Hungary For Justice

We Tend Not To Cover Current Affairs Here -
And when we do, it tends, I am sure, to annoy our Ruffian readers, as they are such an easy target, what with Tsar Putin and his nostalgia for the Seventies - although that decade was probably the height of Prog Rock, so it's not all bad.

Though not all good, either ...

     Today, however, we focus on that ancient and interesting country Hungary, better known to it's residents as Magyarorszog, where they speak one of the Finno-Ugric languages and have a shared genetic heritage with the Mongols of Genghis Khan.  The only Hungarian you are likely to know is "Goulash".  You can now increase the amount of Magyar you know by 100%, as "Fo Utca" means "High Street".

La Paz, Bolivia: a very high street indeed.

     Anyway, back to today's matter of interest:  Hungary has banned rough sleepers, as reported by that fount of all that's fit for a writ, the BBC.  Art?

The sights of Budapest

     What a splendidly elegant idea!  Just think about it: you're a fearfully dishevelled wreck, dozing on a park bench, when along come the police ("Rendorseg" in Magyar) who arrest you and throw you in the clink ("Borton" in Magyar).  Problem solved!
     Of course, this then raises the issue of overcrowding in Hungarian prisons ...
     There you go, a whole intro and nary a slur against the Ruffians.*
     Okay, motley, we're going to put you inside a grand piano, and then have a hippo hop on the keys.

It did not end well.
(The hippo is okay, though)

Silverfish
Conrad is curious about this household pest, never having seen one.  One reason is possibly that there is a large dehumidifier going in my Sekrit Layr during the day, and silverfish seem to like it damp and mouldy.  They perhaps also know, in a dim, insect fashion, that should they try to dine on my books, they will die, quick smart.  Let's have a picture up.  Art?

Kind of greyish.

     Don't see where the "-fish" suffix comes in, myself.  Ah well, I wonder if there's any other reason these unpleasant little vermin don't bother me?

Gee, thanks for that, Art.

A Belated New Year's Resolution
One of my resolutions was to play more wargames.  Since 1/1/2018 I've played all of two, both over at Storrs, arranged by my mate Richard, and the second of those was back in the summer.
     Well, on Sunday night I started shifting things around in the Sekrit Layr, giving me enough room to begin the process of laying out the artefacts.  Art?

     The 'blanket' is a terrain mat supposedly reflecting desert colouring, although it more resembles - a brown blanket.  Unused for several years, we shall see if the creases can be pressed out. The brown tiles are for a game using "Square Bashing" rules from Peter Pig, where everything is done according to squares, and that last picture shows me trying to sort out what bases I need. Do I have enough?  We shall see!
     That's enough raw excitement for one day.  Don't want to overdo it.

http://www.peterpig.co.uk/index.html

     The link for Peter Pig, whose website I've not been on in years.  And, yes, continuing that theme of animals in general and pigs in particular.


I Don't Often Do This, Either -
As you should surely know by now, when BOOJUM! reviews films the one thing we avoid like a Russell Brand party invite is actually finding out what a film really is, and what it's about, and who stars in it - all that boring real-world shizzle that dull normal film critics plod through.
     Today, however, I couldn't resist after looking up the film "Hunter Killer" on IMDB after seeing posters for it.   

Hmmmm.

One can imagine the pitch session in A Major Hollywood Studio:

FRENETIC PITCHER:  It's about a hunter!  And a killer!
UNCERTAIN FILM EXEC: Er - and what's it about?
FP <frothing slightly>: Hunting!  Killing!
UFE: Ah, I see.  Hunting and killing what, exactly?
FP <eyes bulging>: People!  Ships! Helicopters! Submarines!  Bang bang shooty shooty!
UFE <checking his alarm button and how far away the door is>: And - ah - do you have any idea what the tagline might be?
FP <wipes sweaty palms on thighs>:  HUNTING AND KILLING!  Or, if you want to switch it about a bit, KILLING AND HUNTING!

I just added this to break up the text.  You may now continue.

UFE: Can, uh, can you leave a treatment with me - oh, and a plot precis, too.
FP:  That's easy - US Navy Submariners and SEALs rescue the Russian president after a rogue Russian general kidnaps him.  While it would involve extensive shooting at sea, we -
UFE:  My God, that's brilliant!  I'm going to green-light that immediately, with a two hundred and fifty million pound budget!  <picks up phone>  Hello, Steve?  Clear your diary for the next six months.  Now, we need a Brit character actor to play the villain, whoever that is - no, don't be daft, of course I haven't read the script! - so get Gary Oldman's agent, and a generic tough guy - oh, and we'll need ILM for the effects, plus an attractive but shallow actress as the love interest -

     You get the picture, and indeed you shall in the very near future.
     One potential audience who might not be chuffed to little ribbons about this are the Ruffians.  You can imagine their police and army staring moodily into their pints of vodka,** sulking at how incompetent/comic/corrupt/stupid (delete where applicable) their portrayal is, and generally being fed up that the
 South Canadians, of all people, have gallantly and efficiently saved President Nutip.

How to scare cats the Tsar Putin way!

     Of course, my Ruffian friends, you are always welcome to make your own re-imagining/homage/blatant rip-off (delete where applicable) of "Hunter Killer" ...

It's a start, I suppose.

*  Apologies for being so slack, I'll get onto that right away.
**  There you go, being horrid about Ruffians at last!