Battle Cattle

Or, The Return Of The Killer Kows In The Murder Meadow

We have covered this topic previously, because despite what you may think, here in This Sceptred Isle several people have indeed been killed by cows.  There is usually  a calf involved, and a normally placid bovine will charge and trample you if it thinks Daisy Junior is at risk.  Having quarter of a ton wearing hooves at each corner running over you repeatedly will definitely put a crimp in your day.  Art!

     You thought I was joking, didn't you?  Nope, 'Battle Cattle' is real.  Originally it was a simple board game, then a card game, and it's now on it's third edition, so there are people out there willing to pay and play.  You have to generate combat statistics for your cow, after choosing a breed, and you then go on to attack your opponents until there's only one cow left standing.

     ANYWAY here's a link to the previously-mentioned blog, complete with pun in the title.

BOOJUM!: Stop Me If You've Herd This One Before (comsatangel2002.blogspot.com)

     So what brings this on?  O I thought you'd never ask.  First, let us set the scene.  Art!

     This is the Gila Wilderness, part of New Mexico, a national park in South Canada that certainly has stunning scenery.  Art!

     Very picturesque.

     What could possibly go wrong with a walk along one of these scenic routes?  Why, one of these.  Art!

      This, ladies and gentlemen, is a feral cow.  I know, I know, it sounds like a labelmate of Skinny Puppy or Slaughter And The Dogs, except it's real.  You can tell it's feral as it has no branding or ear tags to denote ownership.

    How did they come to be there? wondered Conrad, offended that they hadn't already been turned into beefburgers.  No, not a concerted escape attempt; apparently a rancher abandoned them back in the Seventies at a different site, the Redstone Allotment.  They are bad for the environment, since they graze all year round, and destroy habitats, and also river and stream banks, and are aggressive with trail-walking tourists.  Art!

     Enter the South Canadian Forest Service.  You might wonder why forests need servicing.  Well, somebody has to keep the trails safe, watch out for flooding and especially keep an eye out for fires.  Which you can efficiently manage from a helicopter.  You can also put a sharpshooter with a rifle in one, and have it hover so they can pot feral cows, which is the plan, to the number of 150.  They won't be able to get close to the bovine bullet-catchers, as helicopters are LOUD and would startle them away.  Oddly enough, environmental pressure groups are perfectly fine with this planned cull, presumably because Friesian cows aren't native to New Mexico and are careless about looking after their landscapes.

     Conrad is saddened to note that their bodies will be left to decompose in situ, rather than being turned into sausages.  O well, I'll just have to make do with those ones in the fridge.

     Motley!  We're going to see who's faster, you or a stampede of cows.

CAUTION!  Your insurance company may be skeptical

Continuing The Theme

Conrad is currently watching "The Undefeated", an 'oater' as the South Canadians have it, set immediately after their Civil Unpleasantness and featuring lots of cowboys, amongst whom is Ben Johnson.  Art!

   He was good mates with John Wayne and frequently turns up in his films.  Ben was the real deal as a cowboy, starting off as a stuntman and riding double.  He just so happened to safely stop a wagon carrying three men when the horses stampeded, in front of John Ford.  Ford promised him payment in future, which amounted to a seven-year contract.  

     And, as someone who never had any pretensions about his acting ability, he still managed to win an Oscar for his role in "The Last Picture Show".  Plus he was great as Tector Gorch in "The Wild Bunch".  Art!

     Suprisingly enough he got on very well with the tumultuous Sam Peckinpah, who appreciated his lack of airs and graces.

     Right, that's enough about cows and cowboys.  Next!

You What?

So there I was, looking for inspiration on Quora, and I found it, just not in the way I expected.  Art!

     This, gentle reader, is an "Anti-Anxiety Dog Bed".  They aren't cheap, the one above costs about £30.  Let me put up a blurb that supposedly explains what these things are: "The theory behind the bed design is that the long pile and deep soft filling emulates the feeling of your dog being comforted by their mother and /or other pack members and this in turn contributes to a calming sensation. The dog also lies deep within the bed thus contributing to a heightened sense of security."

     Edna will settle for a pile of my laundered tee-shirts.

"The Sea Of Sand"

We jump back to planet Earth, where we join up with the plucky band of survivors now in full possession of the Forward Supply Depot at Mersa Martuba.

“Boccata il Dragone”: the words now graced the bonnet of Dominione’s Sahariana, painted on in white matt, paint discovered by Sarah in one of the mud huts.  She had hauled fuel in the leaking, flimsy petrol tins from Supply Stack E14, filling up the huge drum that fed the flamethrower.  This drum sat where a passenger would have been, securely strapped onto the seat.  Projecting over the dashboard and the bonnet was the flame gun itself, riveted into place.  The curved, beak-like muzzle hung slightly forward of the front bumper, deliberately, to prevent any burning petrol from falling onto the car.

          True to his word, the Doctor wired up the flamethrower to the Sahariana’s ignition system, enabling the fuel to be pressurised and fired.  Torrevechio gleefully tried the weapon out, sending a streak of smoking fuel fifty yards over the sands.  Fortunately, he possessed enough foresight to turn the car away from any stacks in the depot, so the only victim was the desert gravel.

          ‘What does that mean, Sarah?’ asked Roger, pointing to the bonnet.

          ‘Roughly, “breath of the dragon”.  I’m not quite sure about the grammar, but I like the sentiment.’

          ‘I don’t think Doctor Smith does.  He’s gone off to brood.’

          With a disdainful jerk of his thumb, Roger indicated the Doctor, sitting on a crate, looking deeply morose.

     Ah, what it is to have a moral compass.  Sometimes I even wish I had one.

Look Before You Leap

Ah yes, that Quora story.  The relater said he worked in a factory that made chairs, which were spray-painted in two spraying booths.  They were moved through the booth by an overhead conveyer, and there were two booths so one could be used whilst the other was being cleaned or serviced.

     The chap doing the spray-painting got fired, and management very stupidly did not escort him out of the building.  Next morning they find that the spray-guns in both booths were missing.  Art!

     That's four of these puppies, which cost about £500 each.  Management goes ballistic, call the cops, rush orders new spray guns and loses 3 days of chair production.  Then they move the spray booth into position -

     - and the old spray guns had been underneath it all the time.

     An Oooops! moment.

Right, that's us done. Ta ta!