Mendacious Yet Efficacious

That's Me!!
And no, I'm not going to explain it.  Go use a dictionary.
     I am now going to do something which is rare for BOOJUM! - no I am not going to dance and film it to put up on the blog! - which is to talk about work.  SIT BACK DOWN!  It is interesting, and it won't take long.
     Okay, the adventure begins before I even enter the Dark Tower.  Art?

The Dark Tower: Mordor's premier shopping experience!

     You see, I'd lost my access card to get past the security gates; instead I tailgated an Arndale staff member into the lobby and rang Lee, who'd given me his mobile number, so he could come down from the Seventeenth Floor and collect me, thus ensuring the lobby didn't look untidy.  There are no Arndale staff on the lobby Saturdays, you see, not until the afternoon.
     No answer.  In fact the wretched devil-box cut off the instant it dialled.  Stupid hamster-fuelled technology!  I tried again, and again, and again - same result.

STUPID LUDDITE HAMSTER!

     Nobody around, and not likely to be for another twenty minutes, so what's a Conrad to do?  Well, hop over the security barrier, for it is low and I am tall, and there's nobody to stop me <sniggers wickedly>.  I did confess to the Arndale staff present on my way out*, and they said okay, just this once, next time stop one of the roving staff and explain to them.  Of course my innocent and sincere features helped, but you knew that already, right?

See?

     Then we are gathered together to be told that the phone lines are going to be turned off and kept off, that we may better do naught but input forms, which is great for us  - no interruptions means being ever so productive.  In fact we did so well that the senior managers laid on a buffet tea with whatever drinks we requested - result!  They couldn't get Old Speckled Hen so I had a Doom Bar instead, which was quite the acceptable substitute.  As you know, Your Humble Scribe cordially detests working his one Saturday in three, but this one was jolly satisfying.
     Mind you, given that it can take a month for the Arndale security card to arrive, I may be hopping that security barrier accosting a member of the Arndale staff again.
     There you go, that fascinating double anecdote didn't take too long to relate, did it?  And while you were reading it the motley was peeling potatoes for some mash.  Thank you, motley, have a sugar-free Werther's.

Nope.  Playing dead won't save you.

What A "Jock Column" Is, And What It Is Not
Lest you be South Canadian and reading this, in which case you would be forgiven for thinking it to be some steroid-guzzling pumped-up semi-literate sports author, who overuses the exclamation mark and insists on calling what is plainly rugby, "Football".
     So.  Meet Brigadier-General "Jock" Campbell, VC.  Art?

The Brig in question

     I don't have to tell you that a VC is not something given away in packets of cereal, nor that it is surpassingly rare for a general to win one - but that's not the point.
     In 1941 and the deserts of North Africa, the fortunes of the Eighth Army were at a low ebb, with the Axis doing very nicely, ta very much.  Jock had the idea of forming small units consisting of a company of lorried infantry (about 150 men), a battery of artillery (from 4 to 6 guns), a battery of anti-aircraft guns, a couple of armoured cars and some Royal Engineers (to lay or lift minefields).

The ugly but indestructible Marmon Herrington AC

     The idea was that these columns would wage a piratical war in the sea of sand, picking on anything smaller or weaker than themselves, which they did very successfully in 1941.  They were never big or powerful enough to do significant damage at any single point, but there were so many of them causing so much mischief over such a wide area that they sent the Axis into a tizzy**.
     Well, we've only just begun the story of the Jock Columns and it's already time to stop.

     Hmmm.  Something is afoot.  An ambulance, lights flashing, drove onto Tandle Hill Road a short while ago.  Shortly followed by two "Incident Support Vehicle"s.

Now For Some Arty Stuff
You see how classy I can be?  "Stuff" and not "Shizzle"?  
     As you ought to know by now, Conrad likes books.  Oh yes it's so, Adrienne Barbeau.  Also, he keeps abreast of world affairs by regularly perusing the BBC website, as it is "The font of all that's fit to be writ".  Thus his interest could not fail to be piqued by the headline "The Novels That Shaped Our World" followed by 100 titles which popped up on the Beeb's pages a couple of days ago.  They asked a panel to identify 100 novels written in English over the past 300 years that have gone beyond merely being "A book".

The panel responsible

     Okay, I've bookmarked the page to ensure it doesn't vanish into the mists of time as Beeb pages of interest are apt to do.
     " - are apt to do." isn't that classy in it's own right***?
     Anyway, the first section ("Identity") has some novels and authors I recognise, but I've not read any of them.  I shall sit down and ponder upon this, and may get round to one or two.

This is one.  Conrad unsure.  Since when were dentists interesting?

     You'd better believe I'm going to exploit this resource for simply days to come.  Have no doubt, Bill Armintrout.

Finally -
I was going to drive down to Royton and get some practice in the new Wonderwagon, except it's gone off to Rochdale, so I shall be doing my usual stroll on down. Note that the sun has now gone in and large dark clouds are beginning to loom - lovely timing!

The rain in Spain - has emigrated to the UK

     Pip pip!

*  Where were you eight hours ago?
**  Hard to translate the idiom, but generally not a good state of affairs
***  Beware!  Beware!  Conrad looking for literary praise! <the horrid truth courtesy Mister Hand>