If I Were To Say "The Beast"

You Might Be Forgiven For Misunderstanding

It's a little ambiguous, after all.  There are umpteen films with just such a title, such as one released this year, about a father and his two daughters being hunted by a lion, which is a bit of a role-reversal.  The one I was thinking about was about a Ruffian tank in Afghanistan - Art!

     I've actually seen a bit of this.  Rather than being filmed in Afghanistan - which would have created problems, since the Sinisters were still occupied in a shooting war at the time - it was filmed in Israel, which makes a convincing stand-in for the other country.  The T-55 tanks depicted were originally just that, T-55 tanks generously donated by Israel's Arab neighbours, which the Izzies converted to their own standard.  Art!

     As a further bit of trivia, Dale Dye appears in an uncredited role as a helicopter door-gunner.  You'd probably recognise him as Colonel Sink in "Band Of Brothers" but his main occupation is being a military adviser to film studios, making sure that actors know which end the bullets come out of.  He also gets a mention in Michael Herr's "Despatches".  Art!

     ANYWAY of course - obviously! - that's not what this Intro is about.  There is a fearfully pervy French film with the same title which we won't go into, and moving swiftly along I found another poster of the same title.  Art!

     ANYWAY what I am really referring to is "The Beast" a.k.a. the limo that the South Canadian president takes when nipping down to the shops.  We mentioned it briefly yesteryon so I thought a return visit was apt.  Art!

Note cool reg: 'Cadillac 1'

     Typicallly, the windows are all opaque so no potential assassins know where the Prez is sitting, or even if he's in the car at all.  No, you can't judge if it's occupied by looking at the suspension, because this monster weighs eight tons and a puny human body won't even register.  Yours for only £1,000,000.

     Yes, that's expensive, but look what you get for your buck.  Art!

With puny human for scale

     The wheels:  are puncture resistant thanks to their high Kevlar content and will continue to serve even if flat, as they have an inner steel lining, although handling would probably be a bit rubbish.

     The chassis: Reinforced by steel plate to protect against any blast coming from a mine, IED or hand-grenade chucked beneath The Beast.

     Accessories: the driver has night-vision cameras, a GPS tracking system and can fire tear-gas grenades at the flick of a switch.  Pump-action shotguns and a small blood-bank of the Prez's own red stuff also carried.

     Bodywork: overall, laminated armour five inches thick - eight inches thick for the doors - composed of steel, titanium, aluminium and ceramic sandwiches.  This thing could shrug off APDS or HESH rounds.

     Fuel tank: covered with armour, obviously, and also contains a foam agent that prevents combustion even if pierced.  Art!

     The Boot ('Trunk' for our South Canadian readers):  contains a firefighting system and an oxygen supply, because the whole vehicle can be hermetically sealed against chemical attack.  Also contains more tear-gas grenade launchers and a smoke-generator, because which car designer watched too much "The Man From U.N.C.L.E" as a child?  Art!

     Finally, the driver.  No, he's not some hapless Civil Servant, he's from the Secret Service and is trained in defensive driving and escape manoeuvring even if all four tyres have been shot out, and were such a thing to happen you can bet your last nickel he'd be on the blower to the armed escorts in the rest of the motorcade.  Art!

     

'Convoy Escort Vehicle'

     Which would promptly make the ambushers go away.

     There we are, all better informed than we were five minutes ago! and you're welcome.

Un-enviable Jobs: Ruffian Economist

Yes indeedy, because the EU, G7 (and Australia) have imposed a price cap on Ruffian oil of $60.  This means that any ship carrying Ruffian oil had better not have paid more than this or they'll be denied insurance, because shipping insurance is almost exclusively done by Western companies.  No insurance, no entry allowed into port and thus no off-loading of oil.  Art!

     Peter The Average and the Ruffian petroleum industry are, predictably, purple-faced with rage about this, because 60% of their economy relies on oil and gas exports.  They are now saying that they'll insure the vessels, which is a lot riskier than you might imagine as they've been buying up old vessels at the end of their service life.  What are the odds that, if an accident occurs, they don't pay up?  "Act of God/aliens/gremlins/Igor Jenkins*".  Yeah, which would instantly kill their market.

     The Ruffians also lack the raw number of tankers required to ship their oil overseas, to the tune of over a hundred ships.  This is because they used pipelines to deliver oil to Europe and didn't need a massive tanker fleet, and 54% of the vessels they did have were Greek.  Which is part of the EU.

     So, Ruffian economists are getting stress ulcers when they aren't falling out of windows.  Art!

Read 'em and seep

Lord Peter's Crossword

I must say, I'm ever so glad I never continued with Ol' Dot's cryptic crossword, as it would have driven me over the edge.  Here's the last 'clue' for the Across.  "Smooth and elastic and, I guess, The dearest treasure you possess (5)"
     

     I shan't bait you with this.  The solution is DERMA.

     Yes, I can hear your brows furrowing from here.  Let me look it up.  Ah yes - Greek for 'Skin'.  Glad we got that cleared up.  Mine's no longer very smooth, mind.  Art!

"The Sea Of Sand"

Our escapees and Italians are trying to accommodate each other, with a bit of stern talking from Sarah.

‘How come you happen to have no weapons?’ asked Sarah sweetly, with the open expression of a maiden aunt.  ‘Oh – could it be because the Italians managed to defeat you?’

          She might very well have poked a lit taper into a dental cavity to judge how both British soldiers responded.

          ‘I don’t care!’ she snapped at them.  ‘We have to deal with the here and now.  With horrible alien monsters, who kill as soon as look at you.  The Italians are humans and you had better understand that.  Humans!’

          If an officer had shouted at them, if a sergeant had bullied them, if a politician had tried to cajole them, the men in the back of that Chevrolet would not have been remotely impressed.  Confronted with a slight female journalist speaking from the heart, they were motivated by a combination of guilt and hope.

          ‘I can hear an engine,’ said Corporal Mickleborough, with genuine surprise, an emotion that cut across worries about current terrestrial comrades.  ‘And it’s not a truck.’

          ‘It’s an aircraft,’ said Albert with assurance.

          Indeed it was.  All eyes turned to the skies, and the outline of a high-winged aeroplane that droned across the desert, failing to make a deviation or diversion.  The metal insect went from east to west, then back again, droning away like a dragonfly.

          Roger recognised the behaviour of a spotter aircraft, a type of plane that visited the battlefield to detect the opposition and direct artillery fire upon them.  Or, perhaps, a photo-reconnaissance plane, out to take pictures of the depot.

     

     Don't get your hopes up, matey.

Finally -

Dog Buns!  England have been knocked out of the Wold Coupe (sp?) which means no getting let go early from work.  Plus, when matches were played earlier, people's dreadful taste in music had to be turned off.  Wretched rap and daytime radio pap.  Where are the songs about the bleak meaninglessness of existence?  The angst and anomie of life in the twenty-first century?  How giant vampire bats from the Moon invaded and conquered Earth?  Bah!

     HOLY KREPLACH DOG BUNS!!  

     Excuse me for using TWO exclamation marks, but I just read that The Mars Volta got back together and released a new album a couple of months ago!  That's my Christmas present sorted.

*  That careless Ruffian soldier who keeps smoking in the worst possible places