Sorry - More Sinful Pride!

On A Topical Theme, Too
But we shall come back to that.  Earlier this week - yesterday, for those keeping count - I mentioned a BBC sidebar item that I wanted to load up yet didn't have the time, the bus was due, I needed to polish my brass hand etcetera etcetera.  So you had to do with a web copy.  I have now uploaded the original.  Art?

As yesterday, the answer is "No"

      I explained the whyfor of this today, namely that any passing zombie can see inside this modern marvel, and will inevitably be drawn to any visible lights or movement.  I then explained that during the Revenant Crisis* it will be official government policy for householders to paint their lower windows over on the inside, preferably in a dark colour.  Art?

Baffled zombies
(It doesn't take much)

      Let me explain about the inverse of zombies wandering the city streets; zombies shut up indoors.  This information also explains why there is a never-ending procession of the shambling lifeless nadgers.  Okay, so millions have perished in their homes, victims of the Zombie Plague, and then reanimated.  They get up and walk around, they bimble about, and they will by the law of averages make their way to a window at some point, which has a vista that takes in the outside world.

"London property values went into free-fall during the Zombie Apocalypse.  So, a silver-lining for some."

     What do they see and hear outside but live human activity, which impels them to hurl their scabby carcasses against that very same window.  They do this for years, during which time their ceaseless physical assault, not to mention eroding wind and weather, breaks the window and out they tumble.  There you go, endless ravening hordes explained.  This process would probably be in the shape of a normal distribution curve, with the real bother occurring in Year Two and Year Three of the crisis.

Probability over time

     The sinful pride here comes from passing this data on thanks to an old MSS of mine: "Revelations", about the Revenant Apocalypse.  Really, it's a field guide on how to survive and not get eaten or transmogrified.  You may get more allusions or extracts from it in future.
     Right!  Motley, we need you to test out this shark cage - no, no, you misunderstand.  The shark goes in the cage, which has a timer that will open the door, and you have to swim to shore.  Quickly now!

Very quickly

A Fall Of Water
You may, or may not, be familiar with the Angel Falls, of Venezuala, which are 3,000 feet in height and are thus the highest waterfalls on the planet.
     Well, this planet, anyway.  Let's have a picture.  Art?

Impressive enough

      However - you knew there was going to be a "however", didn't you? - there was a water feature on Mars that dwarfs Angel Falls, since it was 12,000 feet in height.  Art?

First phase

     The first phase of this water feature being created was during one of Mars' cooler periods, when immense amounts of very deep snow lay on the ground.  The rapid onset of violent volcanic activity melted boatloads of this snow - well, more like cruise ships of snow - causing a gigantic amount of freshly-melted water to seethe over the landscape.

An example
(Sorry no puny humans present for scale)

    This pocket ocean goes plunging over the edge of a cliff edge, immediately setting a record height of 4 kilometres.  Biggest waterfall ever in the Solar System.  A perspective from further back -

      Which is an hilarious irony, considering how barren and dessicated Mars is today.  With all that prehistoric water it begs the question - was there life on Mars?

And Now On Theme
As you should surely remember by now, since you get enough reminders about it, Conrad is a true anorak when it comes to military history, and thus he eyed a BBC sidebar with interest.  

I accept your challenge!

     Oho.  Shall we begin?

Yes, I already knew about this.  The idea was to compose a montage of the enemy coastline, from Trondheim to Nice, from photographs that the public of Perfidious Albion had compiled over years and years of holidaying abroad, taking innocent snaps of their gambolling on the beaches - or so they thought.  The scope was so large because the      planners couldn't specify exactly where they were planning for.                                     

Yup, another one I already knew about.  This was the fictional 3rd Army, based in Kent and Sussex and led, nominally, by General Patton, a general the Teutons had a healthy respect for, and thus a man they would focus on.  Not only did they have inflatable tanks and landing craft and cardboard cut-out trucks and guns, they also had an army of fake radio stations giving fake orders to fake units - all of which the Teutons of course          methodically earwigged, as intended.                                                                           

Yeah yeah yeah, knew already, lots of troops, and tanks, and trucks and planes and guns.

I shall conflate these two together, as they are opposite sides of the same coin.  The Allies meteorological network had a depth that entirely outclassed the Teutons, who      relied at best on a handful of U-boats in the Atlantic sending in reports.  Thus they were completely caught out by the providential gap in bad weather.  Tee hee.                       

Yup, knew this one, too.  By this time in the war Herr Schickelgruber was a pill-popping junkie - see the very excellent "Blitzed" for an eye-opening analysis of just how many drugs he was on, which of course had an effect on his good judgement - and ability to doze off in the teeth of gigantic amphibious invasions.                                                

Yup, knew these both.  One reason the South Canadians suffered so on Omaha beach was their lack of specialised armour, such at the Flail or Bobbin, Ark or AVRE.  Their Sherman swimming tanks were launched from ridiculously far out in heavy seas, an act that            probably got the South Canadian officer responsible for the order to launch an Iron Cross, the wabheaded nadger.                                                                                                   

Conrad being an honest soul,** I have to confess I knew naught of these.  But then, they're hardly earth-shattering relevations, are they?  Bad plumbing and coquettes not being very

spy-effective.                                                                                                                  

Well, I think that's quite enough D-Day for D-Day.  Perhaps tomorrow we will discuss what they usually call "The Other D-Day".  In the meantime, keep watching the skis!***


*  "Zombie" is so loaded with value judgements and negativity
**  Sometimes <the horrid truth courtesy Mister Hand>
***  I'm not entirely sure about this; it could have been "pies".