The Golden Hoard

Conrad Narrowed His Eyes, Menacingly

Or at least he hoped it looked menacing, and not as if he was suffering a rather nasty migraine.  BECAUSE! today's title is not a mis-spelling, it is an hilarious pun I tell you, HILARIOUS LAUGH OR DIE BE STRUCK WITH A MILD LURGY.

     We shall very probably have to do an aside here, because not all of you are going to be familiar with that historical phenomenon known as "The Golden Horde".  Briefly put, this was part of the Mongol Empire when it was at it's peak, ruling over Siberia, Central Asia and into Eastern Europe.  Art!

O!  Well, now that this is here -

    Hmmmm yes, I shall forbear Tazing Art into a twitching ball of convulsions  -this time - to mention that the Mongols under Genghis Khan were a mighty and much-feared opponent, initially thanks to their cavalry base and later on when they expanded tactically to encompass siege warfare.  Nor were they gentle or forgiving when waging war; their intent was to crush the opposition in the shortest time possible as effectively as possible, and if that meant they massacred the population of a defiant city, then that's what it took.  They were also well aware that the next city they came up against would be a lot less defiant.  Art!

"Can I go pick some flowers?"

     As for the Platinum Horde - they were the spacefaring warriors of Karbonggia, who trashed a path across the universe, discovering too late that spacetime is curved and they'd come full circle and destroyed their own homeworld.  One of 2000AD's typically anarchic takes on m

     ANYWAY none of that has to do with today's real Intro, which is kind of about that salient male characteristic of never throwing anything out, because "It may come in useful".  Original Poster told how she allowed Carl to live with her after he was down on his luck, partially thanks to him being a well-scrubbed handyman who wielded a sense of humour.  Art!

     Carl had two repellent adult offspring, Blart and Blurt, who had more interest in their collective ear-wax than their dad; they refused to contact him and were cuttingly short when he contacted them.

     Then! Carl died suddenly and unexpectedly.  Equally suddenly, Blurt called, wanting to know about Carl's life-insurance as she and Blart were the beneficiaries.  Shortly after she called back and informed OP that, as Carl had died intestate, she and he were now the beneficiaries, which included Carl's second-hand car.  Used, but still better than her clunker.  Art!

Grasping much?

     Blurt informed OP that she'd be doing a walk-through of her house to ensure none of Carl's stuff that she wanted would be missed.  NO YOU'RE NOT! delicately informed OP.  Blurt then deliberately avoided telling OP where and when Carl's funeral was - this comes into play later - whilst emphasising that she so, so wanted that car of Carl's.

     OP then explained that Carl was a hoarder, which is where today's title comes from, and a mechanically-inclined one at that.  She listed his miscellania: four cathode-ray tube televisions; six tool boxes; eight computers; two barbecues; a drill press; a band saw; six stereo systems; one-hundred and ninety-eight metal boxes of parts; and the piece de resistance, a five-ton metal lathe.  Art!

None of your namby-pamby hand-held tool boxes

A Drill Press

Industrial lathe

     All this kit was stored in Carl's garage.  OP, slyer than a collection of foxes, parked his car at the back of her garage and over a fortnight moved all the kit in behind the car.  It was only just visible over the mass of boxes and items.
     When Blart and Blurt came to get the car, they had to hire professional movers to shift all the kit and it still took all day.  The lathe alone took four people and a special heavy-duty tow-truck to move.  It cost them $14,000 for the movers alone, plus the cost of hiring at least one storage unit (one of the movers said there was far too much kit for a single unit).  Possibly another $500 depending on how long it took to get rid of the hoard.

     

     Yeah, about that funeral -  It turns out OP had a large funeral fund she'd saved up over 10 years to pay for Carl's goodbye ceremony.  Thanks to Blart and Blurt, she had no opportunity to use it for the funeral, so she paid off her mortgage with it, meaning they had to pay for the funeral, too.  Thus they might be as much as $25,000 out of pocket.
     Of course I cannot be possibly be accused of hoarding.  O no.  Not me.

     IGNORE THAT!  IGNORE THAT!

     Quick, nurse, the screens .....

Quick, Worse, The Screams -

Yes, more statistical economics that kind of knock a stake into the collective heart of the Ruffian economy.  Data thanks to Joe Blogs and his vlog about Ruffia's ailing finances.  Let us be clear - the data Joe bases his analyses on are straight from the Ruffian Ministry Of Finance, not dubious dark web stats dumps or social media pundits.  This instantly shoots down those who accuse him of inflating or massaging the figures.  Mind you, one has to take the MoF info with a large chunk of sodium chloride, too.  Art!

