It's Norway Or The Highway

To Adapt An Aphorism

Conrad cannot quite remember how he came to be viewing a Youtube video about the Norwegian Long Range Reconnaissance Squadron's physical entrance test, but there it is, going down a rabbit hole can lead you to emerging, blinking, into strange sunlight.  Art!

Beautifully bleak Norkland

     Behold Norway, which is mostly made up of ice, rock and mountains (they built their towns and cities on the rare flat bits).  It also shares a common border with the Ruffians, unlike any other NATO country during the Cold War.  This meant there was a risk of invasion, even if it was vanishingly small; trying to advance down a single road six feet deep in snow and with only six hours of daylight is rather a challenge.  So the Norks created the Fjernoppklaring, or Long-Range Reconnaissance Squadron, whose job is to run up and down mountains as agilely as mountain goats, whilst humping huge rucksacks bulging with weapons and equipment.  Art!

Somewhat camera-shy

     Ideally they act as sneaky-peeky troops, who avoid fighting in order to spy on the opposition.  Their physical entrance test is insanely hard, as the gallant mountaineer Magnus Midtbo discovered.  First there was bench-lifting gigantic weights - Art!

Lifting 176 pounds

     Essentially lifting his own body weight, and the bar has to clang loudly against the bench's underside or it's a fail.  Then there's the chin-up, with the interesting proviso that you are again lifting weights, this time held between your legs.  Art!

Only 112 pounds this time.  Lightweight.

     Your chin has to clear that bar at the top or, once again, it's a fail.

     Then, after the short sharp weights selection, comes the real sickener: a route march on a treadmill, carrying a weapon and a rucksack loaded with 52 pounds of weights.  and to pass you need to manage 25 minutes.  O, and the incline increases by 3% every 5 minutes.  And it's set to an awkward 7 miles per hour.  Art!

     Magnus cracked at 18 minutes 30 seconds, poor bloke, but he'd given it a real go.  Ewen, whose face is visible because he'd already failed selection, went at it even harder.  Art!

     Nobody had ever managed beyond 30 minutes, and you can see why, because even the mentally-mad-motivated-monster Ewen was utterly destroyed here.  One anticipates that the Ruffian conscript hordes do not look forward to dealing with these human chamoix, whatever the weather.  

     Motley!  You're going to be abseiling off the roof to see if it can be done, and you're going to be doing it for four hours straight.

As You Should Surely Know

The blog occasionally features impressively large and complex Lego structures, and this morning I made a point of walking past the Lego shop in The Dark Tower, as I wanted to get a photograph.  Art!

A bit of a monster

     Yes, the RMS 'Titanic', which you would need a lot of time to complete, as it has 9,090 pieces.  Do You Have Too Much Time On Your Hands?  Then this is the kit for you!  O you need £570 to purchase it.  One imagines that if you lay out that much money, it will get completed eventually, even if it takes years.

     I wonder - is it waterproof? <measures The Mansion's bath> ...

More Of Murder And Mayhem

Yes, the next installment of "Tormentor" is here, for your delectation and appreciation, which I am going to assume is there since we've not had any complaints, which in my mind is exactly the same as being complimented.

     Don't forget - ADULT THEMES, though I will censor the swearing.

That earned him a hard stare.  A hard stare and  working jaws.

               ‘Whatever happened to you!  You used to be a decent enough person,’ the neighbour managed.

               ‘That was before life took a giant crap on me.  And it’s still happening.’

               ‘If you - ’ continued the neighbour, before Louis shut the door on him.  It was easy to ignore the hammering on the front door, and the ringing of the phone five minutes later.

               By reflex, he answered the phone after sitting and guzzling a packet of biscuits with a cup of tea.  Besides, it might be Angela.

               ‘You ignorant bastard!’ shouted the ingored neighbour, who seemed to have worked himself into a rage in the time between the front door closing and Louis finally answering the telephone.  ‘Your shithole is going to affect property values in this street - ’

               ‘I have a gun,’ lied Louis, cutting into the one-sided rant.  ‘And I know where you live.’

               The slam of the handset felt very satisfying.

              Louis took a fistful of sleeping tablets, to compensate for going to bed completely sober. 

Once again he woke up shivering in a late September morning, the duvet carefully folded up and laid in a corner of the bedroom whilst he lay chilled on the mattress, with vague recollections of a nightmare trying to filter through his mind.

One quick shower later to warm up, Louis decided that the sleeping tablets were a bad idea.  No, make that a Bad Idea.  Trouble waiting to happen.  Besides, he’d freeze to death once the winter got a grip if he continued to throw the duvet away like that.

Better get rid, he concluded, towelling himself dry and getting dressed, before going downstairs and looking for the brown glass jar. 

Mockingly, the jar stood empty on the draining board, the several dozen tablets left from last night nowhere in sight.

     Oooer Matron, what's going on?  You'll find out soon enough.

Hotching With History

Yes, more of those runner-up photographs as present on the BBC's website, the URL I am going to keep secret, so you have to keep coming back to BOOJUM! if you want an update.  Art!

Courtesy Sam Binding

     All you get here is the fact that you're looking at Corfe Castle, so allow Conrad to pad out this item and obtain a little background info for you.  One moment!

     This pile of stone has been around, in one form or another, for 1,000 years, first as an Anglo-Saxon fortress, then latterly as a Norman one.  Eventually it was sold and ended up as a possession of Sir John Bankes, a Royalist who held it for the King during the English Civil Unpleasantness when it was besieged twice, the second time successfully.  Following that it was 'slighted' by order of Parliament, which means it's walls and defences would have been either greatly reduced in height or demolished altogether.  Art!

Crommie pointed and laughed

     

     A rather less poetic picture, which shows how thorough and determined the Parlies were in making sure nobody could defend it successfully.  Par for the Corfe?

Finally -

    - excuse me whilst I pop down and put a pizza in the oven - 

     There we go.  I also tidied up the midden of books around my chair in the Sekrit Layr, and if I can prod Art into a semblance of consciousness with this red-hot toasting-iron -

     I don't need to tell you which is Before and which is After, do I?  Because if I have to then your species our species is doomed.

     Of course - obviously! - if the carpet looks tidier then there must be a corresponding increase in disorder elsewhere, since this is entropy and that's how the Universe rolls, baby, and indeed it's true - Art! o stop snivelling and put a bit of Sudocrem on it.

     My plan when made redundant was to sit down and diligently plough through these works, which has been de-railed now I continue to work <sad face> which also means more money for books <happy face>.