How Very Apt!

Greetings, Gentle Readers

Conrad here, to entertain, amuse and terrify you all in the same sentence, because "Atom-Bombing The Moon" will become a thing when I take over.

     Here's a progress report: I am now 451 pages into "Jonathan Strange And Mr. Norrell", to the point that the Napoleonic wars have ended with the Allies triumphant and the Corsican Ogre utterly defeated.  Jonathan Strange had been occupied with the campaigns in Portugal and Spain, working directly for the Duke Of Wellington.  Art!

     This is a contemporary painting of the Battle of Salamanca, which is mentioned in the novel and which, rather to my surprise and satisfaction, took place on 22nd July; in other words, exactly 211 years ago.  Conrad rather doubts that any of you out there bar wargamers and fellow military anoraks like him will have ever heard of it, but it was a very important clash of arms indeed.  Art!

Naughty Jonathan also conjured up some French zombies

     "Why was it important, O White-Haired Wonder?" I hear you quibble.

     O I thought you'd never ask!

     For one thing, it proved that Wellington could wage a battle of manoeuvre, whereas previously his successes had all been on the defensive.  His own army, of British, Portuguese and Spanish, was of the same size as the French Army, so there was no superiority in numbers, either.

     

     The French general in charge, Marshal Marmont, made a critical mistake before the battle began, seeking to outflank what he thought was a small British rear-guard.   The DoW was not the kind of commander to make such an error in front of, and he attacked the French whilst they were strung out and seeking to redeploy.

     Oops.

     Matters were made worse for the French when an exploding cannonball injured Marmont and his second-in-command early in the battle, and rendered their army leaderless for a good hour.  Again, this is the sort of misfortune you do not want to undergo in front of the DoW.

     Instead of flanking the British, the French were themselves flanked, losing 15,000 casualties in dead, wounded and prisoners.  Their army fled the field and the British (and Porks and Spanish) liberated Madrid, which they held for two months.  Art!

University of Salamanca

     Allow me to put a quote in here and up the word count: "This battle is the most cleverly fought, the largest in scale, the most important in results, of any that the English have won in recent times."  Which is from a French commander.  He says 'English' when he means 'British' but we can overlook that because we're the bigger man.

     Okay, so on this day 211 years ago the Duke of Wellington proved that 'The Spanish Ulcer' was going to keep embarrassing Nappy by costing him dearly in soldiers.

     BOOJUM!  Educating you one factoid at a time.  And you're welcome.

Tricky Old Dog Is - Tricky

Yes indeedy Ally Sheedy.  As you ought to be aware, because I've clucked about it enough, Your Humble Scribe managed to get his Bush external DVD drive to work with his large-screen monitor, thus allowing me to bask in the glory that was "Zombie Apocalypse".  It's not every day you get to see a zombie tiger slain with a sledgehammer.

     ANYWAY - Art!

Ignore the reflection!  Ignore the reflection!

     "Will it work with CDs?" I pondered, and here is proof that it does, indeed, work with music DVDs.  I am now playing "White Lunar" by Drake and Ellis.  That last track sounded verrrrry familiar, so much so that I've probably seen the film it was on the soundtrack of.  Or I'm completely delusional and the gin is typing.  Raspberry-flavoured, since you ask.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

"The Daily Beast" has a faintly ridiculous item on Donald Trump's hair, which seems to have been composed for a dare.  It takes up hundreds of words when it could be limited to a single long paragraph.  Art!

     They mean that he's had scalp-reduction surgery, which is done to decrease the amount of bald skin on the head.  So, he has a large bald patch, fringed by hair, which he combs over and then sprays into concrete submission.  The reason his hair colours vary from light-orange to brown are because he's too impatient to let his hair dye do it's job.

     There you go, TDB, that's how you define 'Succinct'.  And I'd argue that it's a surgically decreased head.

"City In The Sky"

Our intrepid time-travellers are now present in Arcology One, to the extreme surprise of the locals, who  have seen the TARDIS de-materialise upon one of their hydroponic greens.

 ‘We have several, the Deputy Founders.  Why do you ask?’ asked the Chinese woman.

     ‘I understand that a terrible conflict is breaking out on Earth and I’d like to discuss it with someone – anyone - in authority.’

     ‘You talk as if this is news to you,’ opined the big man.

     ‘We’ve been out of town,’ tried Ace, to a skeptical laugh from the adults.

     ‘There’s usually one of the Founders in the Communications building these days,’ said the dark-haired woman.  She produced a small electronic keypad and pressed a red button near the top.

     ‘Who are you?’ asked one of the teenaged girls, shyly.

     ‘I am the Doctor.  This is Ace.’

     ‘Pleased t’meecha,’ said Ace, throwing a mock-salute.

     ‘And where do you come from?’ asked the big man.

     ‘Questions, questions!’ grumbled the Doctor.  ‘I come from Gallifrey.  Ace comes from London.’

     ‘Perivale, actually,’ she added, for veracity.  None of these space-peasants seemed exactly welcoming or trustful.   She couldn’t blame them, not really – seeing and hearing the Tardis appear from thin air would probably make them just the teensiest bit suspicious.

      ‘Who the hell are you!’ asked another voice.  Both travellers turned to see a lanky woman wearing a coverall that had silvered armbands, walking briskly towards them on the plastic pathway.  ‘And how did you get here – and what the – a police box?’

        Yep, you don't see many of those knocking around in outer space. 

The Blades Of DEATH!

I know, I know, it sounds like a 'Doctor Who' title from the Seventies.  Or a cheap and nasty 'Halloween' knock-off featuring a killer who murders with ice-skates by sl

    ANYWAY it actually refers to another in our series looking at Power Tools As Misused By Fools, and it refers to  -

    Lawnmowers.  Art!

     It's pretty irrelevant if the blades are sharp or not, as they spin at up to 3,000 revs per min and, blunt or not, will easily remove fingers.  They can also project any rocks or stones picked up and hurl them with sufficient force to break bones.

     Don't forget Peter Jackson's 'Braindead' where Our Hero takes out the zombie horde with -

     - a Black & Decker cordless.

     I shouldn't have to say this but I know what Hom. Sap. are like so DO NOT ATTEMPT TO COPY THIS!

Finally -

Going back to Citizen Trump, apparently his legal team are now advising him that the only way he is going to stay out of prison is by winning the 2024 election and becoming Prez again.  This might work for federal crimes, but it won't stop state criminal proceedings, as is the case in Georgia, where a grand jury has been empanelled and is probably sitting in judgement even as I type.

     Conrad - whom we all know is graceless, charmless and tasteless - suggested a while back that the most fool-proof method of avoiding a Supermax is to either fake senility, which wouldn't require much acting, or of dropping down dead due to stress, anxiety and hypertension.  Art!

IT'S EATING HIS HEAD!

 Finis.