I Feel A Bit Monty

No!  I Am Not Talking Of Field Marshal Montgomery Of Alamein Fame
For his nickname was Monty.  This I acknowledge.

Another Monty

     Actually, one thing you probably don't know about his is one of his pre-North African commands, where he was in charge of the infantry element of Operation Rutter, which was a planned raid on the port of Dieppe.  He didn't like the idea, nor the planning, and recommended it be abandoned, which it was; though that most incompetent of commanders, Mountbatten, picked it up and ran with it.  Quite what would have happened to Monty if he'd still been stuck in command of that debacle Operation Jubilee is another matter.  Art?

Monty keeps his hands warm

     Ah me, that's BOOJUM! all over, isn't it?  "This is what we're not talking about -" and then proceeds to talk about it.  
     The "Monty" I refer to is in fact Monty Python, and I hesitate to even mention it, because you can guarantee that this will immediately derail the blog and have everyone out there doing various unfunny impressions - Look!  I told you, there's someone doing the Fish Dance.  YOU! CEASE THAT IMMEDIATELY! 

CAUTION!  Dancing Fish are not the same as the Fish Dance

     Here an aside.  "MacBeth" is known by cringing thespians as "The Scottish Play" because even saying the name aloud is an invitation for Fate to have a seagull drop a crab on your head, misfortunes like that.  In the same vein, there ought to be an euphemism we writers can use instead of Monty Python, so as not to encourage idiots to reminisce.  "Berman's Boa" would suit, after Monty Berman*.

My man Monty

     Where were we?  Nurse!  Bring my elixir of weael-poop coffee grounds - 
     Ah, yes!  I refer to that sketch in Berman's Boa where a Hungarian gentlemen is using a distinctly dodgy phrasebook to try and buy a parrot carrot.  O the japery!  I have an inkling of how he feels, because - Art?

     This is a recipe on the back of a packet of Buckwheat Roasted Groats, which as you can see is all in Polish**.  Your Humble Scribe, because he is nothing if not a thorough anorak, carefully translated all the ingredients and instructions from Polish to English, using Google Translate.
     Google Translate can be a bit - how shall we say? - a bit Berman's Boa.  I typed in whole sentences, because you get the most sense out of the translation that way.  Doing it a word at a time can lead to errors - I knew that the "Ciasto" or "Cake" (perhaps "Batter" would be a better word) needed a milled, ground cereal element in it, not "A glass of milk".  Doing it as a sentence yielded "A cup of flour".  You and I both recognised that "Grzybowy" means "Mushrooms" - Art?

Dammit.  Now I feel hungry.

     The thing is, I cannot get the word "mocz" to translate as anything except "Urine".  "Rinse mushrooms and urine" cannot be right, can it?  Perhaps there's a missing diacritical mark that changes the translation markedly.  Perhaps it was a joke in Polish.  Perhaps it was written by a Ruffian.  
     Hence my Monty moment.
     Motley, shall we try making these pierozki?  Yes, you need to wash your phalanges first.

How To Destroy Society With A Delay Of A Generation Or So
This presumes you don't like a certain society, or that you wish to twist it into an hideous perversion of piffledom, where port is routinely passed to the left, moustaches are not brushed, and parsnip chips are compulsory.
     I should tip the hat to associate Anthony Moran, ex-colleague over at Connexions, who is a photographer on the side.  Dunno if a photo can be gotten of the chap - 

Best I can do

     He posted a link on Facebook, explaining that he thought Your Humble Scribe might be interested, and I was.  It was a short clip from a claymation series "The Adventures of Mark Twain", and it was one of those episodes that small children (and sissy sensitive adults) should not watch.  "The Mysterious Stranger" was the title, although, frankly, "The Mysterious Strangler" would have been closer to the truth.  Art?

The Stranger

     The Stranger talks in a high-pitched monotone and creates things out of thin air, which includes an array of little clay people that his captive audience of three visiting children create for him.  Art?

The clay folk

     They bimble about, until Stranger gets both bored and annoyed with them (which takes about 15 seconds; ADHD at work here, one feels).  He warns the children aside - safety first! - and then smites the clay folk with thunderbolts and earthquakes.  Art?

     And pretty much wipes them all out; blasted, flattened or swallowed up by the ravening earth.

Dead right, children!

     Our traumatised trio beat it back to the safety of Mark's whatever-it-is, leaving Satan, who had declared itself an angel, to gradually disintegrate in the cold, lonely emptiness of infinite nothingness.
     If you Google images for this series, most of them concern this episode and why parents should not allow their little ones to watch it.

Finally -
I have had to wash my hands of the "Regiment Of Foote" rules and game, as it just wouldn't work given the basing.  However, having had a peruse of "Polemos" I recognised the ruleset I played a few years back, so I shall be using these.  All I need to do is add a single label to the back of one in every five or six units, coloured red or blue, with a letter.  Plus there is a random army generator for Large, Medium or Small armies, which randomises things.  Art?

Wow - from November 2013

     That's a little longer ago than I remember.  And those armies look to be Small, rather than the Medium ones I had my eyes on for today.  Well, we shall see what's what later today.


*  Tug of the forelock and a genuflect to Mighty Monty, who bestrode Sixties television like a cyclops colossus.  We may come back to him.
**  Because it's been imported from Poland.  Just so we're clear.