Not Simply Us Here At BOOJUM!
Although we do like to throw shapes, toys out of the pram and a tantrum or two. Look no further than our incandescent rages about Codewords for examples that are not likely to stop any time soon. Why just yesteryon there
ANYWAY Your Humble Scribe will need to explain today's title or it's not going to be amusing to anyone. Firstly, you would need to be over 30 years old and secondly, a resident of This Sceptred Isle, to understand the context. Art!
What you might call an "Oooops!" moment, or The Perils Of Dodgy Handbrakes (which our South Canadians know, incorrectly, as the 'parking brake'). It could have been worse, there might have been a driver still in it. This is all background to the final few seconds, where we see the original driver tootling off in a brand new car of the same description, and the logo of an insurance company with the tagline - Art!
Conrad has no idea if they ("Commercial Union") are still around or not and cannot be bothered to check.
Which brings us to this year's Crisis Point, the very large wargame event as staged by Richard (Crawley), postponed from April 2020 because of Covid. The setting this year is in the fictional Woebetide Islands, an archipelago that nestles in the Indian Ocean, <coughcough> miles from Madagascar, to the <coughcough>st of that island, set in the deliberately vague 'Early Eighteenth Century'. Let us see the board before play commenced. Art!
 |
| Woebetide with puny humans for scale (From port to starboard: Phil, Ryan, Jamie, Richard C and Kev, some of whom I've not seen in years) |
Yes, that gap in the centre is deliberate, it denotes impassable mountain terrain and also allows players access to those hard-to-reach portions of the battlefield. Let's review the factions. Art!
 |
| Saint Charles, the French player's main base |
 |
| Saint James, the British player's main base |
 |
| Domicile of the Wali of Smut (local potentate of the Moghul Emperor) |
 |
| Hone of the Arab 'traders' (for which read occasional pirates and slavers) |
 |
| Danish wreck and local 'villagers'(for which read occasional slavers and pirates) |
 |
| The Woebetide natives (this is their main camp) like to keep bees. |
The ruleset being used is "Sharpe Practice" by Two Fat Lardies, whom as you may suspect have all the punning quality of BOOJUM! at it's best*. Each of the factions have various different groups within them, each of whom have different Objectives, and all are kept secret from each other. The British faction, for example, were tasked with taking a shipment of rum (many, many barrels of rum) from one of their start-points , and delivering it to the King of the Wobetideus via a cave (this will be important later on), in order to curry favour and be in his good books (and maybe get a pot or two of honey in return).
Pride of preening popinjay peacockery went to Tom, who bravely showed up in character and costume. Art!
 |
| "Arrrrrr, Jim lad!" |
We shall leave it there for the moment, because Day Two is still to be run. You'd better enjoy this stuff because there's going to be plenty of it.
Motley! Bring me a thimbleful of grog**!
"Cast Off"
No! Nothing about knitting! Dear me, one would have thought that, in a blog with islands and ships and piracy your errant mind would at least focus on matters nautical. You would still be wrongity-wrong-wrong-wrong, mind you, because that bold fuschia means it's an acknowledge entity with a publication history. Art!
Conrad is extremely suspicious about "Upcycled" Rice Krispies, whatever that euphemism means in real life. Are these Rice Krispies that didn't pass Quality Control? Are past their Sell By Date? Were extracted after use from landfills where they had been festering in milky unwholesomeness? I think we should be told for
ANYWAY it had a vaguely grapefruity taste and Your Thirsty Scribe would consider drinking it again, after sufficient time has elapsed that he can't remember what it's made from.
I Said It Would Be Important Later
And so it proves. Conrad met up with Darling Daughter at Grand Central yesteryon, after she finished work, for a refreshing pint of lemonade - due to Saturday's early and extensive driving - with the ambient noise of "Metal" playing far too loudly in the background. So we adjourned to The Rain Bar, for the first meal out Conrad has eaten in over a year. Yes, last time was with Anna - wave to the lady! - in 2020. Art!
 |
| The damosel hersel' |
So OF COURSE you have to endure a picture of our food. Art?
Then it was off to the Bridgewater Hall and a gig by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis, which had been purchased as a birthday present. No NHS Covid pass needed on entry (phew!) and the usher said that some bands don't like people taking photographs but this lot didn't mind. So!
 |
| Before performers |
 |
| A slightly closer view |
 |
| The mixing booth (I like to be thorough) |
 |
| 19:00 |
 |
| 20:00 |
We shall leave the actual music for another day, perhaps even tomorrow if you're good enough. Notice that there doesn't seem to be a particular 'type' of Nick Cave/Warren Ellis fan, except there were plenty of oldies. Not especially surprising if you take into consideration Mr. Cave has been around for about 30 years. Conrad unsure about the three small children brought in by parents, however ...
John Dykstra
There's a name you'll have seen scrolling by in the credits of a few critically- and commercially-important films, notably of the "Star Wars" stable. He is partly responsible for the special effects, most especially those involving computer control of cameras, in addition to light-sabres and space battles between fighter craft. Art!
He is also one of the founders of Lucasfilm's special-effects arm, "Industrial Light And Magic", whom any film buff will recognise. He's had a long and illustrious career, which involves being showered with awards. His surname, lest you be curious, means "One who dwells by a dyke" and originates from the Dutch.
All the same, why did his name pop up in my mind first thing in the morning?
John in his hairy scary days
* Or worst. Take your pick.
** Conrad is not exactly sure what this is, though I'm positive it was in those Hornblower novels he read as a youth. An elegant citrus cocktail as sipped delicately by officers with their little finger crooked?
No comments:
Post a Comment