembers the walls of his palace. Some of them seemed to go somewhere.
It's apparent that Nicéphore's didn't.
Vello and David appear behind Terence and Nicéphore.
Everything all right? enquires David.
Yes, says Terence. Look, this is the world's first photograph. It's a wall, going nowhere.
My wall, says Nicephore. My photo, my camera.
Vello and David appear interested in the photo.
How did you do it? asks Vello.
It's the View from my Window at Le Gras, says Nicéphore. I focused the camera obscura onto a pewter plate thinly coated with Bitumen of Judea. The bitumen hardened in the brightly lit areas and remained soft in the dark areas, so that it could be washed away with a mixture of lavender oil and white petroleum. This was the resulting picture.
Clever chap, says Vello. And if I'm not mistaken you also invented a bicycle?
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Everything Wrong With The Truffle
Shall we wake Terence? asks David.
Absolutely not, says Vello. Just take a photo.
David stops and takes a photo of the picturesque Hospice de Beaune. Its colourful glazed roof tiles etcetera. Built in 1452, by Nicholas Rolin and his wife Guigone de Salins, because many people at the time were destitute, and needed a refuge, with a beautiful exterior.
He will show it to Terence when he wakes up.
Vello and David congratulate themselves.
This trip should be educational.
They stop at a market and buy a Bresse chicken, two Jura cheeses, and a truffle.
And a bottle of Burgundy wine.
They press on to Chalon-Sur-Saône.
Terence is awake now.
They stop to eat lunch by the river.
Look Terence, says David, getting his phone out. This is the Hospice de Beaune. How do you like it?
Terence looks sad. It reminds him of his palace. Which reminds him of his parrot. Which is not here.
What's wrong? says David.
Everything, says Terence.
The two philosophers can well understand that what's wrong is everything.
They nod at one another understandingly, while eating their chicken.
But they are by a river. And there are birds there.
A colourful blue and silver kingfisher darts over the water.
Come here parrot! commands Terence, playing the little princeling.
Ha ha! As if that would happen.
The kingfisher flies away, with its tiny fish dinner, still wriggling.
David understands. Terence needs a distraction.
Have a wee bite of our truffle, says David.
Terence bites the truffle.
Pooh! Stinky!
He doesn't like it. He spits out his big bite of truffle.
Vello is furious. Wasting a truffle!
Calm down, Vello, says David, picking up the spat chunk of truffle. It's still perfectly edible.
But Vello can't come at it now. Everything is wrong about eating that truffle.
They decide to cut their losses and head back to town to visit the local museum.
Absolutely not, says Vello. Just take a photo.
David stops and takes a photo of the picturesque Hospice de Beaune. Its colourful glazed roof tiles etcetera. Built in 1452, by Nicholas Rolin and his wife Guigone de Salins, because many people at the time were destitute, and needed a refuge, with a beautiful exterior.
He will show it to Terence when he wakes up.
Vello and David congratulate themselves.
This trip should be educational.
They stop at a market and buy a Bresse chicken, two Jura cheeses, and a truffle.
And a bottle of Burgundy wine.
They press on to Chalon-Sur-Saône.
Terence is awake now.
They stop to eat lunch by the river.
Look Terence, says David, getting his phone out. This is the Hospice de Beaune. How do you like it?
Terence looks sad. It reminds him of his palace. Which reminds him of his parrot. Which is not here.
What's wrong? says David.
Everything, says Terence.
The two philosophers can well understand that what's wrong is everything.
They nod at one another understandingly, while eating their chicken.
But they are by a river. And there are birds there.
A colourful blue and silver kingfisher darts over the water.
Come here parrot! commands Terence, playing the little princeling.
Ha ha! As if that would happen.
The kingfisher flies away, with its tiny fish dinner, still wriggling.
David understands. Terence needs a distraction.
Have a wee bite of our truffle, says David.
Terence bites the truffle.
Pooh! Stinky!
He doesn't like it. He spits out his big bite of truffle.
Vello is furious. Wasting a truffle!
Calm down, Vello, says David, picking up the spat chunk of truffle. It's still perfectly edible.
But Vello can't come at it now. Everything is wrong about eating that truffle.
They decide to cut their losses and head back to town to visit the local museum.
Peace Makes You Want To Go
The puncture is mended.
Gaius and Virtual Gaius are back on the road.
It's good with the sound off. No more Arne's voice, crackling through from Utrecht.
