I'm Tapping My Fingers Impatiently Here
Just waiting for some buffoon to jump in and say "It should be 'plain' not 'main' ", at which point I will push the Thermonuclear Distant Destructor button and the world will be one buffoon better off.
Yes it is supposed to be 'Main'! What do you think the term "The Spanish Main" refers to? A jam sandwich? An overclocked Intel motherboard with added heat-sink? Three vampire chickens a-sitting in their coop? It refers to the sea.
"Thalassa, thalassa!" as it was in ancient Greek. "The sea, the sea!" as expostulated by the survivor's of Xenophon's epic journey across hostile Persia, when they reached the shores of the Black Sea. They knew they could travel west, reach Greek-settled cities and thus get back home.
That was an aside, in case you didn't realise.
For tonight we are going to look at those Sinister spy-ships that still trawl the waters of the North Atlantic, looking <ahem> fishy*. O except that now they're Ruffians, officially, although Tsar Putin probably still thinks in terms of The Sinister Union (he's a bit of a dinosaur like that).
As you may recall, the Sinisters were incorrigible nosy-parkers and wished to stick their long electronic snouts everywhere they ought not to have gone. This included having a Sinister "trawler" sitting in the Atlantic Ocean off the west coast of Scotland to spy on the British and South Canadian submarines. Art!
They were a bit of a joke, to be honest. Festooned with antennae and aerials and radar, they never had any nets, nor did they ever move from one spot to do any fishing. The crews had to endure a months-long tour of duty, which must have been stunningly dull; although they would have had access to British and Irish television stations, IF their political party members aboard would allow such decadent Western rubbish to be seen.
They may not have know what a standing joke they were in the West, as it got to the point where you could purchase a "Russian Spy Trawler" in kit form, in order to have it shadow your NATO fleet on exercise. I kid you not. Art?
There you go, an exploration of a Cold War legacy not yet gone away. One of the questions about a RST was what they had beneath the waterline, so - we need to drag someone underneath that trawler in the harbour - O and here's the Motley!
Art!
O Dear
Conrad is not sure if he's bored you with the details again or not, so here goes anyway. I have returned to the Great War Forum, a kind of sideshoot of that incredibly valuable resource "The Long, Long Trail" as run by Chris Baker. If you have any question about The First Unpleasantness, there will be an expert on the GWF with an answer, often several. So. Someone has been asking a question on Twitter about Michelin Guides to FWW battlefields, and I checked responses before throwing in advice about contacting TGWF. Art!
As to be expected, one of the GWF members posted a list of these works that had been asked for, and also said that most were available to view for free in the Archives.
Great.
Another probable source of my time being eaten up. And of course the question then arises, O I wonder how much the originals cost? <wallet squeaks in anguish> Be strong, Conrad. Avoid the Archive**!
Consistency
There are several things about the Universe that remain constant: the charge value of an electron, the fusion process in stars, and how stupid Hom. Sap. can be. What's the highest mountain in the UK? Ben Nevis. Where is it? Scotland. Where do you get the worst weather imaginable in This Sceptred Isle? The Scottish mountains. What essential items do you need for climbing Ben Nevis? Stout walking shoes and a map. Torches, water, gloves, waterproof clothing - all good. Art?
That torchless gonk on the ground is one of a group of four who suddenly decided, on a whim, to climb Ben Nevis in a blizzard. In trainers. With no map. Or torches. At minus 200C.
They were so incompetent, in fact, that they got split up and had to be rescued individually. For yes, they were all rescued. And, presumably, severely chastised for being such colossal buffoons.
"Wobblies In The Moon"
Yesterday's usage of a Thrilling Wonder Stories cover had this bizarre title as one of the stories within. Conrad speculated briefly on what it might be about, before cheating and looking the title up on Google.
Surprise! It was written by Frank Belknap Long, an author Conrad had actually heard of, and I think I'd read "The Hounds Of Tindalos" short story of his. He was a good mate of H.P. Lovecraft and had a very long literary career, being widely published in different genres. Art?
It also looks as if WITM might be out of copyright and thus free to read GREAT another thing to delay my plotting! Dammit this world's not going to get taken over if I'm continually diverted <goes off muttering>
CAUTION! Do not pet!
Finally -
Sadly Conrad cannot taunt Wonder Wifey about his impressively long and warm Birthday scarf any more, since she now has one of her own. Of course she didn't wait until her birthday to tear the wrapping off, which was entirely to be expected.
Conrad did wonder about the origin of "Taunt" and thought there was a French ring to it.
Correct! My Collins Concise explains it comes from sixteenth-century France, and the phrase "tant pour tant", meaning "like for like". If you say so, Collins, but Your Humble Scribe endured some pretty hostile and covetous stares from Wonder Wifey, so "like" might not be the most accurate word.
And with that, we are done!
* Sorry.
** For now. A quick peek later one can't possibly do any harm, can it?
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