I'm Typing This Up On Halloween
Rather than November 1st, just so you understand where I'm coming from. You see, we have the barbed wire, which in itself puts off unwanted visitors, backed up by the Intelligent Hopping Anti-Train mines, which are frankly rubbish at blowing up human beings but which look verrrrrry threatening, what with their glowing red sensors that resemble evil eyes. The laser defence-grid is more aligned to deal with air or missile attack so it's not very visible from ground level. We do, however, have the Guard Hog and the Hard Hog (he was in "Razorback" you know, as a stunt double) and although both are essentially as tough as marshmallow, they look the part. I mean, you wouldn't ask The Stath if he was a big fat pansy, would you?
"Are you a bi -"
<loud crunching noise>
If you did I imagine your would whiz, not shuffle, off this mortal coil.
And, of course, we have The Best Policeman: rain. You don't want your expensive Halloween costume ruined by a downpour of Biblical proportions, do you? Nor be struck by lightning. The real thing, I hasten to add, and not Conrad idly chucking an empty bottle out the window.
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| Conrad: making his pictures work for it |
Since it is Halloween, Your Humble Scribe has decided that he's going to watch "Quatermass And The Pit" on his own, with the lights turned off. Art!
The television version, of course - obviously! - although since it's three hours long and I've got to be up early tomorrow, it's unclear if I'll manage to watch it all. If I start watching it whilst typing this up I'll only finish after midnight. As I jokingly remarked on Facebook, my hair is already white, it can't get any whiter*.
Okay, Motley, whilst I reside in the comfort of my Sekrit Layr, I've arranged for you to go on a hospital tour. It starts at 23:30 and the building was abandoned in 1969. You'll need stout boots, a torch and a wooden stake.
"I'm Spartacus!"
Ah yes we shall continue Roel's commentary on this film - "Spartacus", do keep up! - which we started yesteryon. If you recall, a Roman legion was about to attack the enormous rabble that constituted Sparty's army, who had a trick or two up their sleeve. Art!
"Flaming corndogs!" as Ol' Roel describes them. The idea is that these incendiary devices will seriously disrupt the Roman's formation and cohesion, and do you know what? They do. Art!
Don't worry, he's a trained stunt professional. We hope.
Ol' Roel has the temerity to laugh at this scene, but does redeem himself by wishing the stuntman well, and that he wasn't too badly crushed or toasted. Conrad suspects the Flaming Corndog is actually very lightweight, so no crushing, and that our trained professional is wearing fireproof clothing. He does mock Hollywood's endless fascination with FIRE even if he admits this scene makes sense in that you're disrupting the Roman's formation. Art!
Nope
As Roel points out, battles in the ancient world didn't happen like this, with the dead carpeting the ground. Morale would plummet if one's side were losing, and formations would break and run, which is when the really serious casualties would mount up, especially if the pursuers had cavalry, or if there was a battlefield obstruction like a river or ravine**. This holds true even today, when the pursuers have tanks and helicopters.
6/10 for effort, and Roel asks again about that poor flattened and fired stuntman.
Toad Of Toad Hall
Except not how you expected. You thought this was going to be about "The Wind In The Willows", didn't you?
WRONG!
Art, if you will -
Courtesy Vin Osbaldeston
More of derelicts. This is the last one, promise, until the BBC publishes another themed picture array. ANYWAY this is Toad Hall, a former nightclub now fallen on hard times, because it's been closed for years. The artwork on the exterior depicts the Natterjack Toad, for your elucidation. Conrad is not surprised it closed down: going for a night out at a place including "Toad" in the title is not high on my list of likes.
The Truth Will Out. But It Might Take A While
As you should surely know by now, we here at BOOJUM! tend to steer clear of politics, and I firmly deny that calling out Tsar Putin or The Only Fat Man In North Korea counts as politics - especially as it makes Dimya weep into his Stolichnya. However, this one is too amusing not to recount.
Tee hee!
Well, Mister Trump - note we do not stoop to name-calling here - has just started another ground-breaking, earth-shattering, wrist-wobbling social media platform, called something with "Truth" in the title. Art!
However.
Whoever is the technical director behind this is probably collecting their pink slip*** and last paycheck, because they didn't provide adequate firewalls or security and a bunch of Anonymous hackers wrought havoc, posting rude things that we here at BOOJUM! cannot possibly reveal. The site had to immediately ban new account holders and go offline to repair the damage.
It's not a good start, is it? There is more, which we will definitely come back to. O delicious shadenfreude! Which, I would like to point out, is entirely calorie-free, has no gluten and is fine for diabetics.
Finally -
Your Humble Scribe is on the early shifts next week - I know you thirst, positively thirst, for domestic detail like this - which is his preferred mode of employment, since nobody will pay him to drink tea and do crosswords all day long. If you know of any such employer, do let me know, won't you? I prefer it because most of the evening is still left when I get home. The downside is that on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday I shall be commuting in, which means getting up at 06:00 to be certain of reaching The Dark Tower by 08:00. I may tram it on Wednesday to get home quicker in order to do the weekly shop, as the longer you leave it the less is on the shelves, and Morrisons resembles a Sinister supermarket of the Eighties.
* I suppose it could fall out, mind.
** The Teuton's retreat at Falaise comes to mind, mind.
*** South Canadian for "You are so G**-*****d fired!"
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