Roger (Rocket) Ravens . . . . The A to Z of Slightly Strange Unknown Victorian Inventors and Explorers

Roger (Rocket) Ravens

Roger or Rocket to everyone that knew him had one ambition in life and that was to be the first man on the moon and so he spent his life building the Ravens Rocket Mk1 in his garden in Port Talbot. The only town who would allow anyone to build and launch a sizeable rocket from a suburban back garden without a licence.  Making it the rocket capital of Europe for a short time until the local council truly understood the risks.

It took many years to complete but with the assistance of several eminent thinkers and engineers of the time including Marlin Mascots, Harrison Horsechestnut Hutt, Arnold Alexander Axle Armstrong-Atlas and Miss Yemiliano Yaragoza he did finally finish his rocket in 1869, and on July 20th set off on his greatest adventure destroying several houses and a café on take off which did not go down well.  At this stage Mr Quinton Quantum-Quizzical said to the assembled press we know Roger (Rocket) Ravens is in his rocket but we do not know if he is alive or dead and therefore we have a paradox where both states can exist at the same time.

The trip lasted about 9 days in total and he successfully landed back in the Port Talbot  allotments, which did not go down well as it was reaching the point where the main harvest was due, and complains were made to the council.  The massed crowds were egger to see the large quantities of blue moon cheese they had heard of, but Roger (Rocket) Ravens only had a pile of grey rock. At this point folk lost interest as Port Talbot had lots of rock already and they did not really want more. And the hopes of selling Welsh rarebit made with moon cheese as a tourist attraction had now vanished into the dust (grey moon dust).

A few weeks later Roger discovered his rocket smashed up and in bits in his garden, an act of vandalism thought to have been undertaken by angry allotment holders. The local newspaper the Port Talbot Gazette proudly ran the main headline that night . . . . Who Killed Rogers Rocket. . . . A headline that has never been surpassed to this day by the local paper.

However  Roger (Rocket) Ravens was content knowing he was the first man to walk on the moon and that one day someone will find a Welsh flag with a large Welsh rarebit next to it (Rogers Rarebit  . . . . HA HAH AH ah ah ah ah ah hha ha ha ha ha haha ha ha).

The Great Paradoxes of Modern Life Part 4

The Great Paradoxes of Modern Life Part 4

1. . . . One Small Step for Man One Giant Leap for Mankind

2 . . Oooooo I dont like them let's fire this big rocket at them

A Greek Tale of Gandhi and the Men with Guns

It is Monday today and although I started to write a diary entry for yesterday it did not make it to cyberspace, well things like this happen to the best of us. Today started as a lovely sunny day but by about three in the afternoon it was like yesterday so it makes some sense to blend the two days together . . . .  Anyway to save me a little work I will sneak in what I wrote yesterday in a sort of seamless join of text so that it will be impossible too tell where one day starts and one day ends.

Its Sunday again Phew . . . . . They seem to turn up rather quickly these days, and in a traditional, going back to the point Sunday was first called Sunday it was damp, grey, cold and generally not all that great outside.  It has now gone dark too, so all in all as classic a Sunday as one could ever get in Britain in the winter.  However all is not as gloomy as it could be because Gandhi was out on the drive eating most of the day, and because the local shoot have been out shooting at Gandhi and his mates in the last few days we thought he must have been a goner, but NO.

Ok yes I have used an old drawing tonight but I am rather limited for time

I guess two things may cross your mind here, the first being I thought Gandhi was dead, has dad been doing his Frankincense (sorry that was yesterday),I mean Frankenstein experiment again. Well no he has not, not after the rumours that he had created a Zombie Mrs Thatcher I don’t think he could cope with all the stone throwing again by the Godzilla Appreciation Society who as we know are a bit left wing.

The second thing that may come into your mind if you were unaware that Gandhi had died being  . . . . WHAT? who the hell is going to shoot at Gandhi (OK us Brits did a bit once), but you see Gandhi is in fact our friendly pet Pheasant and round these parts of the rural community folk make loads of money by letting city folk shout (sorry shoot or both) all the pheasants. They are stupid birds and because they are farm reared birds sort of see humans as friendly folk that give them food, rather than a nasty bunch with guns intend on using them as target practice.  Ironically they thought much the same in India when the Brits turned up there first.

