Thank You Lady's Norwegian Special Forces!

I Know, I Know
Not a title you ever expected to read in English.  Well then don't be so damned Brittano-centric!  Those Marinenjaegerkommandoen put a lot of work into protecting North Sea oil rigs I'll have you know, and because Norway has Political Correctness pretty much bred into it's bones, they allow ladies to apply for these special forces units.  Art?

Lykke till!

     So the next time you go all Anthony Perkins and, whilst rubbing your hands and snickering in an evil manner, plot to attack an oil rig in the North Sea, bear these ladies in mind.

"Plan's changed.  We go for the Gulf of Mexico instead."

     And, because I'm also able to snicker evilly and rub hands - it being cold in the Upstair Lair tonight - I'm not going to clue you in about Tony Terrorist.

Red Dawn Redux
Yes, your modest artisan has more to say about this film.  Towards the end of this farrago, one feels that the screenwriter had an attack of conscience, realised what a heap of steaming rhubarb-fodder they'd created and tried to make amends.  Not only did they realise that their idol had feet of clay, all the rest of it was clay, too, and badly-cracked clay at that, overbalancing and about to fall over in a matter of minutes.  So they tried to "Retcon" it and change up a gear into a MacGuffin search.

"Conrad!  You're being so - so - harsh!"

     Recall the Nork paratroopers?  They instantly equip themselves with American military vehicles.  Where did they get those?  Are they trained in the use and maintenance of these trucks and armoured vehicles?  
     Where, come to think of it, is the National Guard?  Or the Air Force?  Or even Mister Everyday with his house crammed full of guns?

Hmmmm.

     Then we are informed that the Norks only invaded the Pacific North West.
     Ah, I see.
     No, I'm lying, actually I don't.  What about the rest of the West Coast?  "O noes the mighty fortress bastion citadel town of Spokane has been conquered!" and 100 million people collapse like a souffle in a cyclone.
     Then they start to bang on about Electromagnetic Pulse used as a weapon, at which point my Frothing Nitric Ire boiled over -
     - I shall have to go cool off and get back to you on this one.

"So - reading between the lines - you liked it?"

And Now For Music
Calming the savage breast and all that, and note that the "breast" here is the poetic one so we are still SFW.  Art?

The piano, you fool, not the slutty teen selfie-takers!

     Conrad is intrigued as to why this subject popped up on Facebook. I have nothing against pianos, although my keyboard taste runs more to the organ, harpsichord and mellotron, yet I know nothing of this "Murray Perahia" and although my life has been briefly illuminated by the above, I won't be searching through the Classical music bins at Fopp on his account.

"A Tale Of Two Cities" By Charles Dickens
I started to read this after digging it out and rescuing it from the spiders at the back of the cupboard.  A bit of a struggle; some of those spiders resemble an octopus wearing a fur coat.

If you're under a guillotine blade, "best" is probably not the word you're looking for

     And now I know where that phrase "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" comes from.  Which kind of reminds me of the beginning of "The Stars My Destination" by Alfred Bester.  

     I shall have to get back to you on this, as my copy resides beneath and behind a couple of hundred other books, and digging it out would be a major excavation of an event.  Also, it hasn't been filmed yet, which is a mixed blessing.
     Back to ATOTC, and I think I see where First Bus get their work ethic from, since the novel starts with a coach where the passengers have to get out and walk uphill.  It's a hill, you see, a freak of nature utterly unexpected in it's fantastic rarity.  Today's public transport laughs at the same, or, at the very least, snickers in an evil manner.  Although we don't have to contend with highwaymen, as do Dicken's travellers.  This is because First run such a slapdash and unreliable service that any bandit lying in wait would die of starvation or exposure long before he ever robbed a bus.

Art!  You id - actually, no, this can stay

     And that's it for tonight as I'm off to Pub Quiz shortly.