Go Tell It -

On The Mountainside, Where I Awoke, And Boy, It Was Chilly
This Intro has probably confused you.  Heck, it has confused me, and I wrote it am writing it.  I refer to that pillar of modern science fiction, James Tiptree Jr., who was 1) Named after a marmalade and 2) Was actually a lady named Alice Sheldon with a proper scientific career and everything.  Art?

Thus

     I cannot possibly go into any detail about above story, as it is not only about SEX, which we here at the blog avoid for fear of - er - the police? - but also about alien races doing the hanky-panky with Hom. Sap., which is probably against some law somewhere.
     And then we have the fun part of this morning, where I attempt to reconstruct what I was blathering on about last night <thinks really hard>
     Nope.  Not a clue.  Oh  well, it was probably all lies anyway. 
     Motley!  Have a cup of tea and a biscuit. Don't flinch so - no, they're not poisoned.  Or explosive.  Or incredibly acidic.

But it is mind-bendingly, scaldingly, roastingly HOT.
(Well, a bit above lukewarm, certainly)

A Brief Aside
Really, I'll keep it short.  Just to say that as of today, I have been working for My Still Anonymous Employer - in the Dark Tower, so if you know Gomorrah-in-the-Irwell at all, then you probably know of whom I speak - for two years.
     I remember being welcomed by Gary, on a baking hot day in summer, absent the CEASELESS EVER-POUNDING RAINS, and being told "Oooh there's no chance of you being kept on after December this year -"
     Your Humble Scribe needs this job - how else would I be able to afford all those books about TANK?

The Dark Tower on a rare day without CEASELESS EVER-POUNDING RAIN

I Have Some Sand
This is the difference between then and now.  For Yes!  We are back on that wartime pamphlet, as published in 1944, when they didn't know the full facts of the case.  This is a chance for Conrad to shine shine SHINE, as he can bore for England on the Desert War, O yes.  Art?

From the second paragraph onwards

     This is a bit of special pleading and no mistake.  What they are trying to do is explain away the 8th Army's poor showing in armoured warfare.  Since the text is small, I shall paraphrase some of it.  They declare the "Honey" as not really being suitable for combat, more a reconnaissance vehicle.  This is borderline; what they neglect to say is that the Honey, or Stuart M3 - Art?

Honey, I'm home!

     - was exemplary for reliability compared to Perfidious Albion's own tanks, and that the 37mm <shudders at having to use horrid metric measurements> with APCBC ammunition came close to the British 2 pounder.
     They then go on to claim that the Teuton's Mark III and Mark IV tanks were both considerably superior to British armour, which is a load of honk.  At this point in time the Mark III had a short 50 mm gun barely better than the 2 pounder; the Mark IV had a low-velocity 75 mm gun used for firing HE rounds in support of infantry.  It might give a Honey or Crusader tank crew a nasty fright if it hit them, knock them out it would not.
     What really did in British tanks were Teuton anti-tank guns - but I don't want to bore you excessively on this subject.  We will return to it, however, O Yes indeed!

 

     This is a nicely posed shot of a Marmon-Harrington armoured car to port, and the back of a Matilda tank to starboard.  The MH was an ugly beast, but - and here is that concept again - it was utterly reliable and would keep going until Doomsday.  Not only that, it was tolerant of adding various bits of lethal kit to it.  That Vickers gun on the turret didn't come as standard, for example, some thoughtful soul added it on.

 

     I don't want to cause you an encephalo-embolism thanks to a surfeit of information about the Desert War, so we shall move on to pastures different.

"Zatoichi"
Another of those words that bubble up in the seething protoplasmic purulent seas of septic sewage that constitute my mind (and that's on a good day), for no apparent reason. 
     Okay, "Zatoichi" refers to a Japanese film and television series following the adventures of a blind swordsman, and boy, were they popular.  26 films and 100 television episodes, not a bad total.  Art?

Z

Agh!  The cursor formatting has gone potty thanks to the photos I uploaded last night.  Okay, we shall continue.  Ol' Zat pretends to be a masseur and gambler as he ambles across the land, when actually he's a deadly skilful swordsman, capable of slicing you seventeen ways to Sunday in a split-second.  Ha!  "Split-second"  Do you - O you do.  He spent three years as a gangster and killed many people, which now troubles his conscience, so he is happy to get involved with other people's troubles if he feels he can do good by them.  Aw, a chap with a conscience!  I had to buy one and get it surgically implanted.                                                                                                              

Interestingly enough, Film #19 of the original series was remade by <spits> Hollywood, as "Blind Fury" with the late, great Rutger Hauer in the lead.  I have seen most of it, since the frankly dodgy video shop I hired it from had a version that blanked out before the end. 

CAUTION!  Possesses strong comedy elements

     One day I will find out what happened, and then that video shop owner will be sorry, you'll see ...
     Well, Your Humble Scribe may have to see some of these films for themselves, not to mention the television series. If I do, I hope they're dreadful, as otherwise I shall have the dreadful burden of 26 films and 100 television programmes to watch <sad face>.      Finally
I am having to type this before lunchtime, since it seems that folk like to look at an old man's vapid ravings earlier in the day than has been my custom.  The creative process was severely impacted at 09:30 when there was a fire alert, and we all trooped down from the 17 floor, which means 34 sets of stairs.  Consequently my legs feel like someone else's and I was a good 400 words adrift.  Until now.

Chin Chin!