Kit And Fagot

It's Not What You Think It Is

Because, honestly, when has BOOJUM! ever started off with a logical proposition and then proceeded to explain it?  The figure will be close to zero, if not into minus figures.

     Okay, in this Intro you are going to be learning a couple of Ukrainian words.  Firstly, we jump back in time over a hundred years to the First Unpleasantness and the trenches in France and Flanders.  Art!

     This appears to be a communications trench because there's no revetments or duckboards; there's no shortage of mud, mind.  Art!

     This is a picture taken from a short film, of Ukrainian soldiers in their squalid muddy trenches around the fortress town of Bakhmut.  They have sensibly obtained protection they can lie on, because it's incredibly muddy at present, but when temperatures drop and the ground becomes solid, it will also be hideously uncomfortable and a risk to health to lie on.  Art!

     Thanks to Jolly Jake Broe for posting this.  He also has a page from the 'Kyiv Post', with a quote from a Ukrainian soldier with the callsign "Kit", about how bad the mud is.  The item goes on to say that 'trench foot' is a serious problem.  Art!

     You see, 'Kit' is Ukrainian for 'Whale'.  Weren't expecting that, were you?

     Of course - obviously! - trench foot was a problem in the First Unpleasantness, too, and the British army sought to remedy this by ensuring soldiers always had dry socks to change into - AND by massaging whale-oil into their bare feet before putting on said woollens.  Like I say, everything is connected to everything else.

     Now for the Twitter poster Special Kherson Cat - yes, that Kherson - who put up a short vid of two Ukrainians training with an ATGM*.  Art!

     To the hilarity of many South Canadian viewers, SKC (no idea of their gender) described this as the 9K11 'Fagot' ATGM.

     Conrad, loquacious as ever, chimed in with a comment about that car would be a motorbike if it got any smaller, and then espoused "Brain's Faggots", which, if Art will put down his bowl of coal -

     They changed the title to this variant for obvious reasons, because otherwise only zombies would eat them.  They are a real comfort food on a cold winter's day.

     Okay, guess what 'Fagot' means in Ukrainian?

     "Bassoon".  Art!

     You can see the resemblance.  Nothing to do with sexuality or meatballs.

     O, by the way, the 'Stugna-P' native Ukrainians ATGM has two names, which is a bit greedy: "Skif" which is Ukrainian for "Scythian", as the Ukraine's ancient history is based around these lands, and "Stugna", which is apparently the name of a local river, although when Conrad ran it through the translator it came out as "Fat", which might be true if you eat too many faggots.  Art!

     Where the word "Scythe" comes from as they liked to use a weapon shaped like one.

More Manglement

Beware the subtle man, because you won't see it coming until the locomotive runs you over.

     This is another Youtube Reddit post, written up by Original Poster, who was apprenticing as a chef in a hotel kitchen.  Big hotel, big kitchen, lots of staff.  Art!

     The General Manager of the hotel had been promoted from being their HR rep and turned from a relatively benign employee to a dictatorial tyrant of the worst kind.  The one place she didn't run was the kitchen, because the Head Chef was trusted by the owner.  That didn't stop her being a petty miniature Hitler and when one of the Sous Chef's argued with her, she fired him.

     This did not go down well with HC.  Rather than get into a shouting match, he quietly told the other kitchen staff NOT to mix it with GM and cause her to kick off, because he had a plan.
     Next day he took her a cupcake he'd made himself, lying to her and explaining it was a peace-offering, could they start all over again?  Art!

     

     GM, being a greedy sow, inhaled the cake in 0.1 seconds.

     From then on, at least four or five times a week, HC would ply her with cakes that included all the fat and sugar he could cram into them, which GM enthusiastically crammed into her gaping maw.  After 4 months she bewailed the fact that she'd gone up two dress sizes and was fearful of being able to fit into her wedding dress, her big event being in only 4 months.  She was sad and depressed and overweight.

     HC then claimed he'd only supply her with healthy food, lying again.  With mere weeks to go before the wedding, a thoroughly miserable and stressed-out GM was supplied with healthy food again.

     HC revealed his plot on her wedding day, when, despite the healthy food, she'd only gone down one dress size; her dress needed letting out.  Art!

     

     She melted the phone to the owner demanding HC be fired - however, since there was no evidence of wrongdoing, he stayed.  Even worse for her, the fiance, who had been dealing with this entitled cow for months, decided enough was enough and jilted her.

     She resigned by text the next day.

     And nobody was sorry.

"The Sea Of Sand"

The Doctor and Sorbusa are sneaking closer to the bio-vores trans-mat platform on Homeworld, at considerable risk to their hides.

Having crawled undetected up the beach to the sandy plain beyond, the escapees watched for traffic to the trans-mat platform.  Their hypothesis was that a towing team of convict bio-vores would, sooner or later, drag a sledge of bottled algae nearby.  The suns set on Delta Pavonis, creating a fantastic violet twilight of harsh beauty, enough to make the Doctor reflect on how the universe could embody paradoxes of both beauty and horror in the same scene –

          ‘There,’ pointed Sorbusa.  A big sledge, dragged by six bio-vores, slowly made it’s grating way over the well-worn road.  The pair sneaked up behind it, hidden by night and the practiced swearing of the towing team’s cadence.  Sorbusa silently picked off several full bottles, drained them of their energy and tossed the empties away.

          With a nod of informed readiness, the Doctor gingerly climbed aboard the rear of the sledge, realising that Sorbusa had removed roughly enough bottles to compensate for the new passenger’s weight.  Bowing low, the alien leader pretended to be pushing the sledge, another punished farmer acting out his penance.

          Their masquerade lasted until the sledge reached the trans-mat platform.  Few bio-vores were around, and those Technicians and Overseers busy around the platform ignored the Farmers, or at least until Sorbusa straightened up from behind the sledge.  Without any warning he began to stun any bio-vore he deemed a threat, including the six towing the sledge.  A lone Warrior on sentry duty was the first to get sent into oblivion.

     Hurry up, chaps, speed is of the essence!

"The War Illustrated"

We've not had anything from this publication for a while, so here we go.  Art!

     This is a Jeep passing a rather sardonic road sign, outside Foggia, meaning that the 8th and 5th Armies had liberated/conquered/occupied about a quarter of Italy.

     Just a bunch of ships, right?

     WRONG!  This is the Italian Navy steaming into Valetta Harbour on Malta, having surrendered to the Royal Navy.  The caption gleefully states "Thus ended the Battle of the Mediterranean" and they're not wrong.  With the Italian fleet in British  hands and the French fleet scuttled in Toulon harbour, the RN had complete domination over the Med.

Finally -

First day in work tomorrow for three months.  We shall see how this grumpy old man copes amongst all the bright young things.

Chin chin!

*  "Anti Tank Guided Missile" which you should already know.