One Man & His Telescope

The true to life, day to day story of a new telescope.

OK? It’s anything but!

So it’s been a while……

The nights suitable for taking astro-photos have been so dreadfully infrequent, that a 3 toed sloth could count them on one hand/paw.

However in this time, during which the nights dont really get dark anyway, I have managed to take one photograph which received the ultimate acclaim. Namely, the wife saying “That’s not one of yours, is it?”

She still doesn’t believe me. Result!

But that’s not the reason I have called this meeting.

People of the world, it is time to take action!! I have recently become aware of EVIL propaganda, which is being spread like a malicious disease all over the place.

It was quite by accident that this insidious monster came to my attention. During these cloudy weeks, and having re-read all my back copies of “Electrical-Installation in Portable Chicken Feeders Weekly” I was searching for something else to feed my hungry brain with.

The wife came home with a glossy magazine that sounded REALLY exciting, promising pictures of the stars in all their glory, world exclusive stories, new interviews and more. I was almost drooling with excitement, expecting a banquet of fascinating information, a smorgasbord of astro-technology. Here I was sure was the latest facts and figures about things like the LHC. (Large Hadron Collider) See the CERN website. I dont know too much about him, but this Hadron must be quite a guy, judging by the wall he built across the English/Scottish border.

At any rate, there are those that that believe that when they turn on this machine, it will create a mini black hole that will suck the world as we know it into oblivion for eternity, leaving the only trace of humanity on Mars, in the form of a couple of robots with cameras, (loosely based on Japanese tourists I think).

Now THAT is the kind of thing we NEED to know. I mean, if the world is gonna end when some little european science geek plugs his machine into the mains, then we should be out there campaigning. Campaigning for higher limits on our credit cards, so that we can buy and use as much astro-kit as we possibly can before our number’s up. Hell, I’d even buy that pair of shoes the missus has always wanted. (She DOES look good barefoot though, which is why I keep her that way.)

On the other hand, if they keep pushing up the price of fuel, there’s gonna be no way they can afford to run the Large Hadron Collider, and it will become the world’s most expensive ornament.

Fuel! There’s another thing! I remember when you could go down the road and siphon off a gallon or two of petrol from parked cars, no trouble at all. Now there’s a queue wherever you go! Trying to save a few hundred pounds worth of fuel by letting the car coast down a hill, I came very close to a sticky end. I know NOW that turning off the ignition turns off the steering, the air con and the brakes. Apparently it also turns ON the steering lock and immobiliser. Hah! Some immobiliser, there I was, careering downhill at about one hundred miles an hour, I dont call THAT being immobilised. The car hurtled on and on, and was brought to an abrupt halt when it collided with a tanker carrying liquid toffee. A millions gallons of caramelly goo came gushing in my general direction, and I was only spared when a passing troupe of Weightwatchers on a day trip leapt from their coach and ploughed into the toffee, consuming the greater part before I was drowned by it. (Actually I should point out that there was a loss of life, a certain Ms Wigglebottom got into difficulty and drowned in the liquid sugar. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t got out 3 times to go to the toilet.)

But that’s another story. It’s funny but I can’t say the phrase “Large Hadron Collider” without thinking about the time my mother-in-law took a driving lesson. There was all that confusion with the shoe-horn, and the ensuing legal battles with the makers of the Mini, who insisted that if somebody can get INTO a car, then they should be able to get OUT of it too, regardless of how many packs of sausage rolls they ate during the journey. The instructor didn’t help, he should NEVER have tried to give a lesson while sitting on the roof, no matter how short of room the car was on the inside.

Actually, I am pleased to report that I get on a lot better with the mother-in-law these days, ever since she got a new job with the UN. Apparently they take her to developing countries and lay her across a valley, where she acts as a temporary dam. It was all going quite well until a short sighted farmer tried to drive a herd of cattle over her. The poor things were so traumatised that half of them jumped into the water, and the rest stopped producing milk and took to hanging around on street corners. The farmer on the other hand seemed to fall instantly in love (I did say he was short-sighted), and I think she may have accepted his proposal if he’d have offered just one more camel.

But back to the issue at hand. The “Star” magazine. You know, when I last checked, a ‘Star’ was an exploding giant ball of hydrogen fuelled nuclear power, millions of kilometers in diameter, with a lifespan of billions of years.

No, it’s no good, I’m gonna have to come back to this…. I’m still seeing red. I’m typing so hard the springs under the keys keep breaking….I’ll take a relaxation break…. and then come right back…… but be warned, it’s not a pretty story…!

To be continued……