Answering A Question You Never Asked

Because Logic Get Out Of Here
Okay, I take it we're all familiar with "Doctor Who", the BBC's flagship dramatised documentary series.  As you should surely know by now, technology only caught up with real-life at the beginning of the Sixties, which is when broadcasts of the program began.
     Jump forward twenty five years and what's this?


     No!  it's not a microwave for flat food.  It is a Video Cassette Recorder, which was able to play pre-recorded tapes that were sold or rented at that time.  It was big in it's day, believe me.  Art?

The one with GIANT RATS!

     There were only a few "Doctor Who" serials available on video, and Conrad once asked Kim, who happened to be working at the BBC, why there weren't more.  She had no idea, so Your Humble Scribe did some investigating, which was not easy in the pre-internet age.
     One problem was that the actors who featured in these serials had signed contracts at least a decade before the advent of the VCR, meaning that everyone who was named in the credits had to be contacted in order to get their approval; no approval, no release.  Rumour has it that the Beeb kept trying to get approval from an elderly actor who had long since died.
     That was Problem Number One.  Prob. 2 was actually being able to lay hands on the old cans of film stock that had been used to record the programs, since the Beeb had deliberately destroyed thousands of cans of film in order to make room.  "Build more store-rooms" seems to have been beyond their grasp.
     Prob. 3 was that there might be copies held by BBC Enterprises, that arm of the Beeb which sold programs abroad, but their filing system consisted of throwing things in a skip and then stirring them with a spade.  Film reels of "Doctor Who" have been found in the cleaner's cupboards at BBC Enterprises.

BBC Enterprises: very unenterprising

     Prob. 4 was the stuffy, not to say hostile, attitude of the senior BBC staff to what they sniffily dismissed as sci-fi; as if documenting the life or death battles against sinister alien hordes was a silly fantasy!  When they realised that there was money to be made, they begrudgingly changed their attitude, a little.
    Not all was lost, either.  Some brave souls have been contacting foreign television stations in order to see if they retain copies, or the originals, of "Doctor Who" serials that were purchased back in the Sixties or early Seventies.  This is how "Tomb of the Cybermen" was discovered, in pristine condition having been sold to Hong Kong and then stored carefully afterwards.  Art?

The pant-wettingly horrifying Cybermen

     Not everyone contacted has been on-side.  "What in the name of Allah are you talking about!" was the response from Iranian state broadcasting.
     It also has to be said that a fair number of film cans were returned by ex-BBC staff members who had <ahem>  'acquired' them after shooting ended, as personal mementoes.  Thank you, O light-fingered ones.
     Inevitably there are conspiracies about this.  One person I spoke to said that there is a small group of loonwaffles who believe the BBC has every episode of every program ever made on microfilm in a secret underground vault, only awaiting the return of King Arthur to release them*.
     So there you have it.  I know you didn't ask, but BOOJUM! takes it's educational responsibilities very seriously.
     Motley!  Today we're going to discover whether that survival training course was worth the money, by hurling you naked into a swimming pool.
     No, they're not koi carp, they're piranhas.

Swim, motley, swim**!

Back To The Battle Of The River Piellorick
We have now gotten to Turn Seven.  I say "we" because Conrad is playing both Royalist and Parliamentary sides, which is no great stretch for me; it needs a bit of finesse when carrying out actions that need to be kept secret from the other player, but I manage.  Art!

     What you can't see here are Wardlow's Dragoons after crossing the Bouelle Bridge; they got charged by Aston's Loyals, caught on the flank and were routed.  Conrad didn't realise how badly disorganised a formation is after crossing a bridge, so I think Essex's Foote brigade will keep a-marching until they reach the open ground west of the Piellorick River.  Meanwhile the Royalist baggage train is having trouble getting out of their encampment in Upper Gullette, thanks to being so close together amongst the hovels.  Art?

     They now have to choose whether to shift the wagons or take on the Roundheads, as they don't have enough Tempo Points to do both.
     Also, I'm pretty sure this is the first ever outing for my 6mm scale windmill.  I don't care if it's the wrong design, it's staying!

Lykke Til!
Which almost exhausts my knowledge of Norwegian.  Whilst watching Episode 6 of "Ragnarok" Your Humble Scribe discovered that 17th May is Constitution Day in Norway, where the Norks celebrate Norway becoming an independent kingdom as of 1814.  There are lots of parades and marches, principally of children, and people wear traditional costume, wave Norwegian flags and generally enjoy themselves.  Military participation is deliberately restricted to a few marching bands, as the Norks have never felt a need to go out and conquer the world.  Art!

Obviously not the 2020 event

     Sons (and daughters) of the Norwegian diaspora across the world tend to get together on Constitution Day and eat traditional Nork food, including the legendary Lutefisk, which Conrad is going to try one of these days.  When I get to Oslo.

Finally -
I need to go get some tea, so I don't have time or the space to do justice to one of the barmiest crackpot conspiracy theories I've come across recently, so I shall just tease you with the title: "The LUCIFER Telescope Conspiracy", and then refer once more to that staggeringly insane one we've used as a benchmark of Stupid: "Finland Does Not Exist, It Never Has, It's All A Conspiracy To Sell Fish".  Art?

Residents of Helsinki were bemused to be told they are completely fictional.

*  I think.  This is me reading between the gaps.
**  Don't worry, motley's taste horrid