     Balance Of Trade: Or, the difference between the revenue of a nation's exports versus the cost of a nation's imports.  Ideally one wants to see this value as high as possible, showing a healthy surplus.  Yes, well -

August 2022 = ₽25 billion

July 2023 = ₽5 billion

     Thus a drop of 78% solely due to sanctions, unless one listens to professional idiot Dmitri Peskov, who claims it's because of Venus interacting with swamp gas over the Siberian tundra.  This level of BoT is akin to trading during the very worst of Covid and is a very, very bad sign.  Art!

₽120,000 worth

     Current Account: What might be called 'Left Over Cash' that allows the state to carry out various funding or investment initiatives.  Yes, well -

January 2021= ₽ 66,485 billion

July 2022 = ₽ 76,700 billion

July 2023 = ₽ 9,562 billion

     So this year the amount has fallen to 12.5% of last years balance, which is another overt disaster.  This severe lack of cash means that the Ruffian Central Bank cannot afford to prop up the ruble by squandering money by the billion.  Art!

Why so SERIOUS!

The Beast Is At It Again

After a long Intro and equally long economic skewer, we need a very short item, and here it is.  Art!

Courtesy "The Daily Beast"

     Yet another of their much-lauded collection of cheap tat, even if I've no idea what this actually is, apart from looking vaguely rude.  NO, I cannot simply go click on the item and discover, that would be cheating.

"City In The Sky"

Ah, the romance of a stroll through an Australian city!  Well, what's left of it after a generation of abandonment and neglect.

The trio walked slowly north, keeping to the middle of the delapidated road.  Giant stands of weeds had taken over the gutters, long clogged with earth.  Big stagnant ponds loomed, green and lifeless, across the roadway where rains had gathered and stayed.  Small animals whispered unseen amongst the long reeds and grasses, making random splashes.

     Ace nudged Alex, who looked nervous.

     ‘You look a bit pasty.  Anything up?’

     He swallowed and gestured at the city centre.

     ‘I’ve never seen anything as big as those buildings.  They must easily be three or four kilometres high!  All this flora allowed to grow anywhere, without planning.     And something keeps touching my hair!’

     Their progress was interrupted by the Doctor, who came to an abrupt halt, putting his umbrella up and holding it horizontally in front of him as a parabolic reflector.

     ‘Expect company, from behind,’ he warned them, causing all three to turn and face south along the ragged, overgrown road.

     The muted clatter of hoofbeats came to them, a sound muffled by the weeds and shrubs and drifts of earth across the ruined tarmac, until a mounted man came trotting into view astride a big bay mare.  Of possible concern was his uniform, blue woollen serge with a white belt and a dark bush hat, almost shouting  “Police”.  A long firearm nestled in a big leather holster on the horse’s flank.

     Typical.  You arrive from orbit and the first thing you do is get a parking ticket.

Have You Seen This Man?

Johnny Miller pretends to be a British journalist.  In fact he works directly for the Ruffians, saying whatever they pay him to say, and in his time off he works for the equally repellent Iranian regime.

     But enough of politics!  For Ol' John was knocking around the port of Sevastopol in September when Stormzy demolished the Black Sea Flotilla's HQ.  He didn't film the site being turned into rubble, but he did upload his take on what was happening to Twitter.

     Ooooops.  Art!

      Johnny hasn't been seen since.  Everything on his Twitter account after September 19th had been deleted.  It appears that the official Ruffian line that NOTHING HAPPENED is being enforced quite diligently.  Twitter being what it is, a whole lot of people are gloating about his vanishing, pretending that he actually worked for MI6 in real life, which the FSB (being humourless literal-minded twods) will see as justification for him being imprisoned for 7 years.

     CAUTION! DO NOT CONFUSE WITH - Art?

     Johnny Lee Miller, in probably his finest moment - "Elementary", a modern take on yes, Sherlock Holmes, but done well, especially the kendo practice whilst wearing an egg on the top of his helmet, and Lucy L

     ANYWAY watch this space.

Finally -

Better go sample that pea-and-ham stew Wonder Wifey threw together, and there's a pizza with my name on it in the fridge.