NO You Assuming Asses!
Conrad, although he has returned DARPA's Telepathy Helmet, knows exactly what you're thinking right now: " What can the raddled old remora be about to unleash on the Marvel Cinematic Universe now?"
Well, not going to lie, invoking the Avengers does allow me to use one of their illustrations as click-bait. Art!
Yesteryon ought to have prepared you for this, because HA! Conrad is talking about the television series from Perfidious Albion, not the South Canadian comic book franchise. It began a long, long time ago - though still in this galaxy - as a black and white series which focussed more on Ian Hendry's character than Patrick McNee's. Art!
The initial series had the proposition of Doctor Keel (Hendry's character) trying to avenge the murder of his fiancee, aided by the sudden arrival of John Steed. This lasted for one season, after which Steed became the lead character, escorted by Doctor Martin King if only briefly, then by the wonderfully-named Venus Smith, a nightclub singer - Art?
Pondering on the vagaries of fate and fame
Then we had the arrival of the appropriately-titled Cathy Gale, who blew into the series much like a hurricane because nobody like her had been seen in staid old fuddy-duddy British television before. At least not as a heroine. She was an exceedingly tough nut, skilled in un-armed combat, able to handle a gun with ease and chose to wear leather apparel that would have been closely akin to what fetishists of the time donned. Art!
"The sear is worn, the sights are askew and the bolt has a hair-line fracture."
She was also an anthropologist, so clever too <Conrad's heart beats a little faster>*.
In all of this Mister Steed underwent a transition from being a Harry Palmer lookalike, to being the walking epitomy of Britishness. Bowler hat, umbrella, three-piece suit and carnation, representing An Un-named Branch Of British Intelligence. Or was it Counter-counter-counter Intelligence? Somesuch.
THEN! came colour and the arrival of Emma Peel, played by the positively delicious Diana Rigg, for what many consider to be the show's acme. Since this "many" includes Conrad, that's what it was. Art!
<sigh>
Also an outstanding theme tune, which never hurts a series
By this time the series had metamorphosed into what cleverer pundits than I have called "spi-fi" (alongside "The Man From U.N.C.L.E." and "Get Smart"), which teetered on the brink of self-satire until and during the last season, with Tara King. Art!
Don't ask me, I've no idea either
There you go, a whistle-stop tour of "The Avengers" as was. And you're welcome. We shan't go into "The New Avengers" because it wasn't that good, certainly not in comparison to it's predecessor, which I've already expressed as my opinion (the only one that matters here) so that's that.
Motley! Let's recreate a classic scene where Emma Peel is lying on a set of miniature train tracks, except we'll have to use the full-size version as there aren't any miniature ones round here, and there aren't any convenient small trains either, so we shall have to use real life full size ones, too. I'm sure it will be fine.
What can possibly go wrong?
WHAT!?
As you may or may not be aware, Your Humble Scribe took out a subscription to "The Daily Beast" a couple of months ago, back when they were breaking revelations about Senator Eddie Munster on a weekly basis, if not more frequently. Instantly the subscription was paid the news flow about him stopped; still, the rest of their coverage proves that South Canadian politics and politicians have not advanced one iota from when Ambrose Bierce was satirising them in the 1880s -
- which is as far as we're going into the murky turbid waters of Politics. No, what alarmed and interested Conrad in equal measures today was this. Art!
You know me, a sucker for a crossword, especially the cryptic ones, not to mention codewords. I shall have to be cautious here, as any dipping my taloned toes into word-puzzle waters may lead to a long, long detour.
Contra Mortui Viventes!
We have dealt with the Roman auxiliaries who would confront the living dead in their humungous hordes, as well as the weapons of the individual legionary. Quite besides tactics, which subject is inevitably subjective, let us look at how the Roman legion would defend itself against a mass attack of the revenant mob. Art!
This is a Roman ballista, one of their heavier weapons, which you can think of as a giant crossbow. It fired an enormous arrow capable of killing at many times the distance of a thrown javelin, out to the range of normal archers. Where it differed in use against masses of murderous meatbags is that it could quite easily smash through half a dozen in sequence, and whilst getting in a headshot was unlikely (still possible however) a hit from one of these puppies would shatter bones, tendons and muscles, rendering <ahem> to borrow a term from modern military parlance, an M-Kill. Art!
The business bit
These weapons would like back behind the Roman's front lines, possibly with a detail to guard them, and would be picking off files of revs before they got anywhere near the legionaries. Moreoever, after the battle their bolts could be re-used, as long as they got a thorough cleaning. Environmentally sound ammunition!
Okay, that's it for artillery with a relatively flat trajectory. Tomorrow we are very probably going to be examining that class with a parabolic trajectory. I bet you can hardly wait.
"It makes a hole THIS big ..."
Finally -
Not only have I not tackled any of The Daily Beast's crosswords, I've not even begun on the jigsaw-puzzle version, although more out of it's awkward size more than how cryptic the clues are. Maybe later tonight.
In the meantime, chin chin, pip pip and please leave Channel D open for Ilya.
Under The Cringing Stars
The last photo entry into the BBC's "Under The Stars" theme is rather a groan-inducing pun, that leaves the Milky Way entirely out of it and is more to do with shadow (the Latin for which is "Umbra") than light and stars. Art!
As they add in their hilarious comment, this person will be under the stars wherever they go, unless of course their umbrella is destroyed by either flamethrower or industrial car-crusher**.
* Okay, okay, so it's a fusion-powered pumping unit. Same difference.
** Remote possibilities, I grant you. Yet still faintly possible <crosses fingers>
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