I Need To Point Out
- that the "Ass" here is the the British donkey, not the South Canadian vulgarism. That phrase "The law is an ass and an idiot" comes from the works of Charles Dickens, who popularised a much older saying, bless his chaotic locks. Art!
Somebody needs a haircut!
The reason I put this up as today's Intro title is because of legal precedents being executed over in South Canada. You ought to be aware that we here at Boojum! take care to avoid religion and politics, unless we think they might increase traffic, in which case we have no scruples.
ANYWAY you may also be aware that ex-president Trump is attempting, and desperately so, to prevent any records from his administration on 06/01/2021 being released - we need not speculate as to why, just that this is his modus operandi: stall and delay and play for time, because then folks might get fed up and go on holiday (sorry for using Latin).
The real King Donald
(the Sixth, for completists)
He tried to claim 'Executive Privilege', meaning in his head he's still President therefore he can order folks not to release any information. The courts took a dim view of this, stating "Presidents are not kings. And you are not a President." This probably went down EXTREMELY BADLY as Mister Trump does not like to be reminded that he lost the 2020 election.
The remarkable thing about this judgement is now quickly it came down. Normally the South Canadian courts move with all the speed of an arthritic snail on downers in treacle ("molasses" for any South Canadians out there); not this time. They were positively sprightly. It's only been a couple of months since the demand for documents went out.
Perhaps predictably, the Trump team's next recourse was to the Court of Appeals, who acted with (relatively) blinding speed, coming to a decision in only 9 days. It was not a good day for Mister Trump; they delivered a rebuttal of 68 pages, thoroughly destroying his claims that cases were being thrown out on technical details. You might compare using a steam hammer to crush a coriander seed here. Art!
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| Thus (Coriander seed invisible at this distance) |
Trump's legal team now hope to be able to appeal to the Supreme Court, who are what it says on the tin: the highest court in the land. Given the devastating smack-down delivered by the Court of Appeal, they may refuse to even look at the case, in which case there might be some bonfires at Mister Trump's Mar-A-Lago residence. In fact, with considerable irony, those documents might get released as soon as January 6th.
Notice we have been mostly dealing with the South Canadian legal system and Mister Trump's attitude towards same - not mention of that nasty Politics!
Motley! We're going to have you assume the position of a judge.
Art blunders again.
(But we'll leave this one up)
Whither The Weather
Take a good look at the cityscape of Mega-City One above, untroubled and unsullied by any grimy grey clouds. You may counter that the artist isn't going to occlude his wonderful artwork with a swathe of greyness, and that the Big Meg has Weather Control to keep things clear and sunny, both of which are correct. Either way, a vista to wonder and ponder at.
Now for a bit of real world mega-city and weather. Art!
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| Behold the City Beneath The Sea! |
O for the Big Meg's Weather Control, hmmmm? Just imagine - it would only rain at night, sufficiently hard to wash the streets clean - though WC might have it's work cut out in the small hours of Sunday, to judge by the condition of the streets on a Monday morning when I trudge to the Dark Tower. Art!
I called it "W.C."! <sniggers>
Talking Of The Dark Tower
Your Humble Scribe, lacking a helicopter, has to get to work on the Eighteenth Floor of said building by tramping past the shops en route to Arndale House foyer, a bit of a chore enlightened by the Lego shop's varying displays. We've already seen their assembled 'Titanic', now cast yer glazzies over this exhibit. Art!
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| The All Terrain Attack Transport |
There aren't any puny humans around to give a sense of scale, and the shop wasn't open so I couldn't order a staff member to stand alongside it. Let me see if a touch of Google-fu can resolve this -
There you go. A pretty hefty 'build'.
(Stop me if I get too technical)
Once again, you have to be a person with Too Much Time On Their Hands* to manage this beast, as it constitutes 6,785 pieces and will set you back £110 to boot. This version is only 'posable' so you will have to wait several years until a motorised one able to 'walk' comes along - if fans haven't already managed that.
One thought does come to mind - are these models delivered ready-assembled to the shop, or does a valiant member of staff put one together, and if the latter, do they get paid to construct in work time**?
Ooops - Nearly Forgot Your Daily Dose Of "Tormentor"
Things continue to get stranger for Luma. Possibly mixing whisky and sleeping tablets is not good for your mental health?
‘****** hell!’ blurted Louis, beginning to get
alarmed. Had he sleepwalked downstairs
last night and scoffed thirty or more tablets?
No, or he’d be dead.
That, or still sleeping.
The tablets weren’t in the kitchen flip-top bin, nor
the wastepaper baskets in the lounge or the back room.
Puzzled, Louis made a breakfast using all the
left-overs in the fridge, not tasting any of it while he chewed over the
problem of his disappearing tablets.
To add to his concerns, a message had been left on the
answerphone. When he played it back all
he heard was background hiss and white noise; he grimaced in annoyance,
realising that the gang of teenaged lads from last evening must have got hold
of his telephone number. Nor was that
all. Throwing open the heavy lounge
curtains revealed the front garden in all it’s dingy sparseness, and he
couldn’t help feeling there was something missing.
There was. His
irate neighbour of the night before came strolling up the garden path later
that morning, looking contrite.
‘Before you start, I apologise
for flying off the handle last night,’ said the man the instant Louis opened
the front door. ‘I thought you weren’t
going to clean the paint up. Sorry.’
Louis nearly delivered one of his
blunt insults before catching sight of the front door from the corner of his
eye. Yesterday it had sported “ERV”
across the middle; this morning it was spotless.
‘Er – yeah. Yeah, no worries, thanks,’ replied Louis, checking
and confirming. ‘It’s all gone, has it?’
Finally -
A minor gem from "Malicious Compliance" over on Youtube. OP (which is the convention when referring to the person who posted the thread originally on Reddit) had gone to his boss's house to get instructions about his work for that day. Boss's kids, aged 3 and 5 were present in the lounge whilst the boss was off pottering elsewhere. Kid 5 picks up a hammer and starts bashing the lounge walls with it, at which point OP relieves him of the hammer and tells him off.
A hammer. Just so we're clear
Boss promptly arrives and shrieks at OP "DON'T PARENT MY CHILDREN EVER AGAIN! O and do you want a coffee?". He goes off to brew coffee in the kitchen. Kid5 then picks up a large knife (Boss obviously a bit slack on safety in the home) and goes at the plastic-wrapped white leather sofa, stabbing, hacking and slashing it a good 50 times. Boss returns with the coffee and discovers the mayhem as OP gives him a big, beaming smile. There is a pregnant silence and OP walks away with his coffee.
Well, Boss, he did exactly as you ordered. Congrats on a ruined sofa that will cost thousands of $$$ to replace.
* Yes yes yes, I am aware of the inherent irony
** Almost as good a job as that chap who worked for a comics distributor in the UK, and who got PAID to go to comic conventions.
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