Us Bad Boys

I Was Both Inspired -
 - and amused by Alison's efforts to repair or replace a dud monitor on our floor today.  She called one department, who referred her to another department, who referred her back to the original, who lied and said they'd never heard of her before, and then insisted she e-mail them with the request made in the Tosk dialect of Albanian -
     She did, eventually, manage to shame a couple of technicians sufficiently for them to appear, but only when she briefly left the floor.  Those technicians performed so fast Usain Bolt would have been impressed.
     "That," I thought in my characteristically, hatefully-humourous high-falutin'* way, "Reminds me of the Greek myth.  Who was it that got sentenced to push a boulder up a hill?"
     That was a rhetorical question, I already knew the answer*: Sisyphus.

Push!  Put some effort into it!

       King Sisyphus, to give him his correct title, was a byword throughout the world of classical mythology for slyness and deceit, thinking himself smarter than Zeus.  This is not really a sustainable position, as the one Greek god you really, really don't want to offend is Zeus.  So, ol' Sis got himself sentenced to roll a huge boulder up a hill, only for it to always roll away from him before he reached the top.
     Conrad did wonder why he continued.  Why not take a holiday from rock-rolling and travel the world, start a family, learn to play the guitar; after all, you've got eternity to work with, haven't you?

     Then, still thinking, Conrad dwelt on Prometheus.  He was one of the Titans and took the side of Zeus in the war against his own kind, which was where the smart money went as Zeus and the Olympians won.  Ol' Prom didn't remain on-side for long, as he stole fire and passed it on to humans.  Well, that serves those careless Olympians right, doesn't it!  You must always ensure your fire is securely locked-up at all times.  Prom's punishment was to be chained to a rock and get hen-pecked.  No, not by some lady with a sharp tongue, by an eagle with a sharp beak:  it dined on his liver every day, which liver then regrew overnight, to be nibbled upon next day.  For ever.
     Like Conrad said, Zeus:  not someone to mess around with.

Ouch!

     Still thinking, I remembered Tantalus, who got punished  by being chained to a rock - see a theme here, music fans? - in a pool underneath a fruit tree.  If he ducked his head to drink, the water flowed away; if he stood up to eat the fruit, the branches moved out of reach.
     Harsh stuff! I'm sure you'll agree.  Why was he punished so?  For being an ingrate: he stole nectar and ambrosia from Olympus (that is, the drink and food of the gods), as well as tattling the god's secrets.  Oh, probably the kicker, he had his son for dinner.  Not being given food, you understand, rather he was the food, in a sacred offering.  Zeus, to coin a phrase, went <ahem> canniballistic when he found out, hence the punishment, which also lead to the word "Tantalise".

Well, it could be worse, he could have an eagle going after his liver.

     As you have seen, all these chap's names end in "-Us" and they are arguably bad, which is where today's title comes from as Conrad is not bad.  Evil, quite possibly; just not bad.

Wow, after than unusually long Intro, let the motley begin!

And For Today's Coincidence -
It's a well-kept secret, which my revelations about might well earn me a visit from an eagle to dine on my liver, that there is an island on the Swale not shown on any maps, nor Google Earth, and where no boats go.  It houses an ultra-high security detention facility - a prison to you or me - with a very few select prisoners, and it is run by UNIT.  
     I know this, and the Prime Minister and leader of the Opposition, and probably CINCLANFORUK (Commander In Chief Land Forces UK), and that's it.  So the name "Swale" doesn't crop up very often.
     Except - which borough council did Conrad open post for earlier this week?
     Yes, you guessed it, Swale Borough Council.
     And what was in today's Metro?  None but this:

Ooer missus indeed

     This is really getting a bit much.  I'm getting grey hairs wondering what's going to happen next.

To Counter All That Text
Conrad, as you surely know, has given up hectoring and lambasting Facebook and Twitter over their bizarre Suggested Posts, and is consequently delighted to present this:

World War Two Quiz

     I didn't realise that there were 35 questions, but I persevered.  How did I do?

Not bad, eh?

     The question I flubbed was "How many major warships were sunk during World War Two", and the answer included U-boats, which I would challenge as "Major" warships.
     Still, 34 out of 35 - not bad, Conrad*!





