Conrad, Contorted

Your Humble Scribe -
Is both Dogsitting  and awaiting a customer, so I am pretty much restricted to The Mansion's lounge, which is probably enough scene-setting to be going on with.  Domestic details and all that.
     However, I didn't plonk my laptop down fast enough, meaning that Edna now has pole position.  Art?

     This means I now have to twist my torso across at an angle of 45 degrees to the keyboard, creating lots of typos along the way - that "fast" above originally came out as "fart" which is hilarious yet senseless.*  I know, I know, I could just shove Edna off my lap and I don't because - er - because - give me a second here - she covers up a messy stain that's lying there.
     Nor is that all.  I am also watching Season Three of "Stranger Things", which I've uncharacteristically not looked up the episode guide for, so it's all new and - the relevant bit - rather distracting.
     At this point in the Intro I'd usually subject the motley to a bit of entertaining and amusing torment, which is no longer possible thanks to that injunction the World Council of Motleys imposed earlier this week.  So I can only imagine it going through an industrial fish-flensing machine.
     Now, let the scrivel begin!

How I'd like to see the World Council of Motleys

Not Exactly Lying -
But probably classed as "At Least A Tad Deceitful".  Conrad purchased a can of beer that was going cheap, which he'd never heard of before.  It might have been horrid, a chance I was willing to take because - cheap!  Art?

     This carbonated swill calls itself "Aegir" and don't carp about me not merging the "A" and "E" because this keyboard only works in English.  The thing that stands out is the "India Pale Ale" bit, which is an historical story in itself - ale was exported from England to India and the long sea voyage enabled it to mature considerably en route, to the delight and delectation of those on the subcontinent who liked their ales.
     Anyway, what is considerably less prominent is the diddy little Norwegian flag, as this beverage hails from Norway.  Obviously.  If it came from Slovenia, the Norwegian flag would be an abberation.
     My question is, when did Norway ever have much of an export trade to India?  Hmmmm?
     It was pretty nice stuff, as a matter of fact.  Which makes getting it at a reduced price all the sweeter.

Norway: picturesque though expensive

     Excuse me, that Darjeeling will have brewed by now, so I'm off to get a cup.  Back in five.

"Pusillanimous"
Another of those words that just bob to the surface of Your Humble Scribe's septic sewage sump of a mind, for no good reason.  I was pondering in the kitchen whilst pouring out my cup of (loose-leaf) Darjeeling as to the spelling, and whether it was a double or single "S", going for the single, and I was right.
     I had the notion that it meant "to be hesitant", which was close enough - "Cowardly, lacking in courage or determination" states Wiki - I'm downstairs out of reach of my Concise Collins, or I'd be referring to that.

The very definition of Pusillanimity**

     "O where does it come from, Conrad?  Tell us, for we are eager to know!" I hear you quiver.  I thought you'd never ask -
     From Latin, of course.  "Pusillus", meaning "Very Small", and "Animus", meaning "Mind".  Though when you put them together it sounds more as if you're insulting someone's intellect rather than their bravery.

The Opposite Of Pusillanimous
A case of serendipity, really.  I snaffled these pictures from the BBC website because I can, and they kind of struck a cord.  Or a chord.  Or both.  Art?  A little help here -

Looks similar to an F1 driver's rig, yes?  NO!

     This is Paola, from Columbia, whose day job is to go out and find land-mines, and then to neutralise them.  Note that caption in the last photo - "It was very risky -" which is rather underselling things.  The FARC guerillas who put these minefields down were sloppy about keeping records of what was laid where and when, meaning that the term "field" is only an approximation.  Some of this ordnance has been buried for decades, meaning that it is corroded to heck, and the original explosive filling has probably deteriorated into unstable and volatile breakdown products.  That can go off if you sneeze on them.  
     So, you either shatter the mine apart with a controlled explosive charge, or you use a pyrotechnic cutting flare on them, which will burn through the casing and then the explosive filling.  Like the 'Fire Ant'.  Art?

Sic

     You may not like your job all that much; how would you like Paola's?  At the end of the day she can go home knowing that the world is a safer place thanks to her grit.  Three cheers for Paola and her kin!

Faked Pusillanimity
Yes, we are back to Area 51 again, and the combined forces of all the security devices - that we know of.  I did rather unkindly suggest that the 100 remaining (sweaty, footsore and paranoid) couch-potatoes out of the 2,000,000 who claimed that they'd storm the base would have trouble getting to within eyesight of Nellis AFB, and that's because the way in is covered by cameras, with an infra-red function so that they can pick you up at night.  In fact, you'd probably stand out even better at night as a heat source, as the desert has cooled down.

Smile!  You're on camera!

     Then there are the motion detectors.  These things will probably be tuned to pick up only objects larger than a marmoset, so they're not triggered by wildlife all the time.  Thing is, they're buried, so you'll never know they're there, until suddenly a white ATV full of The Camo Guys shows up and there's a whole lot of guns pointing at you.

This kind of gizmo

     Conrad is pretty sure The Camo Guys have camera drones that can either patrol or swoop to surveil any suspicious movement; they won't admit to this, of course.  And since the whole area is a no-fly zone for drones, they probably have some armed ones for intercepting nosey parkers.  Admittedly this is conjecture, but - come on!  We're talking about a base that tests and develops top secret flying things; if Area 51 doesn't have armed drones then nobody has!

Smaller than this, Art!

*  Kind of like the entirety of BOOJUM! <once again the unpalatable truth provided by Mister Hand!>
**  I don't see Mister Hand interjecting to hilarious effect here.  Hypocrite.