Let us try. Nope.
Well, for one thing, I think the practice of using Sunday's second post to list links to previous blog entries for the same date going back to 2013 - when BOOJUM! began - is a winner. For one thing, it means spending only 10 minutes creating a post, instead of an hour and a quarter. This means being able to watch lots more "Umbrella Academy", which I have done. After all, it's not as if you need to pay to read this scrivel, is it*?
Right! Shortest Intro ever. And the Motley is off at the cinema, before you ask.
Big Ticket Items
As you no doubt recall, Conrad was reviewing the Irish Air Corps yesteryon. Given that the most the Republic needs fear in terms of invasion is British squaddies driving over the border by accident, their Air Corps is no more than some propeller-driven trainers armed with machine guns and rockets. Art?
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| The terror of the skies. |
However, Tsar Putin has been taunting the Republic with his long-range reconnaissance aircraft, which regularly tool around Irish airspace until chased away by the Brylcreem boys of the RAF. This cannot be much fun for the Irish and there is talk of acquiring modern jet aircraft that can do the chasing away of the Ruffians.
Well, that would necessitate building an air force from scratch, which would take time, and it wouldn't come cheap, either. I saw this as an item on the "Forbes" website and they reckon Eire would need 16 aircraft with three pilots per aircraft. They even suggested a Swedish jet, the Saab Gripen. Art?
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| Reasonably-priced terror in the skies |
Since these come in at £20 million for the cheap version - which is a bargain for a modern jet fighter, honestly - that's £320 million for starters. Those pilots need recruiting, training and paying. You'd need to construct special runways for them, because they require a lot more room than turboprop trainers. They require extensive maintenance, which means a lot of technical support personnel and spare parts. To be effective, you'd need an extensive radar network. Because by now the cost has gone up to about £500 million, you'd need anti-aircraft systems, gun and missile both, to defend their airfield, and these costly big ticket items.
Conrad, ever ready with guidance and advice, reckons that the cheaper option would be to build the radar network alone and have a secret agreement with This Sceptred Isle, allowing the Brylcreem boys to go shoo away them nasty Ruffians.
| "Dammit, Conrad, do you have to keep interfering!" |
O Marketa!
Let us move on from scurrilous politico-military entanglements and instead look at what unusual Czech words our favourite babe from Bohemia has to recommend. Marketa? What do you have for us today?
"Vykani": the formal way of saying "You".
O.
Well, that's a bit dull, to be honest. Hmmmm - hang on, hang on -
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| Close enough |
So, if Your Humble Scribe were to fall ill with a cough and used this, it would be Vicks and I, which is again close enough.
Back To Mars
For Lo! we are back with the Perseverance mission. As you recall, this is a multi-stage mission spread out over 10 years, with the Martian rover Perseverance going first. This will tool around a specific crater on Mars, collecting and depositing soil samples. Along comes the next rover, which will collect all the sample containers. Art?
As you can see, 5 years have now passed since the launch of Perseverance. The Fetch rover will take the samples to this soft-landed rocketry platform (seen above), to be loaded into the Mars Ascent Vehicle - essentially a small rocket - which will carry them into orbit.
Oh, one thing I overlooked is hidden in the belly of the beast, which is to say the Perseverance rover; it carries a flying drone inside it. Art?
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| The 'Ingenuity' drone, with mighty Perseverance for scale |
It's very small and light, which it needs to be, as the Martian atmosphere is extremely thin; think as thin as at the top of Everest and you're beginning to approach how thin it is. Ergo, the drone needs to be very light, and those propeller blades need to whiz around at very high speed. Doubtless it's been tested in Mars-like conditions in labs on Earth, but a lab on Earth is not Mars, and how it behaves in real life remains to be seen.
Exciting times!
From The Sublime To The Ridiculous
Okay, we all know that Conrad has a mind like a skip (or a "dumpster" for our South Canadian readers**) so I really don't know why "Mister Frosty" came to the surface of the festering sea of scummy sewage that - actually that sounds quite disgusting, ignore it. Art?
Behold Mister Frosty in all his horrid Eighties splendour. Conrad never had one of these as an infant and doesn't feel any the worse for this omission. He does note that the reviews of those who purchased it were less than stellar; it's pretty flimsy, so it wouldn't last long. The force required to generate a thimbleful of crushed ice meant an adult had to do it, and the whole process took ages.
It would probably be used several times on Christmas Day, once on Boxing Day and would then be forgotten until that cubbyhole under the stairs was cleaned out and - there's Mister Frosty, covered in cobwebs and hastily thrown in the bin.
Finally -
Will man's sun ever shine? pondered The Guardian back in the Eighties. Well, do you know, it's entirely possible that it will, within the next decade. I shall leave you with this enigmatic finish, enlightening you only with the word "Tokamak", which is nothing to do with the Tik Tok furore of late.
Tot Siens!
* A Comment or two wouldn't hurt, either.
** Both of them! <the horrid truth courtesy Mister Hand>
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