* Aren't I clever

Plus And Minus

You Can't Win With Me So Don't Bother Trying
You know Conrad by now, ever ready to fly into an apoplectic rage or dissolve in shrieks of laughter, depending on his whim, and occasionally both at once over the same thing.
     Perhaps I exaggerate, yet only slightly.
     Let me list the downsides of getting a lift into work in the Murdermobile.
     1)  Too bumpy; cannot manage anything beyond a barely-legible scribble*.
     2)  No Metro; not that I read it, but it does have a Cryptic Crossword
      - and that's it.
     "Conrad!  How can you not list the balancing series of positives that must surely go with getting a chauffeur-driven ride into Manchester?" I hear you cavil.

A weasel riding a woodpecker.
You couldn't make these up, could you?

     Okay, okay <mutter grumble> ta very much Degsy**.  The good things:
     1)  Not having to rely on the witless warts who direct and drive First Bus.  Of course this leads to another downside, no material for ranting, yet on balance I still prefer the chauffeur-driven ride.
     2)  Not having to barge my way through a scrum of people who insist on standing in the narrowest part of the bus rather than go upstairs WHERE THERE ARE PLENTY OF SEATS!
     3)  Not having someone dying of infectious scrofula hacking and snorting in the seats behind you
     4)  Being able to listen to a podcast that Degsy had downloaded, "Pod Stallions", today about Godzilla and Godzilla merchandise.  The 'cast must have played for an hour without these guys repeating themselves - they covered "Frankenstein Conquers The World", "Son of Godzilla", Nick Adams, "Monster Zero", Aurora model kits, Ultraman, The Godzilla Gang, Jet Jaguar, "Godzilla Versus Megalon", an endless array of toys and toy manufacturers and a lot more besides.
     Enough Intro.  Let the motley begin!

"A Passionate Prodigality" By Guy Chapman
A splendidly-written autobiography, stylish and honest and a stern corrective to those who think war a good thing.  However, as with works written eighty or ninety years ago, some of what GC writes is obscure to the modern reader.
     Fear not!  For here is Conrad the pedantic hair-splitting lexicographer, who will illuminate you, perhaps blindingly.
     "The Quarter-to-Ten":  here Chapman refers to the 9.45" mortar, which calibre in inches suggests the pun about time.  It did not have a lot of range, as mortars tend not to, although the bomb it fired contained a colossal amount of explosives that made a very big hole indeed "big enough to bury five mules" as GC puts it.

Some hapless Germans are going to be sorry ...

     "Six-inch How firing one-oh-six": GC is at the vanguard of an advance when a German counter-attack about a thousand strong comes in, only to be absolutely shattered by British gunfire.  The Forward Observation Officer making the above comment is talking about Six-Inch Howitzers, medium artillery with longer range than normal field guns, firing shells with a 106 fuse.  This, a French invention (like the Quarter-to-ten), detonated the shell immediately it hit anything, even a grazing hit.

... very sorry ...

... very, very sorry ...

     
"Elephant Splinter Proofs": This would puzzle anyone unfamiliar with the Elephant Shelter, a kind of hut made with corrugated steel, supposedly proof against shrapnel splinters.

A home from home

Too many words!  More pictures!

Very well -
Have a screenshot of a family of ducklings getting a police escort:

     That's the Norks*** for you - tall, handsome and kind to animals.

"Reptilicus"
As mentioned on "Pod Stallions".  You may have sat down and wondered why Denmark doesn't produce monster movies the way Japan does, I know I have, and the answer is this film.  Art?

Reptilicus!  He spits green goo!

     I forget the background padding and exposition, go to IMDB if you want that, the concept boils down to a big lizard smashing up Copenhagen, dissolving people with green spit and - that's it.  Art?

Look!  Look!  A Madsen light machine gun!
Oh, and Reptilicus

     Conrad, whom we all know gets sweaty-palmed when there are light automatic weapons on the table, principally remembers this film for the incredible number of Madsen machine guns present.

See?

     More Madsens, Art, more Madsens!

Ooooh!  A positive orgy of Madsens!

     I realise this is a bit off-topic, so have a little more monster.  Art?

The Danes - tall, handsome but beastly to beasts

*  Insults like "What's the difference?" will be treated with the sneering contempt they deserve.
** The chauffeur, except don't tell him I called him that.
*** Because this is a smiley happy laughy post these particular Norks are Norwegians, not to be confused with the grumpy horrid sad North Korean Norks.