Real Life 1 Art 0

Greetings, Gentle Readers!

As you should surely know by now, Your Humble Scribe's mind greatly resembles a gigantic skip full of rubbish, where the ferocious fermentation factor continually hurls material to the surface in an utterly unpredictable fashion.  Or, if you will, imagine a mud volcano composed of dirty data.

     How else can you explain the inexplicable popping up in my mind late last night, of "Garrison's Gorrilas"?  Art!

     Here a disclaimer: I have never seen it.  Moreover, I don't think it's been broadcast in the UK since the late Sixties or early Seventies, when Parental Control Of The Television at the time meant there was 0% chance of Young Conrad casting his eyeballs o'er it.

     It was pretty obviously inspired by that film "The Dirty Dozen", since both entities had prisoners being recruited from South Canadian  prisons to carry out desperate missions behind enemy lines.  Now, TDD I have seen, quite often.  Conrad remembers one critic described it as "A caper film loaded with violence", which is pretty accurate.  Art!

     You couldn't assemble a cast like that nowadays*.
     ANYWAY since we seem to be going off at a tangent, let us explore it a little more comprehensively.  The film is based on a novel by E.M. Nathanson, which Your Humble Scribe has, of course - obviously! - read.  Art!

     Tut tut, cover artist.  If you hold your M3 'Grease Gun' by the magazine like that, you'll cause a jam, sin

     ANYWAY Conrad has to say that the film is a lot more entertaining than the novel, which goes into exhaustive background as regards the criminal GIs recruited to do or die (preferably the latter), and the crimes that put them in a military prison, and the extensive training they undergo, etcetera etcetera.  It basically ends " - and then they carried out the mission and most of them died, The End".  Art!

O dearie me.  I've found a free full version in English on Youtube.  I guess that determines what I'll be watching Friday evening.

     Nathanson, an editor involved in magazine publishing, had heard a whisper that there had been a real-life Dirty Dozen yet he never managed to find a source for the rumour, despite two years of digging.  Conrad, on the other hand, is convinced that he read a psychologist's preçis on the subject, whom stated that his analysis proved that recruiting Dirties by the Dozen made for poor soldiers. Art!

     We, living in Nathanson's future, are only too well acquainted with prisoners being recruited to carry out desperate missions in enemy territory.  Priggy, when he was still breathing, sent prisoners by the tens of thousands to their death in order to conquer Bakhmut, after recruiting them straight out of penal colonies.  Believe me, the most modern of Ruffian prisons makes the worst Victorian incarceries look like models of decorum and sweetness.

     ANYWAY let us swerve back onto Garrison and his Gorillas.  Rather than an unlucky thirteen (because Lee Marvin's character made it to that number), they numbered five: Lieutenant Garrison himself; Actor, Chief, Casino and Goniff.  Art!

     Actor was the smooth-talking con man, Casino was their safe-cracking mechanic, Goniff was a cat burglar and Chief was capital if you wanted to slice or stab someone into the Underworld.  They occasionally brought in special 'talent' for specific jobs.

     What Conrad found most interesting was that the episodes were supposedly set in different years as the Second Unpleasantness progressed: 1941, 1942, 1943 and 1944.  They couldn't have gotten up to much in 1941, as South Canada only got into the war with 23 days of the year left.  Perhaps it was an 'origins' episode that also dealt with their recruitment?  They might also have been able, if they flew, to arrive in North Africa during the British winter offensive there.

     Of course, I could be over-thinking this ...

Cockroach, Meet My 500 Watt Bulb

Conrad, busily scoffing his porridge this morning before work, came across a clip from Times Radio on Youtube, which does sound like an oxymoron I admit, yet bear with me.  Art!

     This is Robert 'Bob' Weiner, a South Canadian political worker at the White House over several decades, serving both Republican and Democrat administrations.  He was giving a short interview on Times Radio, O I say, he was feisty!  None of the subdued, understated British politician's approach to the media.  He made no secret that he believes Donald Buck to be a veritable blot on the escutcheon of South Canadian political life, which, taken out of the realms of flowery euphemisms, means that he detests DJ Tango.  Art!

     "Ah," I hear you say.  "A courthouse. Yes.  And?"

     As Ol' Bob pointed out, Citizen Trump is due to be tried in a Georgia state court, and he is wriggling like an electrocuted eel in trying to get the trial switched to the above, a Federal courthouse.

     Why is this?

     BECAUSE THERE ARE NO CAMERAS IN A FEDERAL COURTHOUSE TRIAL.

     For all his desperate desire to be on television, appearing in a court on trial for potentially weeks and weeks has a very bad optic to it.

     Watch this space.

Let's Just Rub A Little More Salt And Lemon Juice Into That Wound

Because who doesn't want to rub the failure of Luna-25 into Bloaty Gas Tout's face like an grapefruit, just as Jimmy Cagney does in that memorable scene.  Art!

I wonder how many takes it needed?

     Okay, let us prod Art into a state of semi-sentience with this handy boar-spear 

     Altogether now: A WHOLE LOT MORE THAN LUNA-25!

     Less flippantly, that picture above is the Chandrayaan-3 probe, taken by Pragyaan, the Indian rover unit.  The rover itself has been busy analysing the lunar regolith and discovered the following elements: sulphur, aluminium, calcium, iron, chromium, manganese, silicon, oxygen -"

     And titanium, which is excellent news for the Arcology lunar miners of -

"City In The Sky"

Ace is about to meet one of the Arcology's engineers, and is feeling a little apprehensive.

     If by “engineer” Ace expected to encounter a boiler-suited, oily-handed man clutching a spanner in one hand, a welding torch in the other and misogynistic rererences to gender and Page Three, she was to be disappointed.  The engineer who arrived at Lichfield was male, no older than herself, had a miniature Walkman glued into his ears and boasted freckles and ginger hair.  He looked her up and down in frank astonishment before remembering his voice.

     ‘Helloo there!’ he beamed at her.  ‘Yer new here, aren’t ye?  Dinna worry, gel, yer in good hands.  Ah’m Alex.’

     ‘Ace.’

     ‘Aye, that A’yam.  Whit’s yer name?’

     ‘Ace.’

     ‘Oh!’ he exclaimed, all trace of the Scottish accent gone.  ‘Oh.  Sorry, I put my foot into it, didn’t I?’

     ‘Size Ten, Rubber Sole,’ deadpanned the young woman.  ‘What’s with the fake accent?’

     Alex ran a hand through his hair and grinned before answering.

     ‘You’re something absolutely unhear of - a new face!  Someone to impress with my background.  I am from Edinburgh, you know, and they bray on endlessly about being Scottish and retaining the heritage.  And if they don’t, then Dundee will.’

     It took a second or two for Ace to realise that he referred to Arcology One’s miniature townships or villages, whatever they were called, and definitely not the real cities.

     It's all about the perspective.

Did Someone Say "Zombie"?

Art!

     This is the Prime Minister of Perfidious Albion, apparently being instructed in the best way to defend against an attack by the walking dead, with Zombie Knives.  Obviously - of course! - these are excellent for close-in work (the Chief would approve) because they are silent, have no moving parts, do not need electrical power cable or batteries, don't need ammunition and can be used to whittle if things have gone quiet.

     Of course, I could be over-thinking this ...

Finally -

Today will be an odd day.  I can't get time off to attend a funeral but will be raising a glass in remembrance later in the evening.  Hurry on sundown.

*  Wait for the Hollywood all-female 're-imagining'!