'Dictatoritis'

Let Us Be Clear -

This is not a disease recognised by medical science, because it's origins lie within the fertile meadows of Conrad's imagination.  It is, however, a very real condition that has loooooong had an effect on the real world, really.  

     What am I talking about?  Well, a state that applies to all tyrannical despotic dictators, since the year dot.  However, since I don't feel like doing a lot of research into Greek tyrants like Pisistratus or Roman ones like Caligula, you'll just have to settle for those of more modern times.  And yes, Pisistratus is a real name so WASH OUT YOUR FILTHY MINDS!  Art?

Ol' P.

     To what do I refer?  The tendency for dictators to end up surrounded by sycophantic yes men who keenly approve their most idiotic ideas as worthy of approval by Napoleon or Caesar.  This situation arises for a few reasons.  One is that, having risen to power, a tyrant has absolutely NO INTENTION of ever giving it up.  Anything that threatens this worldview is thus automatically suspect.  These dictators do not like to be told bad news or ever hear the 'No' word, which is why they end up surrounded by yes men; all the people either brave or stupid enough to report the unpalatable truth/say 'No' either get arrested, tortured or executed, or all three (probably in that order).  Art!

     Here we have Stalin, or "That Little Sod With The Moustache" as he was known behind his back.  Who knows what his fellow Communists felt when he decided it was time to break bread with Adolf Hitler?  Because anyone who dared to criticise the Red Tsar would end up Arrested, Tortured Or Dead, which we will hereafter abbreviate to ATOD.  At the beginning of the Sinister involvement in the Second Unpleasantness, Stalin interfered with military matters extensively, to disastrous result, because he was a military ignoramus.  Do you think any Red Army generals spoke back to him and said 'No'?  Dictatoritis at it's most virulent.

     HOWEVER Stalin did eventually learn to leave well alone and let the Red Army get on with fighting the war.  Who else do we know who did not learn this lesson?  That's right, Herr Schickelgruber.  Art!

"I, too, Conrad, have a treacherous appendage!"

     At the beginning of the Second Unpleasantness you could get away as a senior Teuton officer with disobeying Der Fuhrer, and only get a severe telling-off from The Carpet Chewer.  With the passing of time he got less tolerant - yes that is possible of this man - and any disobedience of his m - excuse me, His Mighty And Ineluctably Correct Will - would get you sent to prison or, after the July Plot, shot by firing squad.  If you brought him bad news he would fly into a rage and spout his own version of reality, which had diverged with the real world from about February 1943.  He remained convinced until the very last days that, because he was Herr Schickelgruber, he was always correct and the world had better fall into line because he said so.  A better example of Sycophant-in-chief than Martin Bormann would be harder to find, because he controlled outsider's access to the Boss, and if you were going to present either doom-laden reality or use the 'N' word, then you were going home.  Art!

Bormann the doorman

     I believe this condition also affects Winnie-the-Pooh, as his unkind fat-shaming critics call Xi Pingpong, you know, the tyrant of The Populous Dictatorship.  Apparently he has the typical tyrant's relish for shooting the messenger, so he only ever gets good news, despite what is happening in the real world.  Again, it is dangerous to your health and job prospects to bring Winnie either bad news or the 'N' word, so people don't.  Thus he ends up with a very skewed world view thanks to living in an information 'bubble'.  Art!

BOOJUM! skirts Politics

     I believe the Israelis have a methodology to counteract this tendency, where any single dissenting member of their Cabinet has to have their view analysed seriously about major issues, to see if their insight is actually correct versus the consensus.  HOWEVER this is not a thing that dictators undertake.

     For all this Intro you may have noticed that I've avoided mentioning a contemporary Dictator, but I'm sure you can read between the lines.

     

Poutine!

     I could continue but then the whole blog would be this Intro, and we do like to introduce a little variety.

'On The Water'

Another entry from the BBC's photographic themed competition, and hopefully a little more entertaining than the bland seascape last time.  Art!

Courtesy Martin Pilkington

     Martin states that this shot is on Lake Inle, in Burma (or Myanmar if you're feeling political), and show fishermen waiting patiently for fish to show themselves.  Very Zen.  Conrad wonders what kind of fish they catch and, of course - obviously! - what they taste like.

"The Sea Of Sand"

Ah yes, contemporary political and military woes have intruded upon the archaeologists at Makin-al-Jinna - shades of that fat biffer Mussolini again - and Roger has been arrested, to his undisguised horror.  

‘Ah,’ nodded the other man.  ‘Please wait in the staff car whilst my men and I detain your comrades.  The path leads to the excavation?’

Roger nodded, then numbly walked to the small staff car, to sit in the back whilst the swarthy driver watched him with muted suspicion.  Half an hour later the seven excavation members hove into view over the sand sea, pushing their wheelbarrows.  The Tenente walked at the front of the column, the two soldiers at the back, once again with their bayonets fixed.   When the group got close enough, Roger saw that Templeman’s face was a muted purple, indicative of baffled rage.  Valette and Bourgebus looked both sullen and dismissive, managing to convey Gallic contempt for ther captors.  The Italian members of the expedition looked as stunned as Roger felt.

Professor Templeman and Doctor Bartolomei displaced Roger from the rear of the staff car. 

‘Are you leaving, too, Doctor?’ asked Roger.  The dapper Florentine made a wry face.

‘Certainly, Roger.  With only three of us left the work cannot progress.  Fulgoni and Di Fellica are collecting the data we have.  I regret you will have to join them in the truck as the Tenente wishes the Professor and I to remain close to him.’

Templeman was muttering under his breath into his beard, sounding immensely angry. 

It’s a good job that officer’s got men with guns to back him up! thought Roger.  The old man’s angry enough to kill him with a pick-axe.

His last view of the tent collection comprising the Templeman-Bartolomei expedition came from the back of the truck, under the watchful eyes of the two Italian soldiers. 

It was desperately hot, dull and hard work, but I never imagined I’d miss it!  And who left a wheelbarrow at the top of the dunes?  The damn thing’s falling down the dune.  No, wait a bit, they brought both barrows back into camp.  What was that thing?

Further worries about the distant object were replaced by more immediate ones, like where they were going to get water from in their journey.  And food, too.  No supplies from the supply truck, only stale bread, tinned ham and coffee, thrown into a sack by Di Fellica in considerable haste.

Unseen, concealed by heat haze, dust and distance, Roger’s “wheelbarrow” moved slowly towards the tent encampment with the deliberation of a machine and the caution of an animal.

     A bit longer than usual, for which I apologise.  I wanted to reach a natural stopping point, less a cliff-hanger than a full stop, and here we are.

A Progress Report

Your Humble Scribe is now at Page 1304 of "Reclaiming History" and Ol' Vinnie has been shooting down silly conspiranoid loonwaffles like there's no tomorrow.  Only 200+ pages to go!  I shall be happy to see the back of this work, it's very detailed and complicated and it cannot be taken into work on the bus, as it has the size and weight of a breezeblock.  Art!

Vinnie and his baby

Finally -

O goody - Perun, that Australian vlogger of outstanding ability, has put up another Youtube post.  It's an hour long and deals with "Russian Infantry Manpower And Proxy Forces".  No exaggeration, this guy is so good the FSB will be eagerly reading what he has to say.  HOWEVER it's an hour long, so it's goodbye from me.

Pip pip!