What Do You Make Of Me?

Your Humble Scribe Is Honestly Curious

This is the concept that Rabbie Burns, Scottish poet extraordinaire, put very succinctly when he quoth: "O wad some power the giftie gie us, to see oorselves as ithers see us."  Meaning wouldn't it be great if you perceived yourself as other people do.

     Hmmmmm perhaps not.  As you should surely know by now, Conrad is a very large man with a very cross expression built into a face 'not made for smiling'.  Passers-by tend to steer clear even when I'm not muttering to myself.  Art!

Suspicious Conrad is - suspicious

     There are advantages to this; people on the bus avoid sitting next to me unless there are no seats left anywhere else.

     ANYWAY I am curious since Facebook has decided to be silly with it's algorithms again.  For an age the sidebar content has been relatively sensible, suggesting various wargaming groups.  This makes a pleasant change from the days when it would 'Suggest' bizarre groups like "Log-counting software".  I kid you not.  Art!

     I mean, Kreplach! do I look like an industrial timber magnate desperately in need of a means to keep track of how many maple or birch I've felled?  I am guessing that these varieties of tree are used as lumber; don't bother to correct me if I'm wrong.  Art!

     Why would you need an app for this?  One presumes that you are able to witness the lumber being loaded, in which case a Sharpie or Post-it notes would be perfectly fine.

     Then there were the recommendations for - get ready for this one - 'Portable Lumber Mills' as a Facebook Group.

     Wait, what?  Is there another Conrad out there, called 'Robert Connolly', a South Canadian entrepreneur with vast forest holdings in the Pacific North-West, whose cornered the lumber business in Oregon and who has expensive, swanky offices in Seattle?  (because they moved upwards socially from Portland).  Because Your Humble Scribe has a rather truncated single tree in the back garden and that's it.  Art!

Portable lumber mill!

     Yes, a portable lumber mill, for when you simply can't wait to get that sexy lumber back home to begin cutting it up!  Cut it up in the field, in a field, or a forest, and remember to lease it from Rob Connolly Timber Industries Inc., 23 The Plaza, Oregon.  Heh, you saw what I did the - O you do.

     ANYWAY all that was, as per usual, a pre-amble, because today I had a suggestion of mind-buggling* stupidity from Facebook <checks and no, it's not April Fool's Day>.  Art!

     Forgive the low quality resolution, I had to snap it for fear it wouldn't be available later on, and indeed it has vanished into the ether.

     "Goal nets & stanchions" it says.

     WHEN HAVE I EVER GIVEN THE IMPRESSION THAT I WISH TO PLAY THE BALLFOOT GAME!

     The probability of this ever happening is about the same as the Sun spontaneously turning into spaghetti hoops.  What is Facebook thinking?  Don't tell me, there's another Robert Connolly out there who plays left back in the Greggs Pasty League for Lesser Sneddlepool?

Conrad's lonely tree

     BAH!

Well I Never That's Not Clever

By now you should realise that Conrad misses no opportunity to impress with how many steps he's done on his Fitbit, because if he puts in the mileage you are going to Dog Buns! well hear about it.

     The thing is, this fancy bells-and-whistles Fitbit has a battery that doesn't last very long, at which point it needs plugging into a laptop to recharge.  All very well and straightforward.

     EXCEPT NOT!

     Half the time when I disconnect the strap and try to plug the Fitbit body in to re-charge, it won't fit, har har.  Try again a couple of hours later - no problem.  What the Hades is going on.

     I am embarrassed to explain what I found out this afternoon.  Art!

     Both sides of the strap come off, and only one set of bared prongs will fit into a charging slot.  What do you make of me?  All together now "A stupid old git".

Atomic Trains Will Give You Pains

Whilst poking around the darker interstices of the internet, I came across an actual television mini-series that positively revelled in the title "Atomic Train", after coming up with the concept.  Art!

     The title is a misnomer.  It's not the train that's atomic, it's the shoddy Ruffian nuclear weapon being transported that's nuclear.  Why you'd be transporting a Ruffian nuke on a civilian train is rather beyond me.  Yes, it's cheaper than having a proper convoy with escorts, but what kind of risk are you taking?  Knowing the appalling maintenance issues the Ruffians have with everything, can you legitimately believe that this is A GOOD IDEA?

Ooops.

     A train that has really, really gone off the rails.    

     Conrad is silently giving thanks that his Sekrit Layr had new double-glazing put in a couple of years ago, because it keeps the sonic sewage that static cars are playing as they wait for the roadworks to give them a green light.  Conrad: not only does he hate all musicals, he hates your music, too**.  Art!

The Art Of Noise?

Finally -

More of Bloaty Gas Tout and his military adventures, although we will skip over the more gory and ghastly elements, because too much of a bad thing is even worse than too much of a good thing.  Not sure if you can have too much of a neutral thing.

     ANYWAY you are doubtless aware that the Ruffians had a rather muted National Swagger Day on Monday, because it's hard to proclaim a victory when you haven't got one, and harder still to pretend that 'It's all going according to plan, it's all going according to plan' when the Ukes are butting up against your border.  Art!

The T-22 Armata on proud display

     Of course the Ruffians ignore the first three years of war, when they were bezzie mates with the Nazis, and with whom they helped invade Poland, also invading the Baltic republics and parts of Romania.  How did Nazi Germany ameliorate the Royal Navy's blockade?  Why by buying all their raw materials from the Sinister Union!  Nor is there any acknowledgement of Lend-Lease.  This was massively important because, as military historians like John Erickson have stated, South Canadian industry put the Red Army on wheels.  I cannot remember where I read it but the war on the Eastern Front was shortened by a year thanks to the Sinisters having strategic mobility acquired by an enormous truck park.

     You're welcome, Dimya, you Bloaty Gas Tout.

Bloaty Trout.  Close enough.

*  Like 'boggling' except worse.

**  And you are NOT going to change my mind.