They ride through Punchy without stopping. A small town with fields of war crosses.
Then through Rancourt. The same.
Virtual Gaius rides tirelessly, but Gaius is flagging.
When they reach Bapaume, Gaius stops outside the Town Hall, where his eye is caught by a stone monument.
A female figure holding two heads, one in each hand. Briquet and Taillandie.
The heads are composed. Not a hair out of place. One would hardly guess they were the heads of two representatives of the Pas de Calais who had been killed in 1917, in a German explosion.
Ah, PAX, says Gaius.
Peace, says Virtual Gaius.
The two Romans gaze at the tall female figure of PAX.
Briquet and Taillandie roll their stone eyes.
It is galling that their heads are being held in ridiculous balance by PAX, who has nothing to do with anything.
But what can you do? If Briquet and Taillandie had shoulders they would shrug, Gallic fashion.
Gaius and Virtual Gaius wheel off to look for a toilet.
Peace has made them want to go.
.......
Vello and David have made it to Beaune.
At last. Terence is sleeping.
On the way they had been having a ding dong argument.
Let us reconstruct it. Start anywhere.
Terence: Yes he would! He can do whatever he likes.
Vello: Nonsense. If God exists he would not throw stones at Saint Stephen.
David: I'd like to know how you know that.
Vello: I'm just saying it for the sake of argument.
David: But where does it come from?
Vello: First I imagine I'm God, then I extrapolate.
Terence: See, he can do anything.
David: No! That's not God. That's Vello.
Terence: But he said....
Vello: One must first and foremost be rational.
David: I agree with that, Vello.
Vello; And Terence must learn to be rational.
Terence: Belle said, Be Responsible.
Vello: Reason comes first.
David: But Belle has a point there. What did she teach you exactly?
Terence: She said Responsible means that you did it. And God did it. His hand was in the picture.
David: But think, Terence. Did God paint the picture?
Terence: He can do whatever he likes.
Sigh.
So you see why we could start anywhere.
Now however, Terence is asleep and they are in Beaune.
They are passing the Hospice de Beaune, with its polychrome roof of glazed Flemish tiles in red, brown, green and yellow.
That is picturesque, says Vello.
Gaius and Virtual Gaius are back on the road.
It's good with the sound off. No more Arne's voice, crackling through from Utrecht.
They ride through Punchy without stopping. A small town with fields of war crosses.
Then through Rancourt. The same.
Virtual Gaius rides tirelessly, but Gaius is flagging.
When they reach Bapaume, Gaius stops outside the Town Hall, where his eye is caught by a stone monument.
A female figure holding two heads, one in each hand. Briquet and Taillandie.
The heads are composed. Not a hair out of place. One would hardly guess they were the heads of two representatives of the Pas de Calais who had been killed in 1917, in a German explosion.
Ah, PAX, says Gaius.
Peace, says Virtual Gaius.
The two Romans gaze at the tall female figure of PAX.
Briquet and Taillandie roll their stone eyes.
It is galling that their heads are being held in ridiculous balance by PAX, who has nothing to do with anything.
But what can you do? If Briquet and Taillandie had shoulders they would shrug, Gallic fashion.
Gaius and Virtual Gaius wheel off to look for a toilet.
Peace has made them want to go.
.......
Vello and David have made it to Beaune.
At last. Terence is sleeping.
On the way they had been having a ding dong argument.
Let us reconstruct it. Start anywhere.
Terence: Yes he would! He can do whatever he likes.
Vello: Nonsense. If God exists he would not throw stones at Saint Stephen.
David: I'd like to know how you know that.
Vello: I'm just saying it for the sake of argument.
David: But where does it come from?
Vello: First I imagine I'm God, then I extrapolate.
Terence: See, he can do anything.
David: No! That's not God. That's Vello.
Terence: But he said....
Vello: One must first and foremost be rational.
David: I agree with that, Vello.
Vello; And Terence must learn to be rational.
Terence: Belle said, Be Responsible.
Vello: Reason comes first.
David: But Belle has a point there. What did she teach you exactly?
Terence: She said Responsible means that you did it. And God did it. His hand was in the picture.
David: But think, Terence. Did God paint the picture?
Terence: He can do whatever he likes.
Sigh.
So you see why we could start anywhere.
Now however, Terence is asleep and they are in Beaune.
They are passing the Hospice de Beaune, with its polychrome roof of glazed Flemish tiles in red, brown, green and yellow.
That is picturesque, says Vello.
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