Dr Yes: This is Not Steampunk Art
. . . apparently. I certainly thought it was steampunk, but the link says it’s not. It’s still beautiful, and there’s more here: http://coilhouse.net/2010/03/ron-pippins-biomechanical-menagerie/
Dr Yes: Spy Suits for Women
Nuff said.
For a funny discussion on what spies inevitably wear, go to tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SpyCatSuit
. . . but be advised that
(a) TV tropes is highly addictive.
(b) Not every section is suitable for young or tasteful minds.
Dr Yes: Spy Food
I always thought nougat was a food that dropped whole from heaven (neatly wrapped). So imagine my surprise when my calendar (a food one – diabolical indeed) informed me that nougat was made up of ingredients, whipping, and heat.
Three things make it worthy of being part of the Jimmy Bind blog.
1. Liquid Glucose. It is the slowest-moving substance known to man. For this reason, putting the first ingredient into a saucepan takes three hours (six, if you measure it properly). If you’re ever about to be killed by a supervillain, ask to be drowned in liquid glucose. Then you’ll probably either die of old age, or walk away over the top.
2. Humidity changes how it turns out. Another reason to cook it deep inside your multi-level cave lair.
3. General sugary stickiness. Once you’ve made nougat, it’s with you for life – in the mixing bowl, saucepan, jug – on the floor, walls and benches – in your clothes and in your hair. If you want to torture someone, tell them to clean up after you. (Side note: My husband is in the kitchen, washing up, RIGHT NOW. At least now I know he’ll never leave. PS Thanks, sweetheart.)
4. I myself (technically) failed – clearly because of sabotage. (No, I don’t have a sugar thermometer. Why do you ask?) I say technically, because ending up with a sugary, vanilla-y mass is never truly a bad result.
Nutty Vanilla Nougat
1. 1 c liquid glucose. aka sweet flowing DOOM
2. 2.75 c white sugar (not caster)
3. 0.5 c honey
4. .75 c water
5. 2 large egg whites, at room temperature.
6. A pinch of salt.
7. 3 tsp vanilla essence.
8. 100g butter, at room temperature.
9. Stuff to put in (in my case, pistachios and chopped glace cherries. You may prefer to eat the souls of children, fingers of enemies, etc).
A. Grease and line a slice pan. Mix the first four ingedients in a saucepan over low heat until sugar dissolves. Simmer until it’s 121 degrees Celsius on a sugar thermometer. (Also handy for boiling unwelcome visitors.)
B. Pour one-quarter of the syrup into a jug. Set jug and saucepan aside.
C. Put egg whites and salt in a ceramic bowl. Mix on high and gradually add the contents of the jug until mixture is thick and holds its shape.
D. Reheat remaining syrup until it’s 145 degrees, then slowly add it to the meringue. (This is the point at which you removed the bleached bones of your unwelcome visitors and feed any remains to your cat.)
E. Add butter and vanilla, and beat the whole thing for five minutes.
F. Stir in your extra bits with a metal spoon, and pour it all into the pan.
G. Refrigerate for three hours or until firm.
H. Eat the whole darn thing.
I. Throw up.
Dr Yes: Story So Far
1.
I unclipped Yen’s handcuffs and went down on one knee under the tropical sun of her prison-island home. “My darling, will you marry me?”
*
“’Kay,” she said.
I stood and kissed her tenderly, then ran for the chaplain. When he was ready to go, I decided to freshen up.
* (3 hour gap)
I emerged resplendent to find the priest knocked out, my ornithopter gone, and my fiancé. . . well, she was obviously still doing her hair.
2.
The love of my life, gone! She may still be cross that I killed her power-mad mum. But surely she doesn’t STILL want to destroy the world?
*
Time to be a super-handsome super-spy again. Thank goodness for plastic surgery. Yen was born in Beijing, so I got a flight there at once.
*
I was met at the airport by a strangely attractive nun who took me deep underground before telling me the horrible truth: “Yen’s my cousin.”
3.
In laws! They’re always so tetchy. I let the nun torture me a few hours and then knocked her out with a high-kick to the face. Then I fled.
4.
I searched for Yen in the shopping district. As I tried on an especially snazzy shirt in the back, I heard the nun’s nasal tones.
*
The evil nun was apparently in league with my shopkeeper! A deadly pair! I duct-taped shut the mouths of the other patrons and listened in.
