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Thursday 24 March 2022

What's In An NDA?

 No!  We Are Not Talking About Neodymium Attraction

For Your Elucidation, Neodymium magnets are the insanely powerful magnets that have proliferated since they were invented in the Eighties.  If you wanted the future now in 1983*, then you got it in 1984 when NDA arrived.  Be careful what you wish for, you may get it.  In the neck.  Because there are distinct hazards associated with these devices, thanks to the incredibly powerful magnetic field they exert, which can cause other NDAs or pieces of steel to shoot across the room in order to meet passionately, and woe betide any squishy Hom. Sap. caught in the middle.  Art!

Much more photogenic than a bit of metal

     ANYWAY once again I've led with an item that has nothing to do with the actual Intro, sue me if you don't like it, I don't care because I'm horrid that way.  What I really intend to do is wibble on about Non Disclosure Agreements, and one or two in particular.  Art!

<moment's silence for Jim, please>

     Clearly the Seventies are a closed book to all you less-than-middle-aged-snappers, so allow me to point out that "The Rockford Files" was a global success, because it was an excellent blend of comedy, action, character and wit.  HOWEVER Universal Studios, the suits behind the series, claimed it actually lost money and thus they didn't owe Jim anything beyond what they'd already paid him, and here's a fag-packet and beer-mat we worked our sums out on.

     O dearie me.  Art!


     For all his affable persona, Jim could be extraordinarily stubborn when he thought he was in the right, so he sued Universal for £10 million in 1983 - you know, the year before NDA.  The case dragged on until 1989, because this is what Big Money resorts to; delay, delay, delay, hope the problem goes away.  It didn't.  They settled out of court, because if it had gone to court they'd have lost and in a big way.

     HOWEVER under the terms of the settlement, Jim could not disclose the amount of their payment <sad face>.  That's where the Non Disclosure Agreement part comes in.  Art!


     Here is where Conrad's unrequited curiosity comes to the fore.  Okay, okay, okay, sheer nosiness.  Since Jim square-danced off this mortal coil back in 2014, surely the terms of the NDA with Universal have expired?  Or do they insist on secrecy until the end of recorded time?  In which case Jim must have REALLY squeezed that settlement out of them.

     Since I'm at work in The Dark Tower I can't really devote a long afternoon checking this up.  I'll get back to you on this.  Art!

Matt Hartless and the Maverick Seven

     Surely a nod to one of Jim's most famous roles?  And it you don't know what I'm talking about THE EXIT DOOR IS THAT WAY!

     Motley, break out the Pontiac Firebird and book a session at the racetrack, for we are going to practice a few dozen J-turns!


Don't Worry, Conrad Is Still Seething

Tonight we aim our hosepipe of chlorine trifluoride squarely at First Bus.  Their 84 service from Gomorrah-on-the-Irwell was late whilst the 83 never turned up, cue a cricket-match crowd waiting to get on, which took ages.  Arrived in Oldham Bus Station just in time to see the 409 driving off to Rochdale.  The next 409 didn't turn up.  Nor did the next one.  In abject despair, Your Humble Scribe called Degsy for a lift in case the 19:30 didn't turn up, either.

     Clearly, dissection for the organ banks or service in the uranium mines is too good for First Bus staff.  I shall have to sit down and give serious thought to the most excruciating forms of torture to inflict on them.

Forced to be First Bus passengers!


I'm Taking Steps

Literally.  You recall that I worked out the amount of steps to the end of Tandle Hill Road and back?  It was rather less than the alternate route around the back of The Summit, which totalled 1978 steps.

     Surprise!  Art?


     If Edna and I detour around 'The Loop' then our adjusted total comes to -

     1978 steps!

     I know, I know, it's not world-shaking.  Just to keep you up to date.


Bring Up The Torment!

If you recall, Luma was hosting Fathers Geoghan and Escobal, bringing them up to date on supernatural events and his acquired defences.

You’ll be lucky if that Nige is any indicator!

               ‘Certainly, Father,’ Louis meekly agreed.

               Father Escobal whispered quickly in his superior’s ear.

               ‘Hmm, yes, yes.  I can possibly pull strings sufficiently to have the police stop being so interested in you, eventually.  My request would have to travel up the heirarchy and then across, perhaps stopping off at a few barristers along the way.  Takes time.’

               Louis was honestly surprised.

               ‘You can do that?’

               ‘I’m not a simple parish priest,’ the other man replied, drolly.  ‘I have influence, but it needs to be used subtlely.’

               Good enough.

               ‘Thanks!’

               The priest sighed.

               ‘I’m not being completely altruistic, Louis.  You are a unique individual of great potential worth, to the Church and to your fellow men.’

               Father Escobal nodded fervently.

               ‘One other thing, Father – how can I get hold of more holy water?  I want more, just in case.’

               ‘More?  Let me think – the nearest Catholic church is Saint Aidan’s.  I will have a word with them should you need more. In fact, if you ever need sanctuary or help, head for there.  I’ll have more than a word with them.’

               Finally remembering his manners, Louis offered both men a cup of tea, which the elder man accepted with relish.  Father Escobal declined politely, explaining that he didn’t take either.

               ‘Doesn’t know what he’s missing!’ jested Father Geoghan.  ‘Strictly teetotal, too.  Chap of splendid virtues.’  He sighed in mock-apology.  ‘If only I could better myself the way he does.’

When the two priests left, Louis was left feeling that the Catholic Church regarded him with a fond, proprietorial eye.  Whilst the protection it offered was welcome, he felt less sure of Father Geoghan’s agenda.  There’d come a time when he needed to do something in return, there had to be.

     Ooooh, Luma, you cynic.  Probably true, mind.  I wonder if they'd make him sign an NDA?  They could write it in Latin <hack spit> so he'd no idea what it was.  'An Instrument Of Protection' would be the euphemism.


Finally -

Okay, this is the bit where Conrad pours forth all his accumulated wisdom on the Ukrainian 'Special' Military Operation, all three thimbles-worth, so you may skip if you feel squeamish or if too much Current Affairs is getting you down.  Art!


     The KP removed the figures shortly afterwards, claiming that they'd been hacked, and shook their fists at those wicked Ukrainians -

     Except these figures fall in the middle ground between the very conservative South Canadian ones, and the definitely exaggerated Ukrainian ones.  They seem eminently reasonable, in fact, with the usual @ 2:1 ratio of wounded to dead.  Hackers would have used far higher numbers to make a point, so people are speculating that someone at KP grew a backbone and deliberately leaked these numbers.  Bear in mind that these totals are from 2 days ago, and they imply that the Ruffians are losing an average of 1,000 men per day, which is simply not sustainable.  Why do?  Because these aren't the rear-echelon armchair warriors who hold down sinecures in an office and collect bribes all day long; these are the grunts in the combat arms who do the fighting and dying.  Once the Ruffians run out of them, then you'll see the armchair warriors get their chance to be heroes.


     But don't forget - it's all going completely to plan!

     Whose plan?

     JONESY'S PLAN!  Art!

     

Jonesy demonstrating what next year's Ruffian army budget can afford

     And with that last satirical barb, we are done.


*  Nod to Peter Hamill there

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