The Human Truman

You'd Better Get Comfortable
As developing this is going to take some time.
     Okay, you may remember a film called "The Truman Show", wherein one Jim Carrey demonstrated his dramatic chops, playing the titular character in an extraordinarily cruel reality show.  Art?

Thus

     One does wonder just how a corporation gets away with the endless deception and manipulation of Ol' Tru, without having someone sue their bottom off - this is South Canada we are talking about, after all, and they throw lawsuits around like confetti.
     Anyway, one of the means of preventing Ol' Tru from leaving Seahaven Island is by virtue of Instant Traffic Jam.  When he gets in his car to leave town (which would be impossible as it's simply a gigantic set), there's no traffic.  Art?

Clear, no cars here

Vehicles appear

Gridlocked!

     Excuse me whilst I go put that quiche in the oven -
     Okay, now imagine Ol' Tru's frustration, and now imagine a plutonium-powered pork pie - ignore that last, merely testing - and transfer it to Conrad as he takes Edna on her walkies.  As you may have been informed, Edna in her mind is at least six feet tall at the shoulder and hates other dogs unless she knows them, which inevitably leads to snarling and barking and tugging at the lead if we do encounter other dog walkers.
     And it seems that, regardless of the weather or the time of day, we are guaranteed to meet other dog walkers.  Who knew there were dozens of dog walkers within yards of Tandle Hill Road!  

The scamp in question

     This afternoon's scenario goes: Conrad gets level with Cherry Grove, and a man comes out of there walking a small white dog.  By the time we get to the end of Tandle Hill Road's flagged right-hand side and are ready to cross over, there's now a chap getting out of a car in the end house - and he's got a dog on a lead.  Both dog walkers head towards the park, so I take the side road and we walk down there for half a mile.  Walking back up - oh what's this, a lady walking another dog, heading for the park.  Edna and I reach Tandle Hill Road again, intent on at least reaching the park gates, except no, here's that small white dog and it's owner on their way back again.  What, did he get up to the park, take a look, shrug and leave?
     Fortunately the lady with dog stops to chat with him, so - Conrad looks down the entire length of Tandle Hill Road's left-hand side - we're clear!  and we head for home.
     Except not, for as we reach the last few hundred yards, what's this but a bloke coming round the corner - with a dog.  Of course there is.  We swap sides, and - oh, what this, but a woman walking another dog just behind the bloke with a dog.
     At which Conrad's mind is full of dark imprecations.
     Bah!

As long as she's happy, hmmm?

     Let me just go check those potatoes; I don't want them to fall apart*.
     It's a sad fact that motleys are morbidly afraid of dogs, or I could get ours to perform this task.

You What?
Sometimes Hom. Sap. can be spectacularly stupid, so much above and beyond Normal Stupid that they deserve a special award.  I shall have to try and think up a name for it.
     I am talking - obviously! - about people who claim to be time travellers.  This came up in connection with a search I did about the television series "Travelers", which does not pretend to be anything other than fiction.  Art?

<imagine the sound of Conrad sneering>

     This story originated in the "Weekly World News", which is a paper that makes up stories, and the more unbelievable the better - think along the lines of "Elvis Grave Found By Hippo In Spacesuit On Moon!" and suchlike.  Then Yahoo, back when it used to be a going concern, picked the story up and published it without intimating that it was a big slice of hooey with nonsense dressing.  It then gets picked up by regular media - regular lazy media - who don't bother to source it and simply repeat it as if gospel.  It's probably still floating around teh interwebz, being quoted by swivel-eyed loons as Irrefutable Proof Of Something.
     Bah!

And yet still a cut above the "Daily Star"

I Say, Jim, Old Chap!
Out of curiosity, and because I can watch what I like at present, I tuned into a program yesterday called "Nazi War Machines: Secrets Uncovered", written and presented by the boyishly-handsome James Holland.  Art?

Jim in front of a Panzer IV

     Last night focused on the Luftwaffe, looking at some iconic Nazi aircraft, where they were innovative and radical and different, and also what egregious failings they had - and there were plenty.  For instance, and I think I've read this elsewhere, 60% of the Luftwaffe's losses came from accidents, rather than combat.  One of the reasons was that the Me109 (the Luftwaffe's staple fighter plane) was a very, very dangerous aircraft to be in when taking off; the very slightest bump would immediately throw it onto it's side, and it was after all designed as an aircraft, not an excavator.

Jim in front of an Me262

     Another reason was the lack of flying hours that apprentice pilots arrived at their operational squadrons with - 90 hours for lots of them.  Compare this with RAF and USAAF pilots with 350 hours; the difference in experience was telling.
     I can tell what your thinking: "Yes but the V2.  The V2!  The mighty V2 ballistic missile!  And the rather less glamourous V1."

Oops

     Jim points out that the Nazi V-weapon program was incredibly and staggeringly expensive, totalling more than 150% of the Manhattan Project's budget, and a sterling corrective to the Wehraboos who insist Herr Schickelgruber could have had nuclear-tipped V-weapons.  Nope, sorry.  One or the other, not both.
     Conrad's Opinion: worth a watch, even if Jim does seem to be taking over all known media (books and podcasts already, and now whole television programs).

Finally -
I thought this had some resonance.  Art?

Tee and hee

     And with that, we are done!

*  They were fine.  I knew you'd like to be kept informed.