The Cranes Are Spying

To Truly Understand This, A Little Background Is Needed
You know Conrad: any opportunity to prevaricate, procrastinate and postulate is there to be grabbed with both sets of phalanges, and this is no exception.*
     Okay, you may be aware that the Sinister Union suffered quite a lot in the Second Unpleasantness, a fact they never ceased to beat over the head of anyone daft enough to listen.  You can over-egg the pudding, chaps.

A Ruffian desert entitled "Pashka".

     Anyway, one of their iconic post-war fillums was entitled "The Cranes Are Flying", being a rather sombre meditation upon the consequences of The Great Patriotic War.  Art?

Well, they're not swimming, are they?

     Now that we have that established, let us immediately spring to the present day and Your Humble Scribe's vantage point from atop the Dark Tower.  Art?

Thus

 

     Gloomy vista, isn't it?  And, for this time of year, this is a good day.  Darkness at noon, indeed.**
     To spare your vision, let me tally that lot for you.  There are fourteen jib cranes here present, with what people are supposed to believe are red warning lights glinting away for the benefit of low-flying aircraft.  Well, they're not warning lights.
     They are EYES.  Sinister, alien, watchful, glinting, malicious orbs.
     For yes, job cranes are actually alien spies in disguise (and I should know). 

A little more subtle than these idiots ...

     I think you can see where I'm going with this.  Let me break down that assertion for you.
     1)  Nobody ever sees a jib crane arrive on site in sections.
     2)  Nobody ever sees them being assembled.***
     3)  Nobody ever sees them being dis-assembled.
     4)  Therefore, aliens.

Know your enemy!

     Obviously a few tower cranes are the real thing, but I think you'll find that the majority are these alien spies, blending in by hiding in plain sight.
     There you have today's title.      Just to mess with it's head, today we're going to give the motley porridge and toast for breakfast, along with some of my precious rationed Darjeeling tea.  Psychological warfare, don't you know.

The Queen of teas.

Now Let's Talk Of Wrecking
No, this is not part of a theme based around construction and destruction, though you may be forgiven for thinking so.  After all, it's not a long reach to go from a tower crane to a wrecking ball, is it?

Hopefully, Miley Cyrus fell off in there

     But no!  For the particular iteration of Wrecking we focus on today is The Wrecking Crew.  I have mentioned them before, though a recap won't hurt.  They were an assembly of extremely talented session musicians, principally used by Mister Hairstyle Courtesy Of Fingers In Plug Socket himself - Art?


Phil Spector

     Amongst their number were Glen Campbell and Carol Reed, two names you will know better than that of drummer Hal Blaine, who recently shuffled off this mortal coil, although at 90 he'd had a good innings (or whatever the South Canadian equivalent in their sports happens to be).  He it was who coined the name "The Wrecking Crew", because they rapidly made an impact on the rather stultified and fuddy-duddy music scene.  If you ever heard a popular music song from the Sixties - absolutely any of them - then you have heard TWC in action.

Look at them - nihilistic!  Anarchistic!  Eukaryotic!

     At the time they went completely unremarked by You, The Public; this is partly why some went on to solo careers.  Now they are recognised for what they are worth.
How To Crane Your Dragon
There wasn't enough here to justify a blog title for today, so it's just an item. 
     For, once your Dragon has splashed down in the Pacific, you need to get it out of the nasty corrosive briny deeps.  To do this you need -

More cranes

     There will be some pedantic hair-splitters out there (splendid role models one and all!) who will point out that this is actually a derrick, since it is mounted on a ship.  Conrad responds as he does to all such challenges - whose blog is it?
     Oh, and it looks as if Spacex will be re-using their Dragon capsules.

Erk.

     Hmmm.  What was that Neil Armstrong quote about sitting in a Saturn V ready to launch - something along the lines that " - you realise you're sitting amidst millions of dollars-worth of equipment supplied by the lowest bidder".  Yes, Neil, but your stuff was at least fresh.

Good?  Bad? Only You Can Tell!
I have to say that those baked beans which Wonder Wifey alleges poisoned her, were perfectly edible the night before, when Your Humble Scribe had plenty of them out of the very same tub.

Practically fresh!

     Of course, I distinctly recall Francine a long  time back at Connexions asking the question "Rob -" (my Sunday-best first name) " - how are you still alive?"
     I refer you to this item's title ...

How Very Disturbing
Yeah, all those replica trench structures and bomb shelters and bunkers at Staffordshire Regimental Museum, and all Your Humble Scribe could think about as he ducked into each - for he is a great big fellow - was "Are there spiders?"

To Conrad, every spider is this big.  If not bigger.

     Anyway, this has nothing to do with what I really wanted to talk about, which was inspired by "Perturbate" below.
     "Where does "Perturb" come from in the first place?" I mused - silently, for t'would not do to worry colleagues at work.
     Inevitably, it has Latin roots.  Yes, Latin, the zombie language - dead but it won't lie down.  Okay, there's the Latin "Per" for "Whole or completely" and "Turbare" for "Disturb", which were conjoined to form "Perturbare" and thus to Middle French and "Pertourbur" and then to that word we know and love so well today.

   
                                                   A couple of perturbations for you.
                                                             I assure you, those drivers are highly perturbed.

*  I would have added "perturbate" were it not for your dirty minds.
**  Arthur Koestler reference for you there.
***  I would have used "erected" if not for your dirty minds.