OK back to Monday, I have seen Gandhi again today he appears to have two young female admirers, I just hope this does not distract him from his bid to avoid the men with guns who were still shooting everything today, It is turning into a classic tale of the Greek Gods, our young hero using his wit and guile to avoid the giant monsters with guns who have sent two young females to lure our unsuspecting hero onto the rocks, or as they would say within range of the guns.  

OK that’s it I must go now I just hope you can untangle the two days which have been cunningly entwined in a complicated story of subterfuge (I don’t think that is like Fudge, much?) and international scandal . . . .

Oooooo I will be drumming later . . . . . (that’s Monday Evening)

One further thing if there is anyone out there thinking. . .  WHO IS GANHDI, well  he is the chap who made My Hat . . . . . . .HA HAH HAH HA HAH ha hah ah ah ha hah ah ah ha h ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ha hah ahah ah hahahahah ha ha hahah hah aha ha ha ha ha…..

The Monty Cardboard Robot Club and organizing Britain's First Commercial Rocket Flights to the Moon

Here at the Monty Cardboard Robot Club we take our Rocket building seriously, not like that Harry Potter chap, you don’t see him making rockets. There is much talk of commercial flights into space and space tourism and so we plan to have a slice of the action with our patent Steam Powered Cardboard Rocket. One of the first differences you will notice with our rocket is that you can open the window in order to be able to wave at folk during takeoff.  However it will also have a small warning sign warning passengers on our return trip to the moon that it is ill advised to open the window once in space, there will be a disclaimer about this on the ticket as we are not stupid.

Some may question making this rocket in cardboard, but it is light and robust meaning we can save fuel for the flight or squeeze a few more into economy (they don’t get a window to look out of).

However one small issue is dad has made me move wood about all day today from one place to another, which he says he needs to test the steam engine, he has suggested a wood fired steam engine so that once on the moon passengers can replenish the fuel supply from the virgin forests of the moon, which are as yet untouched by man (a chain saw will be available). I am a little concerned that if the trips became popular we might end up destroying the moons forest for ever, a very distinct possibility if we make our fortune, but sometimes in order to make an honest living we must destroy the odd forest.

Mum says we are IDIOTS and that there are no forests on the moon  . . . . . . WHAT surely NASA could not have chopped down all the trees already. You would think that they would have taken more care and made efficient spacecraft; You see what happens when you make rockets with metal they use loads of fuel…..

Mum has said IDIOTS again? 

The Hunt for Vampires, Zombies and Ghouls and a rocket made from parts from China

This morning I thought I would hunt Vampires, Zombies and Ghouls as it was rather warm; and in order to be able to sneak up on these terrible beasts I also thought the best thing to do was to disguise myself in such a way that the Vampires, Zombies and Ghouls would be unaware of my presence. In other words I disguised myself as a terrible beast that might eat bits of brain or feet.

Rob the Zombie

As I prowled round the village using cunning guile and stealth I sadly saw nothing, but I was aware that at least one of the Vampires, Zombies and Ghouls must be close by as I could hear people screaming and running off in all directions. I did try to ask a couple of the villagers about the beast but each time I approached them the terrible  Vampire, Zombie or Ghoul or what ever it was scared them off, a rather cunning plan if you ask me to stop me catching it.

Having returned home for lunch and having been told to go and wash I was forced to hunt the beast without the disguise in the afternoon but by then a large group of villagers were out with twelve bores and pointy sticks. They said the beast was horrific the scariest thing they had ever seen with huge eyes and pointy teeth and mad hair, apparently they said it looked just like the mad demented twin brother of me.  I am really annoyed I never got to see it, but when I told mum she said we were all IDIOTS?

Anyway despite the roasting humid evening I thought it best to do a bit more work on the Zombie defence system and even our friendly builder Mr Chris says he will call in next week to ensure that what ever terrible thing was prowling the gardens and woods it will not get to eat me.

A Rocket

AH yes something terrible happened yesterday you see dads rocket which will only ever be the second all British expedition to the moon has been criticised by Mr Addman and Mr Flip who have said that most of the rocket is made from Chinese sourced parts. They have (well that Mr Addman has) demanded that that we write on the side of the rocket Mainly constructed from parts manufactured in china. I did not have enough paint to do this, but in order to appease their concerns I managed to write A BIT CHINA on the side; I was planning on writing Chinese but ran out of space.

