Sunday, November 19, 2006

Space debris

Sometimes you read something so true and yet so strange that the hairs on the back of your neck rise up and the blood drains from your face.

I found myself in exactly this condition less than two hours ago when I read the Comment from Beau Blue in response to my previous post.

You remember my previous post? Due to the extraordinary distortion of the space-time continuum causated by Blogger my previous Post is actually the one after this. Which reversion, incidentally, might have had Einstein beating his head off his keyboard as his Theory of Relativity failed to cope with this extraordinary non-linear time reversal.

You will remember - or you will if you have read the previous post, that is to say the one after this one - that I displayed the two strange artefacts left over after I reassembled my malfunctioning dishwasher. A number of theories were subsequently advanced as to their origin, form and function. Reluctantly I dismissed them all, mostly as too far-fetched or just plain stupid. Until, that is, I came to Beau's post.

"Bits of a space ship" opined Beau. The words hit me like a large chunk of space debris hurtling down through my roof and landing forcefully on my head. How could I have been so stupid, so blind, so uncomprehending. And ultimately so grateful.

Beau, what can I say? Apart from thank you. I mean, obviously once you've had it explained to you it's....well, obvious. But doesn't this response exemplify the true beauty of the internet? Ask any question and the greatest minds in the world are at your disposal, eager and ready to search for a solution. An unprecedented army of truly great thinkers, all without exception experts in their fields. Never before in human history has so much sheer brainpower been available at the press of a button. What did I say the other day? No problems, only solutions. Thanks, Beau, for proving me right.

As a result of Beau's magnificent insight I can once again run the dishwasher without worrying that it might disintegrate, its structural integrity fatally compromised by some leftover mechanical gubbins.

So, we now know what the alien artefacts are. I guess only two questions remain: how did they come to end up inside my dishwasher, here in rural Aberdeenshire, in the middle of nowhere? And, more worryingly, why?

Any ideas, anybody? (not you, Beau).


  1. Clearly, Bill, they are here to observe us. What better vantage point than our very kitchens, the centers of our homes? Notice I said "kitchens"--plural.

    Because they are with us, Bill. Yours are just one more data point for the ever more complete picture of us they're so patiently building.

    What grisly denouement lies in store for us when that picture completes itself can only be guessed at, but clearly we should begin preparing ourselves.

    We may all have to move to France.

  2. Anonymous11:29 pm

    Oh don't be so bloody stupid jta. Most dishwasher parts come from France no matter what it says on the box.
    Therefore we should move to New Zealand, where dishwashers still remain free of alien debris and the sheep are rather attractive too!

  3. But I can't speak New Zealish. Canoe?

  4. They have dishwashers in France? What in hell do the writers do?

  5. Anonymous10:07 am

    Dunnoe, never tried.

    There are writers in France?

  6. 'Not you, Blue.'

    Would it surprise you to know that the tally on the number of times that particular phrase has been aimed at me is in the hundreds of thousands? It's always surprised me.


    * *

    So, to which great mind at the dishwasher manufaturer did you email the photo? As far as getting Matthew's images in front of some great minds, which would YOU suggest?


  7. Beau, you know I didn't mean it, just my little joke. Your opinions are welcome any time -especially here.

    The Matthew thing still bothers me and I don't have any answers. I'll post again on the subject shortly.