*
“Yen’s in Beijing – and so’s that British superspy,” said the nun.
The shopkeeper said, “We’ll kill them both!”
“Perfect. Hey, nice shirts!”
5.
I bought hundreds of TV and streetside ads warning Yen of her mortal danger – and asking her to pretty please return my ornithopter.
*
As I returned to my hotel after another day of searching, I found a single long-stemmed black rose on my pillow. She still loved me!
6.
I spotted Yen trying on shoes and gave chase. She was too quick, but I taped my two high-tech matchbox cars to my feet for more speed.
*
Matchbox-car skating requires the perfect balance that only MI6 training can give. Unfortunately it’s been a while and I crashed into Yen.
*
I clicked my sleeping-gas pen in her face and carried her over the threshold into my – our – hotel room until she regained consciousness.
7.
Yen awoke, but didn’t seem to appreciate the scattered rose petals or the scented candles surrounding her. Then she peeled off her mask!
*
I gasped, “Mrs Fu!”
“In the flesh!”
“But. . . I threw you into a volcano. I think your daughter may still be miffed.”
“Mums are made tough.”
8.
After we’d caught up on the latest in international spy goss, Mrs Fu and I tested one another with tea. I gave her just a pinch of arsenic.
*
I tasted my own tea cautiously. Cyanide, yes. But only a token amount. Mrs Fu and I understood one another perfectly: no death – for now.
*
Mrs Fu said she knew exactly where Yen was hiding. We caught a train to the Great Wall. “Um, isn’t the Great Wall rather. . . long?” I said.
9.
We searched all night and day. Suddenly we found ourselves surrounded by Shaolin monks. “He’s with me,” said Mrs Fu.
They said, “We’re not.”
*
I grabbed my trusty blow-up gum but the monks wore titanium robes. No fair! They whipped out pens – strangely familiar pens. Noooo!!!
*
10.
Regained consciousness briefly while having a dream about killer mushrooms. One of the monks hit me on the head, and the mushrooms returned.
11.
I awoke strapped to the Great Wall with my own duct tape. Had intense déjà vu. Mrs Fu was taped beside me, and so was a black rose.
*
“It’s all right Mrs Fu – Yen must be safe if she’s given me a rose.”
“Great. End of story then. I’m afraid Yen no longer needs our help.”
*
I said, “But. . . it can’t be the end. I haven’t done anything heroic yet.”
“Why don’t you heroically help me down, then?” said Mrs Fu.
12.
Mrs Fu and I walked back along the wall while she tried to explain something about my relationship with Yen. I’m sure it wasn’t important.
*
My shoe phone rang. I answered, “Bind. Jimmy Bind.”
“HQ here. We need you to track the fugitive Yen Fu. Naturally she’s been microchipped.”
*
Mrs Fu and I followed the beeps back to a cunningly disguised lair beneath the Great Wall. We hid ourselves outside and waited.
13.
A Shaolin monk came out, and Mrs Fu kicked him in his monk parts. I clicked him with sleeping gas, and we dragged him into the bushes.
*
Another monk! I barrelled out and hurled him to the ground. He punched me in the belly but I bashed his head against his titanium robe.
*
Yen emerged. “Mu-um! You couldn’t just knock?”
“They drugged us,” I said.
Yen shrugged: “Boys will be boys. Won’t you come in?”
14.
Mrs Fu said, “Jimmy here found out something useful.”
Yen’s jaw dropped (I’m not sure why): “What did you find out?”
I told her everything.
*
Yen said, “Hmm. Thanks for that, guys. What do you say we go kill my evil cousin?”
“Sounds good,” said Mrs Fu.
I said, “I’m in.”
15.
The monks were hurt we beat them up. Lucky monks are so forgiving. They helped us build a boat out of duct tape so we could travel quickly.
*
On our way to Beijing, we were hurled ashore by a massive waterfall. I could have sworn the monks didn’t mention it – or my ornithopter.
*
As we walked the last kilometres to Beijing, I picked flowers for Yen and said, “Thanks for the roses.”
“What roses?” she said.
16.
We searched the shopping district for hours without finding the nun or the shopkeeper. The two Fus were disheartened.
*
Success at last! Still no sign of the evil nun, but I found some pants that are simply divine.
17.