The Rocket, the Ghost Writer and the Vampire Ghost Wasps risen from the dead.

It appears that the Ghost Writer was in his big office today, the one that he will be moving out of very shortly; in fact he now has a date to leave this office which is about three weeks from today. He says this is all very well but there is loads of stuff in that office and he has this huge pile of paperwork that he has ignored since 2001 sitting in the middle of his desk, which will also be going (the desk and the paperwork). He thinks he will have to be a Ghost IT Man as he will no longer have an official desk in the new office, but he will get a shelf and draw to put things in, as he says the powers that be do not really understand all the baggage that goes with an IT man even a part time dodgy one.

Oooo yes the Ghost Writer is also grumbling about his car which is sulking with an unspecified electronic fault, you see an old fashioned steam powered car would not do that.

Yesterday I mentioned that I had been having a little bonfire burning some of the old fir tree in the garden, well unbeknown to myself while I was doing this I was being attacked big style by unseen beasts. Now clearly there are not that many unseen beasts that can attack chaps so that later on you realize that the unseen beasts have in fact stung and eaten half your body leaving you in a state of delirium and pain. I can only think of one group of unseen beasts that would be keen to do this as revenge for the destruction of their nests, and that is Vampire Ghost Wasps risen from the dead and out to give me hell for being nasty to them. It was nearly launch time before I was OK . . . . . . . 

Now you may think when I said launch time I meant lunch time but no you see dad is testing his new project in the shed, as he plans to send a small eccentric and unsuspecting child to the moon soon to look for the space gecko, he has not told me who he has in mind yet, but they are either mad or an IDIOT…..

Anyway I am not allowed to either mention or draw the rocket as dad only has planning consent for a rainwater recycling tower not a huge moon rocket, so best I say nothing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN

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Rockets, Zombies and Blow Pipes

There I was minding my own business pottering about (again), I know I have done a lot of pottering about of late but it is summer, OK it was summer it sort of vanished about the same time as dad dropped his favourite knife that he uses for loads of jobs into the atomiser expansion tank on the weather machine. He is not happy he saw this old knife (a old bread knife) as a trusty friend he has had for years and it is now deep in a tank out of reach and it appears to have ruined the weather too.

Right to get back to the point I was pottering sorting out a large crocodile for those pesky kids back at the school, I use the word pesky because it makes me sound like the baddy in that cartoon with the dog, sorry as I was saying I was sorting out a crocodile when all of a sudden I was stabbed in the back (no not dads knife) but a poisonous dart from what I perceived was most likely a blow pipe used by one of the woods Zombies frustrated by their inability to cross the now famous Zombie Defence Trench. It is the first time I have been hit by a poisonous dart from a Zombie blow pipe and after getting it out and no it was not just a splinter of wood as suggested by mum who has no experience of Zombie poisonous darts or blow pies (sorry pipes) I went on the attack by making silly faces at them, Zombies hate that. It plainly worked because The Zombies vanished as if they had never been there in the first place and I was then free to continue my day.

The Ghost Writer went off to sort a computer out that had sort of fallen onto a floor accidently while its user played some game that involve killing loads of things including Zombies I think, apparently he got a little too keen and killed his computer instead. However it was a fix the Ghost Writer could not do as the computer had been thrown into a skip, and by now is probably on its way to China or India to be stripped for parts and turned into a fruit bowl.

I on the other hand did some gorilla gardening and got two large posts to make a structure in the back patio, part of the great master plan to create a Moroccan Patio Garden in the backwaters of rural Shropshire, assuming the weather machine can do something about the weather, well lets face it dad will want his favourite knife back as its his DIY knife that does many many things like one of those Swiss Army Knifes only his has just the one long blade not twenty three and a thing to remove stones from the hoof of a horse.

If you are wondering about the picture of the rocket Mr Jones is saying “If the mountain won't come to Muhammad then Muhammad must go to the mountain”.  Oooooo that made Charles and Quentin’s (back in GCHQ) ears perk up a bit, sorry chaps its just an old saying. . . . .