Roving On The Land

NOT To Be Confused With Those "Freeman On The Land" Nutters
Whom, you will recall, are all about not having to pay taxes, get a driving licence or bother with anything that they disagree with, which is anything that takes their fancy, and there's a lot that takes their fancy.  Or, rather, doesn't.
     Here an aside.  Yes, already!  The FOTL originated in South Canada, and their pernicious influence has oozed across the border into British America, where the courts have come down with harsh judgement upon their bilious nonsense.

In a manner akin to this

     Take Russell Porisky, for example.  He ran the Paradigm Educational Group, which sold FOTL woo to many, many people, counselling them on how to avoid paying taxes, a practice that Ol' Russ was adept at.  On an income of £1,100,000 he paid no tax at all, which is why he is now in prison serving a four and a half year sentence for tax avoidance.  His FOTL rhetoric got very short shrift in court, and when he appealed he got even shorter shrift.  The FOTL movement ought to have taken notice of this: if your premier guru about FOTL gets sent to prison, what chance do they have*?
     Your Humble Scribe also notes that a lot of the bumbletucks who end up in court try to record the proceedings, so that they can boast on Youtube about how they totally owned The Man and The System, and that this being in prison for eighteen months is a ghastly mistake that will end up at the International Criminal Court just you wait and see get sent to prison for contempt of court.  Judges really, really, really do not like people illegally recording court proceedings.  Will that stop them*?
     Anyway, that's a whole lot about what this is not.  No, I was referring to the BBC's website and a photograph Your Modest Artisan immediately sussed out.  Art?

Car trouble?

     These aren't real Landrovers - see where today's title comes from? - but are in fact scale models, taken against a background that suggests off-road travel.  That's what I immediately realised, and Your Humble Scribe was born out by the item's full description.  Art?

You can't scale water!

     These photographs are the product of one Liam Cant, who began taking these photographs whilst walking his dog, to the considerable bemusement of any other dogwalkers he encountered.  Art?

Attack of the Giant Cannibal Chickens!

     That one might have given the game away, hmmm?
     What the heck, everyone needs a hobby. 
     Motley, do you feel like a stroll?

A Disturbing Essay Into Inter-Species Whatnottery
OR
A Little Musical Critique
This time, gentle reader, when you read the word "Tiger" I am not referring to the over-rated Teuton tank, but to the animal as celebrated by that poet bloke.  Oh, and Alfred Bester.  Art?

This artist knows their stuff

     And you can't complain about that title, since it is merely suggestive, not outright rude.
     Okay!  Let us now examine the lyrics to that Seventies standard by Mud, "Tiger Feet".  SIT BACK DOWN!  This will be funny, honest.

All night long, you've been looking at me

This sounds dangerously close to stalking.
Well you know you're the dance hall cutie that you love to be

This is existentialism at work, children
Oh well now, you've been laying it down

Laying what down?  A bag? a hodfull of bricks?  Two pounds of ground mince?  What!
You've got your hips swinging out of bounds

You what?  The lady involved has - dislocated her pelvis?
And I like the way you do what you're doin' to me

So far there does not seem to have been any physical interaction.  Or have I missed something?

Alright

At last.  A lyric with no ambiguity.
That's right, that's right, that's right,

I got it the first time.  And I would refer to it as "Starboard", thanks.
that's right I really love your tiger light

What on earth?  Tigers are not known as a light source.
That's neat, that's neat, that's neat,

Hang on - "Tiger"?
that's neat, I really love your tiger feet

Erk.  Is this one of those sordid "Furry" fictions?

If not and it's a real female tiger, then I know why she's eyeing you, matey.

Yeah.

     I was closer than I realised with that crack about "stalking", wasn't I?

Playing a mean guitar
(and always ate at the steak bar**)

Back To The Future
Do you see what - O you do.  Well, because I can't load up that site with the 51 greatest sci-fi novels of all time, I'm going to revert back to that BBC webpage which details 10 times science fiction predicted the future.  Today we look at -

Solar power.

     Worthy but dull.  I mean, where's the excitement, the romance, the sheer terrifying danger in a solar panel?  They have all the risk of a bowl of milk.  Now, take a barely-controlled nuclear reactor - there's excitement for you!  One cannot imagine a miniseries being made about solar panels.
     Anyway, these epitomes of ordinary were predicted in 1911, which is so ho-hum a fact that I am having to prod myself awake with a bamboo skewer.  Art?  Quickly, man, we're losing them - losing them, I tell you!

Here's a fruit-eating bat instead

     Phew, that was close.  Next!

In The Spirit Of Chinese New Year -
NO!  I'm not referring to the coronavirus outbreak that has the streets of the Populous Dictatorship eerily deserted, akin to the Zombie Apocalypse.  I do have some limits.
     No, I refer to this being the Year of the Rat in terms of the Chinese zodiac.  Art?

Frolicking rats

     Conrad has never quite understood why people express fear and loathing at the mention of "Rat", especially since they make such good pets.

Finally -
This will all make sense on Facebook, honest.  Okay, let us now depict that picturesque region of Spain known as Segovia.  Art?


Here we go.

     And there you are.  Pip pip!



*  None.  But that won't stop them.  Bafoons!
**  A little Pink Floyd reference for you there.