Only Now Can It Be Told -
In a statement made on state-controlled television at 07:35 this morning, Kremlin military spokesman for the Defence Ministry, Igor Konashenkov, stated that Russia had officially annexed the 'decadent and anarchy-ridden' state of Narnia, which is 'noted for it's extensive natural resources.'
 |
| "Here we see the proto-capitalist feudal exploiters themselves" |
President Putin, in a filmed insert, described the country as a 'Tool of Western imperialism', 'A boil on the borders of Holy Mother Russia,' and 'Rich in natural resources,'.
 |
| "No, no, no - it's water, I tell you. Water!" |
Dmitry Peskov, senior Press Secretary, said that the Russian mission in Narnia was to overthrow the hereditary reign of unelected aristocrats who exploited the peasantry, and to establish a modern-nation state, as well as to extinguish millennia of superstition and pagan idolatry, and that the country's vast natural resources would exploited in a modern techno-industrial manner.
It is reported that units of the VDV and Naval Marine Infantry have already captured the capital of Cair Paravel and mobile columns are already heading further inland.
The occupation authorities have issued a list of guidelines for natives, as follows:
i) All animals are edible.
ii) Talking animals will be sent to re-education pens to learn Russian.
iii) English is forbidden as a spoken or written language as it comes from an insignificant little island that is also Satan In National Form.
 |
| These transgressors will be punished severely |
iv) Talking bear cubs will be re-located in order to more closely accord with Russian language.
v) Lions are forbidden.
 |
| BANNED |
vi) A binding, permanent, non-aggression pact is to be signed with the sovereign nation-state of Calormen.
 |
| Note lack of defensible borders |
vii) ALL mythical creatures are actually NATO spies and will be incarcerated, bar centaurs who can serve as draught animals, hauling Russian supplies or guns.
viii) Magic is forbidden.
 |
| NOT PERMITTED |
ix) Witches are forbidden UNLESS operating as auxiliaries of Rosgvardia with signed certification from the local FSB office.
x) Talking animals masquerading as dumb animals will be treated as spies working for MI6 and the CIA, on penalty of barbequeing.
xi) The Stone Table will be re-located to a site in Moscow city centre as a triumphal display.
 |
| Obviously, this will require substantial foundation-work* |
xii) Cyrillic will become the official alphabet of Narnia, with compulsory education in all academic institutions, with a list of handy phrases hung on all government buildings, public houses, market squares and windmills.
xiii) The twenty-four hour clock system will be adopted.
ixv) Cair Paravel will be under curfew from 23:00 to 05:00.
xv) Washtubs and outhouses are considered to be legitimate spoils of war and citizens are required to allow confiscation.
 |
| Inherently valuable |
xvi) Mention of a
Russian television presenter Vladimir Solovyov expressed gratitude that Russia had managed to pre-empt NATO and the West and the EU and Japan and South Korea and Australia and New Zealand in protecting Narnia's 'wide range of natural resources' from being plundered and despoiled.
 |
| "I can now replace my Italian villa with a Narnian one!" |
Reports that the armed forces of Middle Earth are on high alert cannot be confirmed.
Grasping Groynes
First of all, WASH OUT YOUR FILTHY MINDS! Secondly, learn to spell. Conrad is talking about beach defences, not crotches. Art!
There's a whatever the collective noun for a load of groynes is. The word comes from the Old French 'Groign', meaning 'snout'.
Conrad has long known that they are there as a beach defence to prevent erosion, and always wondered why they were placed perpendicular to the beaches. Surely they ought to be along the beach axis?
Well, no. You see, coastal erosion tends to take place parallel to the beachfront, moving sands along the coast. Art!
As you can see from the diagram above, the groynes intercept the sand carried by the current and prevent it from being carried away.
I'm Being A Borer -
About "Tora! Tora! Tora!". Sorry, but there it is. I took lots of photographs so you're going to get the benefit of all of them, there's just no getting around it. Art!
This chap, blasting away with a machine gun, is based on a real person and real events. Say hello to Chief Ordnanceman John Finn. During the rest of the film, when it cuts back to him he's more dishevelled each time, because in real life Finn was injured - 21 times. He didn't stop shooting until the attack was over, two hours later, downing one plane and winning himself the Medal of Honour, an award not given away in cereal packets.
The gun he's firing is a 0.50 Browning; there's an ammunition box with the info printed onto it, which isn't quite legible here. He's already taken belts of ammo out of the can, ready to load. The gun itself is an anti-aircraft version of the usual gun, with special sights, given a water jacket to allow sustained firing, and it's been tuned up to about 600 r.p.m. instead of the usual 450.
It's not a speaking part and he's not given any credits, but it shows how determined the producers were to be accurate. Art!
Indestructible Captain Finn
Blue For You
As you should surely know, Conrad got a 'Ginfusion' bottle in February, and had a go at infusing gin with Orange And Cardamoms. It worked, although the orange tended to drown out the cardamoms, which wasn't a bad thing, since they hinted more of medicine than spices. Art!
Meet the blueberry iteration. Conrad admits he cheated a bit here and impaled a few berries with a skewer to get the blue colouration. We shall have to leave it for at least a week to see how it turns out. Chin chin!
"The Sea Of Sand"
Our gallant band of human survivors are licking their wounds and assessing the situation, and it doesn't look very inspiring.
Roger looked
at his fellow survivors and soldiers.
Dusty, pale-faced, salt-encrusted and unutterably weary. Not counting Davey, in even worse condition
than the rest of them. Torrevechio had
picked up soot and smoke from the flamthrower, leaving only his goggle-covered
eyes clean in a filthy face.
How unfair was
all this! The lieutenant silently snarled.
Corporal Mickleborough, Captain Dobie, all the other dead garrison
soldiers. They were members of the RASC,
not men who did the fighting. They
supplied the men who did the fighting.
Fighting was down to other people, other folk who put their lives on the
line, not the pen-pushing, crate-carrying men of the RASC.
‘As I see it,’
he began, ‘We are not in a good
position. There are only eight of us
left alive, and only seven effectives.
Whilst we repelled the last enemy attack, I don’t think we can survive
another.’
‘You don’t know another attack will come,’ stated
Professor Templeman with considerable emphasis.
‘You aren’t gifted with a crystal ball.’
‘No. I don’t
know. But I do have a very well-informed
speculative sense.’
Roger pointed
at the wreck of the knocked-out bio-vore vehicle.
‘I’ve been
over to look at that monstrous chariot.
The other ones that got hit by armour-piercing shot flew apart in a
cloud of fragments. That one remained intact,
as you can see.’
Silence
settled whilst the audience waited for an explanation.
The bio-vores are aliens, not stupid.
Finally -
Tonight is the night of the big shop, and I need to sort out a recipe for Ukrainian borshcht, so that's it for today!
* Bids and tenders to the Ministry Of Internal affairs
No comments:
Post a Comment