Vikings!

Just Not How You Expected Them
I know what you're thinking, and yes, I have read that article on the Beeb's website about a Viking skeleton being found in Prague.  We'll get to that later.
     First, an aside.  I am typing these lines shortly before dashing off to Pub Quiz, which I missed last week; my partners were off in London visiting their offspring, prefatory to actually moving down South permanently.  Eek!

The South

   Back to Mars!  I know we hadn't actually mentioned it, just nod and agree with me, it'll be easier.
     Okay, so there was Viking 1 and then Viking 2, a progression that is easy to follow; these were robot probes sent to Mars, intended to have both an orbital and ground component, their major aim to see if there was, indeed, Life On Mars.

One of the Big Questions

     They were outstandingly successful missions, and much of what we knew about the Red Planet came from their data, for over two decades.  One thing they did not resolve, however, was the issue of LOM, because they couldn't work out if there had been LOM, historically.  By which we mean going back millions of years, not merely last weekend.  In fact I think it's about time we had a picture of these mechanisms.  Art?

     There you go - the whole package in orbit and the lander as deployed on the sunny sands of Chryse Planitia ("Golden Sands" dammit no getting away from them Greeks, is there?).  The Ruffians must have been grinding their teeth and sticking their hands in their pockets at this point, as they had landed a probe on Mars 5 years before - which only broadcast for 15 seconds before dying.  So, well done South Canada! - they dared only say to themselves.  And now for a panorama of Mars -

Uncle Sam's on Mars*!

      So there you go, a whole lot of Viking without a single horned helmet to be seen.
     Don't worry, Tim Curry, we shall be returning to this topic again.
     Okay, motley, let's roar off into the sunset down Thunder Road**!

The Awful Saga Of Dinky-Dum, Part 2
Okay ladies, and gentlemen, and those unsure, I shall regale you with more torrid doggerel - you'll see how clever that was shortly - in a bit of a pome I composed whilst waiting at the bus stop.  You know Conrad, his mind never stops working, and surprises even him with what it generates.  Thus -

There’s an Alsatian lives down at the station,

And his name is Dinky Dum.

He’s in a state of permanent vicious agitation –

He really is a one!

So, the station’s vet decided to load him to the gills

On tranquilising, pacifying, happy-happy pills.

     There is yet more to come in the Awful Saga Of Dinky Dum, I promise you. Now, do you see how very clever I was with "Doggerel"?  <stands back to bask in adulation, gets none, sulks).

Oh, he's such a one!
(runs)

     I'm not altogether sure I ever put up Part 1 of this saga, so perhaps we're coming to it halfway through the story, which is excellent practice for your brain and a convenient excuse for me.

This will all make sense on Facebook, honest-

A load of bars

"British Armour In The Normandy Campaign" By Professor John BuckleyI have finally finished this work, within a couple of weeks of buying it, as opposed to the online PDF version which I must have started three times without getting past the first chapter; proof, were it needed, that a real proper book made from paper and ink triumphs o'er the insubstantial fol-de-rol of the Kindle and all it's ilk***.

The Prof to port; some whippersnapper at starboard

     Ol' John makes a number of salient, well-researched points that refute a lot of the journalistic, anecdotal and unfounded perceptions about the Normandy campaign.  Were I to detail these, we'd be here until Monday, so I shall skate lightly over a single topic - at least for today.  He does go into "Tigerphobia", that belief which the Anglo-Canadians held that every Teuton tank around the corner was a Tiger, despite there only ever being 120 in theatre at any one time.  Art?

A Tiger

     As he points out, the humble Panzer Mark IV (which was only barely on a par with  Allied tanks) was often mistaken for the Tiger, thanks to the similar boxy shape and spaced turret armour.  Art!

A Mark IV

     There were about 1,200 of these models in Normandy, so you can do the statistics yourself, I've got my lunch to eat so you can see Allied tankers were 10 times more likely to bump into one of these than a Tiger.
     Then there is the Sturmgeschutz III - but perhaps tomorrow, as I don't want you to get glassy-eyed over so much TANK: I can cope but your pathetic human physiology may not.
Once again, this will make sense once it gets up on Facebook, honestly. Art?

The keyboard player from Genesis

     Okay, okay - that's Tony Banks, with his keyboard ranks.  I suppose you could call them "Manuals" as some are bound to be organs.  NO SNIGGERING AT THE BACK THERE!
Back To Jack
I didn't go into this yesteryon, though it's relevant as a character reference when we consider the nature, personality and behaviour of - Samurai Jack.  Yes, him again.  If you don't like him THEN THE EXIT DOOR IS THAT WAY!
     <Ahem - pauses to let blood pressure drop>
     Let me introduce the White Wolf.  Art?

Jack and the WW

      The WW has just won a battle against three gigantic green were-tigers - see what I did th - oh you do - and has been badly scarred; just as Jack has barely escaped from the sinister seven stalkers, badly injured also.
     Surprisingly, perhaps, the two hit it off immediately.  Jack is obviously no threat the the WW due to his condition, and the WW is too injured to be a bother to him.  They both look after each other as they heal, thus creating a symbolic bond between these two lone and honourable hunters -
     I could make a Master's thesis out of this series!  And if you are unlucky, I shall do just that.

He's looking at YOU

*  I nicked this from Hawkwind
**  Okay, okay, it's only Neasden High Street.  It's the thought that counts.
***  "Kill the Kindle - buy a book!" - as seen on Church Street Market's bookshop/stall