Of Moles

Have We Done A Theme On This Before?

Quite possibly.  This is Conrad-code for 'I can't be bothered to check'.

     Here an aside.  Hey, I waited until we were 20 words in!  Your Humble Scribe never explained the origins of yesteryon's title "How I Met Your Bother" and do you know I'm not sure what it was myself.  Unless we take the tack that BOOJUM! is the 'bother' in question - ah what the heck, let's just move on.  Art!

     

     Don't be fooled by this site apparently being in the middle of nowhere.  Art!

     There are patrols that randomly check on these sites, as well as ground sensors so sensitive that gophers can set them off, in which case you would see heavily-armed soldiers attempting to arrest and detain a ground squirrel*.

     ANYWAY the reason we open with this is the ever-deepening saga surrounding Donald Trump and his exploits with stolen Top Secret material he kept at Mar-A-Lago, which might be re-christened Mar-A-Lago-straight-to-jail.  The revelations just keep coming.  The FBI have confiscated his passport, meaning that they think he's a flight risk.  Egad!  Not only that, they were alerted to the details of what, exactly, Mister Orange had stolen from the White House and was keeping at his club in the basement.  O yes, MAL is a club where members can bimble about, which has in the past included inquisitive members of foreign media.

     So at present Mister Orange is desperately looking over his shoulder and under his bed to try and find out who is the MAL Mole.  Art!

     There's yet more.  The Feds got their search warrant after subpoena-ing 60 hours of internal security camera footage, witnessing the documents that didn't exist being moved in and out of the basement; doubtless they realised those documents would either get hidden elsewhere or go up in smoke.

     O and those doc - excuse me - those Documents That Didn't Exist?  One of Mister Orange's lawyers had stated in a legal notification that all documents had been returned.  Plainly they had not - someone's head is going to roll for that.  Probably the lawyer's, unless he pleads that he was told by MO that all the documents had been returned, it was Mister Trump's fault, can he (the lawyer) please not go to prison for fifteen years?  Art!

Imagine looking at these walls for 5,475 days

     And we're not done yet.  There are as yet un-named witnesses on MO's MAL staff who explicitly heard him state "These aren't theirs, they're mine" when referring to the Top Secret documents, which kind of shoots down all the excuses his lawyers have been coming up with.  O boy, if they get a subpoena and testify under oath ...

     Still not done!  As legal counsel on a Youtube channel pointed out, all Mister Orange's huffing and puffing has been on social media - his wretchedly unsuccessful platform 'Truth Social' - with NIL input from his lawyers.  No legal challenges whatsoever.  None.  This is rather telling, and not in a good way for The Orange One.

      Just a brief update - I heard that the Feds took away 33 BOXES of documents.  That's a lot of Documents That Don't Exist.

     Blimey!

     Motley, I need to practice my backswing, lie down and grip this golf tee between your teeth.

The Sinister "Battle Mole"

Boy was this one an entertaining read!  It came in my e-mail feed from Skeptoid and was about a 1964 Sinister burrowing machine powered by a nuclear power plant as taken from a Sinister submarine, that could chew through rock at the rate of 4 m.p.h.  Art!

     This is the original design.  Later apocryphal additions were a nuclear-powered rock melting drill, which created a tunnel lined with immensely strong glass walls once the rock had cooled.  The whole project ended disastrously when the nuclear power plant blew up, collapsing the tunnel and burying the Battle Mole, and then all the plans and blueprints were destroyed.  Or perhaps Kruschev took them with him when he got 'retired'?

     Except there's absolutely no evidence of this happening.  For one, melting rock with nuclear power would generate huge volumes of radioactive rock vapour, and the tunnel walls would also be radioactive.  Nuclear power plants don't generate nuclear explosions, and if they had the South Canadians would have detected it on their geophone network.  Art!

     The original accounts had merely drills instead of nuclear-rock melters, rather like the Mole as used by International Rescue.

A Little Less Controversial

As Conrad has asserted on the odd past post, BOOJUM! has an ever-shifting audience with a few staples.  Our noble South Canadian readers, for one.  Also a few places you might not expect.  Art!

     Here we see South Canada and the British Americans, and also Peru.  To the east we have Saudi Arabia, India and Thailand, and South Korea.  If the Norks are aware of BOOJUM! it's probably an instant death sentence for reading it.  Then to the north we have the Ruffians - stout chaps as we know Putin weeps copious tears of hate and fear over the blog - Sweden, Croatia, France, Germany, Iceland, This Sceptred Isle and I think the Netherlands is in there, too.

     Eclectic!

Back To Libya And "The Sea Of Sand"

As you should surely recall, we left The Doctor speeding off without taking Sarah Jane Smith, who was left in a brown study at the British army's depot at Mersa Martuba.  Roundly dismissing The Men, she has gone walkies to see if she can discover the TARDIS.

Not being stupid or hasty, she went along to Lieutenant Llewellyn’s tent, and borrowed an empty water bottle.  Borrowed being a long-term verb.  She filled it from the handy faucet located on the rear of what looked like a petrol tanker but was actually a water tanker.

‘Sorted!’ she chuckled to herself, before catching the exultant tone in her voice.  Going into the deep desert with nobody to help was not really “sorted”, more sort of “desperate”.

Another item “borrowed” from Roger’s tent was a compass.  Sarah knew that locating her own position in the featureless wastes of Cyrenaica would be difficult without a point of reference.  Hence the compass.  Which, she had to admit, seemed a lot more complex than she imagined.  There was a movable dial around the compass face, and a folding cover that indicated positions of the sun, and the interior of the compass was full of liquid.

Her plan was to strike out from the supply dump, on a fixed compass bearing, get a mile or two out and then find the highest ground possible.  She ought to be able to view the surrounding desert well enough to spot the TARDIS if it had appeared yet.

If only that Italian count in his aircraft hadn’t been so trigger-happy! she told herself, trudging over the pea gravel.  Really, what kind of pilot wasted a bomb on a police-box?

     The calm before the storm.  Just you wait, young lady, just you wait.

I Missed This One

Your Humble Scribe was banging on about 'Nexus' yesteryon and missed out what's probably the most famous Nexus of them all.  Art!

Laydeez 'n' germs, I give you Roy Batty

     A Nexus-6 replicant who ends up - but that would be spoilery.  Tot siens!

Finally -

Don't fret, you'll get pictures of my birthday haul, O yes indeedy.  Just not today.

*  Which are not moles, I know I know