We were perfectly innocently walking along when the nun attacked! She tossed Yen away like a doll and blasted Mrs Fu with a shotgun.
*
Yen shouted, “You never mentioned she was a NUN!”
“Oops!” I said, and spat my blow-up gum.
My gum missed the nun and incinerated a hotel.
*
Twenty more nuns appeared and Yen backflipped away. I threw one of my cars at the first nun’s head and she dropped, but I was overwhelmed.
18.
It was nice to be back in the ol’ torture chamber. Yen’s cousin smirked, “Did you like my roses?”
I gasped, “That was YOU!?!”
Mrs Fu sighed.
*
I speak thirty-two languages, but Yen spoke one I didn’t know: “Ixnay on the osesray! Immyjay’s inemay!”
What could she possibly have said?
*
Yen never had a yen for me! She only became my fiancé to get off the isle of her imprisonment. What a fool I am! But I still love her.
19.
The nun tortured me alone, and suddenly switched to Barry White and more black roses. I recognise the signs of Jimmy fever when I see them!
*
I said, “You’re a very pretty. . . nun. . . but I’m engaged.”
She put me in the electric chair. We certainly had a spark, but I loved Yen.
Dr Yes: Lair
Unfortunately people with real-life lairs generally call them something sensible like, “my house”, “a castle” or, “the president’s top secret military installation”. The only place to find an honest lair is in computer games. But they’re still good and pretty.
Dr Yes: Personal Flying Machine
1- Gryphon Attack Glider
Formerly known as The ESG Gryphon Personal Flying Wing this has to be the ultimate in Spy Gear! It has a maximum glide speed of 135 mph and has a heads up display and even onboard oxygen for those high altitude launches. This baby can carry a payload of 100lbs of onboard gear and has hard mount points for hooking up tactical bombs or missiles! With a glide range of 125 miles and a radar cross section of a seagull (or Stealth Bomber) you can glide into North Korea take out The Great Leader and like Ace Rimmer be back in time for a smoked kipper for breakfast. Only thing is you’ll need an extraction team as landing is acheived by separation from the wing which will activate your parachute.
Dr Yes: Are you a heroic sidekick?
I’ve written a new kind of personality test – whether a person is a hero type or a heroic sidekick. I’m in the beginning stages of designing a much more interactive web site for my stories, and this is part of it. I need test monkeys… and that’s where YOU come in.
Please answer the questions with true or false, then put your results in the comments (along with any actual comments about the test and what you think of it). I’ll give you your personality breakdown shortly.
Hero or Heroic Sidekick?
True or False (or Neither)
1. Life without a purpose is not worth living.
2. If no-one tells me what to do, nothing much gets done.
3. I don’t mind letting someone else make the decisions.
4. I love motivating people.
5. I can handle a tough boss more easily than a tough employee.
6. I don’t like being given responsibility.
7. I make life interesting.
8. I enjoy life for what it is.
9. When my friends want something unusual, I make it happen.
10. People enjoy having me around.
11. If a job isn’t meaningful to me, I resign.
12. I struggle with my boss/es regularly.
13. I almost always get on with people. It’s not hard for me.
14. I don’t suffer fools gladly.
15. I am a natural leader.
16. I will fight to the death for something I believe in.
17. I don’t worry about the future.
18. I’m easily satisfied.
19. I am brave (or possibly stupid).
20. I am a peaceful person (or possibly lazy).
21. I suspect I’m difficult to live with.
22. If I was any more laid back, I’d be dead.
Dr Yes: Real-Life Military Lairs
I’ve talked about lairs before, and today at Steff Metal I discovered a link to a number of stunningly beautiful star-shaped military fortresses. This kind of fortress was invented around the same time as the cannonball, which explains the “why” (even the moats are genuinely useful). Or you could just look at them, and drool.
http://weburbanist.com/2010/03/11/starry-knights-14-stellar-star-shaped-fortresses/
Dr Yes: Steampunk Party
Here’s another stellar example of a steampunk birthday party. The first picture is me.
Dr Yes: Freaky Flatmates
I discovered a very new, very funny blog today, and decided reading someone’s blog is SORT OF like spying. . . so it’ll suffice for today’s spy-related blog entry. I’d rate it PG (thus far) for mention of sex. Given that it’s about unusual flatmates, that rating is likely to go up. . .
Felicity Banks 
