We Are Going To Skirt Around POLITICS Here
Don't worry, we shan't do more than dip our long-taloned toes into the scummy waters of politics, because one always feels vaguely unclean afterwards, and Conrad is too lazy to go have a shower.
South Canadian politics is undeniably different from that of other nations, especially when it comes to campaigning for election to public office, because you need VERY DEEP POCKETS. Oodles of money; wheelbarrows or boatloads of cash; lots of lucre. Art!
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| We burned the original down*. |
Enter Citizen Trump. You know, the ex-Prez who whines like a seven-year old about how They stole his election win from him.
Conrad has a crafty theory about this, involving the electoral returns and how they're counted in South Canada, and the undeniable fact that Covfefe Man is, intellectually, a low-wattage bulb. The votes that are counted first are those cast in person at a booth, the last are those that have been sent in by ballot, which is to say not cast in person at a polling station. Or maybe it's the other way round. Whichever, the first returns gave the Tribble-Topped-Beer-Keg-In-A-Suit a lead, which was then eroded as later counts came in. Trump did not understand this, probably because it hadn't been explained on a single sheet of A4 in size 30 font with pictures. Art?
ANYWAY earlier this week Citizen Trump boasted that he'd be making a 'major announcement', which had his fans slavering with anticipation. Announcing a running-mate in his bid to be Prez? He was going on a crash diet? Divorcing to marry another wife? Putting out a hit on Merrick Garland and Jack Smith? Art!
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| Kreplach! I'm completely innocent yet he makes me feel scared |
None of the above. No, the 'major announcement' was the release of a set of digital trading cards, which he compared to baseball cards. Art?
Baseball cards, for anyone not familiar with South Canadian pop culture, are cards that feature a baseball player with various statistics added. Some are exceedingly rare, and collectors vie for them. Art!
These two are ludicrous in the extreme. Let me point out that Citizen Trump escaped military service during the Vietnam war because he had Osteo-acutis**, and his physique, as mentioned above, is more like a sock stuffed with cottage cheese than a chiselled male model.
This is the man who has at least ten major criminal investigations going on into his past conduct and behaviour, as well as making a Prez bid - and this is his idea of a good idea? Even his loyal bootlicker-in-chief Steve Bannon, who is going to prison for refusing to comply with a subpoena against him about Trump, said "I can't do this anymore" and warned that whomever came up with this idea in Citizen Trump's circle of advisers should be immediately fired, although his tone of voice was more 'by a firing squad'.
Hmmmm they may be more successful than Trump Steaks, Trump Casino or Trump University. At any rate, the Tangerine Meme needs the money, because the Republican Party stopped paying his legal bills when he declared his intent to run for Prez. Ooops! Quick, Art, a satirical picture!
Don counts to one. With some effort, it would seem.
The Hangul Angle
'Hangul', you will recall, is the official alphabet of Korea, established by the wise King Sejong in 1446, as a tool to improve literacy amongst the populace. Originally Korea used Chinese, and even today written Korean still uses hundreds of Chinese ideograms - though their use has declined heavily and Conrad can see them being completely obsolete in another generation be
ANYWAY let's have a demonstration of Hangul. Art!
Last night Your Humble Scribe took up a game of solitaire Mahjong, the tiles of which correspond to Dots, Bamboo, Dragons, Winds, Flowers, Men and - ideograms. Art!
You can't deny a certain similarity for several of those ideograms.
Not world-shaking news, just an indication that Korean and Chinese culture have been interacting since 500 BC.
More Minor Domestic Matters
Earlier this year Wonder Wifey made a purchase in a charity shop ('thrift shop' for all those South Canadian readers) of a rather handsome tome that she thought Conrad might like to use as a scrap-book.
It's been a while but last night I nailed my courage to the sticky place and began to use it as just that, a place to keep flat media of interest. Art!
Featuring Conrad himself about thirty years younger. If you're good I may post a pic or two of the contents.
O No More Snow
It arrived overnight, the treacherous stuff. Thing is, the last snowfall, or what's left of it, has been transformed into glassy ice, so we now have camouflaged strips of death-trap if one goes walkies. Art!
The pavement ('footwalk' for you SC bludgers) at the far side of the road won't be a problem, because any snow gets melted by the Sun. On the nearside the pavement is always in shadow at this time of year, so the inevitable glassy ice beckons. Meanwhile I bet Lower Sodom ('Royton' if we're being formal) won't have so much as a flake of the cold white stuff.
"The Sea Of Sand"
By way of climactic contrast. We have shifted focus back to Earth, where the alien bio-vores are settling in quite nicely, thank you.
All part of an alien evironment.
Like the metal vehicles. Not being able
to operate them with their alien crews now dead, they had mostly been left
where they ceased to function. A pity,
since three Transport Cars were now damaged and inoperable. A Mobile Repair Unit was being constructed at
the Infiltration Complex, using metals from an alien vehicle towed back
there. Icono remembered the astonishment
when the technical staff first saw the trophy.
So much metal!
There
must be a problem with the trans-mat at the other end, too, because no further
supplies came through once that heretic appeared and was killed. Fortunately a big shipment of bottled algae
came through as well.
Not
a great problem; they had enough energy here to keep going. Not only that, the scanner unit would be
operational shortly, enabling them to locate other sources of bio-mass.
Albert and the Professor
conferred with each other for several minutes, discussing in hushed but urgent
tones. Sarah kept an eye on them,
wondering what mischief they were cooking up.
The Italians were grateful for what little food there was, cooking the stew and sardines and accepting the water. Their desert car now stood alongside the Chevrolet, with one of the crew keeping sentry at the lip of the wadi. Periodically he would be replaced. When Dominione came back from his stint, Roger sent Tam to keep watch.
Conrad, the author of this screed, can't remember what mischief Albert and the Prof are cooking up, either. Old age and memory, hmmm?
Finally -
From my seat at the window (also next to the radiator) I can't tell if it's raining or not. In order to earn one million brownie points I have to take Edna for a walk, so I suppose Your Humble Scribe will find out soon enough. Well, let's get this dog and pony show on the road.
* Tee hee!
** 'Bone-spurs' to you and I
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