Mainly because it's shopping night tonight, and thus I shan't be sitting down to enjoy stew and lard until probably 19:30, quite beside any other calls on my time, such as hijacking trainloads of plutonium, a chore that really eats up one's spare time.
ANYWAY Conrad had one of those phrases pop up into his head, as they do from time to time, and in this case it was "Lars Porsena", which is a misnomer, because it instantly puts one in mind of tow-headed vikings skiiing down the fjord sides on an elk.
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| O what weather |
Not so! For the Lars we reference here hailed from the Italian peninsula, meaning he was very probably dark of hair and entirely unacquainted with skis.
Here an aside: I'm not doing the shopping tonight. Tomorrow instead. So I shall have to come up with a few provocative items tonight in order to begin early tomorrow, without falling back on the ever-ready option of LITHIUM WAFER BATTERY DESIGN!
Lars! Art?
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| Lars being all Porsena |
Lars was a senior figure in the heirarchy of the Etruscan city of Clusium, and thus a character with clout. Who came grovelling to him but Tarquinius Superbus, the ex-king of Rome, whom had been chucked out in a rebellion and who wanted both revenge and his throne back. The Romans, having gotten rid of a tyrant and dictator, under no circumstances wanted him back, so Lars knew if he was going to re-instatey matey, there would be blood.
This is where the gripes come in. All that is known of Lars, a figure setting out to wage war on Rome in 500 BC, comes from writers of considerably later times, such as Livy, who was writing about 25 BC. Thus we get legend substituted for fact. Art!
Allegedly, whilst Lars' army was besieging Rome, an assassin slipped into his quarters and murdered LPs faithful attendant. Once captured, the would-be killer announced he was only the first of 300 assassins sworn to extinguish Lars' life. Trying to impress, he then roasted his right hand in a handily nearby sacrificial fire as proof of his authenticity. Lars supposedly was so impressed (and scared) that he concluded a peace treaty.
Or did he? Tacitus writes that Porsena actually successfully stormed and conquered Rome, although his perspective came from about 70 AD, so even further off than Livy. Art!
Whatever the outcome, peace treaty, partial conquest or the total over-running of Rome, when Porsena departed there was no Tarquin Superbus sitting on the throne. Eventually Lars got fed up with the scrounging, plotting piker and sent him on his way, no doubt railing against the unfairness of the world. Yes, how dare people not appreciate being crushed underfoot by a dictator who murdered his way to being monarch!
Motley, do you think being wrapped in tinfoil will preserve you against being roasted in a forest fire, or would you cook like a roast chicken? Let's find out!
Counsel Cautiously Continues
For Lo! the trial of Cock Robin's killer continues, even if it is a bit of a zoo and the bailiffs have been extra-specially busy with mace and wrist-restraints. Let us not keep the Judge waiting. Do we have anyone who can notarise all the statements to date?
"Who'll be the clerk?
I, said the lark,
It it's not in the dark,
I'll be the clerk."
Ah. You are familiar with that wonder of the modern world, electricity, aren't you?
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| A metaphor for the lark. |
It Banisheth Ye Eville Shadouw, you know <heavy sigh>. Make sure, whatever you do, that it's compatible with Windows 10 and Word. I can't tell you how frustrating it is to try and open obscure Moldavian 8-bit apps dating back to the mid-Nineties.
"Who'll carry the link?
I, said the linnet,
I'll fetch it in a minute,
I'll carry the link."
Your Honour, may I petition to have that struck from the record? We don't want any of the solemn burial ceremony to end up on Youtube or Instagram, and in fact Linnet ought to be searched for portable recording equipment. O - BAILIFF! AFTER THEM!
From The Ridiculous To The Sublime
Back on the theme of "Under The Stars" again, as a quality counterpoint to our contumacious whirl of court reporting. Art!
We don't have a lot of information about this one, merely that it's by Ryan Keterrer, and is from Mount Graham in Arizona, South Canada. One wonders how long an exposure this one required, and if that's not the sun coming up or going down to starboard, then that's a seriously large amount of light pollution. That would surprise Your Humble Scribe, I always had the impression that Arizona was one of those Mostly Empty states, better known for crops of tumbleweed rather than people*.
The Civil Aviation Authority Is Very Cross
For those poor benighted unfortunates who lost the lottery in life and whom live beyond the borders of This Sceptred Isle, Conrad can tell you that the CAA deals with all aspects of the aviation industry within these lands, including safety.
Thus they are predictably aghast at those wilful eccentrics who plan to establish a magic carpet service in lieu of flying cars. You know, those FLYING CARS THAT SCIENCE LIED TO US ABOUT!
<ahem>. Art?
CAA STANDARD HEALTH AND SAFETY ASSESSMENT FOR:
Magic Flying Carpet
Dimensions: 10 ft x 5 ft x 1/4 in
Mass (unloaded): 22 pounds
Power: Unknown invocation; no details thanks to proprietary magic
Range: Infinite
Payload: Up to 2 full-grown adults massing 200 lb each
Time to effective cruising ceiling: 30 minutes
OBSERVATIONS: Inherently dangerous and unstable device, with no internal stiffening of the structure, potentially leading to extreme undulation in turbulent air. No seatbelts, hand grips, buckles, straps or restraining devices of any sort. No oxygen. No firefighting equipment. No blind landing gear. No radar. At any airspeed over 25 m.p.h. birdstrike is likely to be fatal to passengers.
CERTIFICATION: REFUSED**
Finally -
I had yet more Codeword invective to ladle out, including an observation of a new kind, except we've now hit the Compositional Ton and I'd rather reserve my righteous rancourous anger for tomorrow, because that will give me a head start before I cope with the shopping. Chin chin!
* If you are reading this and from Arizona, don't bother to correct us. We're not that bothered, ta.
** BOOJUM! - dancing on the grave of your childhood dreams.
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