In The Former -
One assumes that this is a military mission and that those involved will be one of the sneaky-peeky arms who sidle through the undergrowth keeping an eye on the bad guys, finding out how many there are, what they are doing and the inside leg measurements and shoe size of their OC. Art!
They only outnumbered him six to one, the poor unlucky sods. There are 17 members of the SBS hiding in this picture
Whereas 'Mission Creep' is where things get constantly added-to an original mission until it no longer resembles anything logical or planned or deliberate - the Galipolli invasion is a classic of this type, with aims and goals being continually added as an encrustation.
Here an aside. We normally laugh the Ruffians to scorn, but they have produced artistically gifted people, such as Lev Tolstoy, who wrote a short story on a similar theme, called "How Much Land Does A Man Require?" Here a greedy Ruffian called Pahom seeks to swindle the Bashkirs out of as much land as possible for as little as possible. They tell him, for ₽1,000, he can have as much land as he can walk around between dawn and dusk. Art!
He is continually seeing things he wants to claim as his own: more productive land, a copse of fruit trees, a perch pond, wild horses -
He ends up many versts from his origin and has to do an Usain Bolt back to the beginning before sunset, arriving back so exhausted that he drops dead.
And gets buried in a plot six feet long.
ANYWAY here we focus on a Youtube Reddit tale of mission creep and how it led to manglement taking both a hit and a bath. Original Poster had their warehouse inventory job down pat, so efficient that they were sitting bored, thumb-twiddling. Thus they took it upon themselves to become an expert in their ERP service (whatever that it). Everything was run via this service: Timesheets, HR, Payroll, Accounting, Scheduling, Delivery, Inventory - everything.
You can probably guess where this is going. Art!
Manglement were extremely happy, because by dumping responsibility on OP, they could save on a $5,000 per month retainer to an ERP-servicing company who charged $200 per hour to fix problems and took weeks to get around to solving said problem. Note that OP did all this on the side, didn't get any recognition and certainly didn't get any increase in pay. Mission creep, remember?
There now arrives a trifecta: a new warehouse manager, a warehouse inventory bodge bordering a million dollars and a problem in the ERP app thanks to an update.
Oooops.
OP focuses on the ERP problem, because if it's not fixed, people will not get paid. New Manager promptly storms into OP's office, shrieking like a banshee because he'd been blamed for the warehouse bodge job. Art!
He orders OP NOT to touch the ERP and only do his job.
OP asks for this in writing - at this point a competent manager would realise that something is wrong and backtrack. Not NM. O no. He doubled down and e-mailed OP that order not to touch ERP. Never to touch ERP. ERP was to remain an OP-virginal site.
Not a week later a problem with ERP prevents employees from being paid. HR contact OP and - he informs them he cannot help as per manglement orders. Nobody gets paid. The warehouse staff all walk out. The Vice President comes to see OP and tells him to solve the problem. Art!
OP says - No. Not unless he gets a raise, instead of doing the job for free. Why should he, when it's mission creep that saves the company a boatload of dollars? Another week rolls by with no pay, and the workers are getting mutinous. The VP storms off in a rage after OP refuses to fix stuff, and then e-mails everyone that he's contracted the old ERP-service company.
Sweet! He'd rather blow $60,000 that give OP a raise.
Actually the VP came back a day later with a new contract for OP, a big raise and a shame-faced admission that the other company would take weeks and weeks to get round to fixing the problem, by which time the company would be toast*.
The Man With The Golden Gun
No, nothing to do with James Bond. Rather, Volodymyr Zelensky.
Okay, there's this chap called Petr Pavel, who was one of the Czech Army's sneaky-peeky chaps, and who is now President of the Czech Republic. He's a big fan of Prez Zed, and thus had a functional gold-plated pistol made up for presenting to him. Art!
In his own words (and to up the word count): "As a sign of respect for their heroism, I presented Zelensky with the legendary CZ 75, serial no. 22. The Order of the White Lion edition captures the courage with which he stands at the head of Ukraine."
He's not wrong. Prez Zed is small in stature but ten feet tall in reputation. And now he has his own personal gun. Watch out Fun-Sized Foot Fiddler!
The Curious Case Of The Don In The Night
You know, that Sherlock Holmes trope where the unusual thing about the dog in the night was what it didn't do, which was unusual, and unusually so.
Yes, we are jumping right back into the E. Jean Carroll case in New York, where the legal teams have been delivering their summing-up today. We might see a verdict by tomorrow.
One notable absence has been DJ Satsuma, who has been careful not to go anywhere near the courthouse, even after Judge Kaplan gave him until 17:00 on Sunday to indicate if he was attending.
The silence from the Trump legal team was deafening. They didn't call any defence witnesses, which one unkind speculator said meant that they couldn't find anyone to say anything positive about Darth Marmalade. They didn't dare put him on the witness stand as nobody can tell how his mind works and what would come out of his mouth.
However - Art!
"She's not my type," stated The Donald. Then, looking at the photograph above, he misidentified E. Jean, at port, as his first wife. When this was pointed out, he claimed that the photo was 'blurry'. A facepalm-facepalm moment.
He's not dared to be on the witness stand so this testimony is all the jury have heard. Frankly, it's not good!
Edited to add: Yup, the jury found him guilty. Bring on a dustbin of popcorn to see his response**!
You What?
Just seen a BBC News sidebar with the following message and picture. Art!
"The Sea Of Sand"
The Doctor, Sarah and the TARDIS have all been re-united, but there are still several pages to go so things aren't quite settled yet.
‘Matters elsewhere kept me
busy. Which reminds me - ’
Under the eyes
of the two humans, he went about putting a particular critical information-set
into the science building’s equipment.
Having done that, he used the sonic screwdriver to shatter and destroy
the instrument panels, one after the other.
‘Time
to leave,’ he cautioned them.
Once
outside, he headed towards the TARDIS, leading Sarah and the Professor at a
moderate jog.
‘What’s
the hurry and where’s the fire?’ asked Sarah.
‘For your information, Doctor, I don’t want to do any more running in
the sand. Our truck gave up and died at
the line of tents out there and we had to sneak in on tiptoes.’
Suddenly,
as if struck by an idea from nowhere, the Doctor stopped.
‘What
is the hurry?’ he asked. Neither Sarah nor the Professor knew if this
was a rhetorical question, a question being asked of them or (in the case of
Sarah) a question being asked of the Time Lords. ‘No, I mean, where are all the bio-vores?’
asked the Doctor.
None
of the aliens were present in the complex.
From the middle distance a machine-gun began to fire, a stuttering
bang-bang-bang. Moments of silence
followed, then more gunfire, then silence again.
‘I think the rats have left the sinking ship,’ declared Sarah. She was more correct than she realised.
Finally -
As betokens my rock-and-roll lifestyle, I shall now have to go and sort laundry. Can it get any more exciting?
Probably. Chin chin!
* Actually it might be pasta. Creepy pasta.
** He'll appeal it all the way to the Supreme Court and then refuse to pay her.
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