To what am I referring? Why, nothing but yesteryon's blog which had the Intro theme of 'Thunder' and what do I omit? Yes, that's right: International Rescue, whose exploits have been immortalised as "Thunderbirds", which gives me the perfect excuse to bring up a picture of said program. Art!
The program is almost 60 years old and is still immensely popular amongst the more discriminating viewers, as well as horrid old curmudgeons like Conrad, who liked it when things EXPLODED.
You would have to have been living on the Moon not to know the central plot outline for TBs but in the interests of adding to the word count, let us elucidate. Art!
This is Jeff Tracy, head of the family - we never hear what happened to his wife - and the driving force behind International Rescue. It was he who came up with the idea of a M'aidez Sans Frontieres, with enough financial clout to make it happen. People have questioned how a humble astronaut got so wealthy, which is easily explained; he saved up all the money from recycling cans of pop. With the scientific genius of Hiram Hackenbacker to provide technical know-how, because everyone needs a Brains in their organisation, things began to take shape. Art!
Here's the glamour-boy Scott, who got dibs on flying IR's ultra-high speed recon VTOL craft. In earlier iterations of BOOJUM! Conrad used to add another figure to it's top speed every time it was mentioned, so it's up to about Mach 32 by now. Art!
Conrad has unflatteringly described Ol' Virge as a 'flying truck-driver', as he has the less-than-spiffing role of being just that. It makes a brilliant toy, mind and I have one of them knocking around the Sekrit Layr somewhere. Also, IR's missions would be near-impossible to execute without the big green bogey. Art!
For when you absolutely, definitely, unequivocally have to be able to get into orbit, or a quick trip to Mars or the Moon. Alan likes to live dangerously; you can tell because he doesn't bother with a space-suit and that hat looks like it would come adrift in microgravity. You didn't see a lot of T3 as it has a bit of a niche function. Art!
Another niche function, yet it was great to see T2 dropping a Pod onto the briny deeps, watching the water splash up as T4 powered down. Because when you have to work underwater, you have to work underwater, and you need the tools for the job. Don't forget, the greater part of the Earth's surface is covered by water. Art!
Probably the hardest job of all: Space Monitor. Completely alone for months on end, with no face-to-face contact, and at best hours and hours away from rescue by T3 if anything goes badly wrong - like a significant meteor impact or appendicitis. Johnny Boy probably works a 12-hour on, 12-hour off shift, with automatic alarms to wake him if things go pear-shaped. Art!
Yes, this is Tracy Island. Jeff had the sense to have all International Rescue's equipment carefully hidden away from inquisitive or prying eyes. Not that there would be many; the man owns his very own island in the Pacific Ocean and need not fear an invasion of day-trippers wielding flippers and boom-boxes. One suspects that provisions come by sea in very large quantities, so the need for a vessel mooring offshore is minimised. Or, perhaps, flown in?
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| "Dog Buns, Brains! How could we run out of caviar? Get Fortnums to courier it in by jet!" |
That's a quick run-down of IR, and by an amazing coincidence an item popped up on Quora to do with - Art!
The "Thunderbird Hotel" had a casino attached, and on their opening night, BY AN AMAZING COINCIDENCE, two poker players won $350,000, which the hotel could not pay. They came up $20,000 short. So they went to Mafia guy Meyer Lansky for the excess, and that was the end of their business involvement. Art!
There's also these chaps of the South Canadian Air Force Demonstration team, who have the temerity to call themselves "Thunderbirds" which demonstrates a fair bit of brass neck.
Behold!
After many years of neglect, Conrad is once again putting his ice-cream machine to good use. Yesteryon, inspired by getting hold of a load of remaindered raspberries, I made Raspberry And Yoghurt ice cream, an old favourite. Art!
I substitute half the sugar with Canderel. My old trick of adding a couple of spoonfuls of vodka doesn't work as effectively as with a purely sugar-based recipe, and it was a minor struggle to scoop it out. Worth it, though.
More Mendacious Money
We've not featured anything about Donald Judas Trump's media and technology group stock price, mostly because it recovered from it's low point of about $30 per share, and got up into the fifties. Well, that recovery may be over. Art!
The risk here is that the price drop will encourage short-sellers to buy up stock in anticipation of the price continuing to fall. Also Pumpkinhead might have a rage-induced heart attack at all the money he's not going to get, which is a risk I'm willing to take.
Yes, I am a terrible person. We knew that already.
"City In The Sky"
I have now worked out that Blogger won't let me retrospectively change a font colour, so I now have to select 'Fuschia' before typing words out. O the humanity.
When we last left them, Ace and Captain Kirwin were struggling to get an anti-aircraft missile into working order, because they have seconds before being turned into charcoal.
Kirwin realised there must be a malfunction in the sight unit. Probably something very minor that could be fixed in minutes, a loose wire, a dislodged battery, a logic paradox, except they had seconds, not minutes, to act.
She
realised the solution immediately. Eight hundred metres.
‘Ace, the
sight unit’s non-functional. I’m going
to talk you onto target, okay?’
‘Your
funeral,’ replied the young woman, shrugging her shoulders with such a
devil-may-care attitude that Kirwin felt it even if she couldn’t see it.
‘I’m twelve
o’clock, okay?’
‘Gotcha.’
‘Target is
at one thirty.’
Ace
oriented herself to an invisible clock face.
‘Height –
up to a three storey building.’ Three hundred metres.
Ace lofted
the massy weapon to what she imagined was the top of the Barclay’s Bank in Neasden.
‘Fire!’
called Kirwin.
Ace
realised she didn’t know which was the “Fire” button or trigger or switch, then
pressed the large red button close to her right thumb, a button that closed
with a positive snap.
Did I get
it right?
The missile
fired, more than fired, it went off with a BANG! that left both women
temporarily deaf whilst the backblast threw up a storm of debris that would
have shredded Ace’s black nylons, were she wearing them.
We'll see if she got it right tomorrow.
"Catapult"
I just thought you might like to know that this word derives from the Greek 'Katapeltes', itself compiled from "Kata" meaning "Down" and "Pullein" meaning "Hurl". Art!
I don't think this was clarified in my Intro of two years ago. Now we all know more than we did five minutes ago.
"The War Illustrated Edition 188"
There seems to be a more significant delay between publication date and the original date photographs were taken, possibly for reasons of operational security. Art!
There's quite a bit to unpack here if you know what to look for. That cargo bed at bottom is full of containers holding PIAT bombs, and you can see a PIAT lying on it's side. Art!
This was the British army's principal anti-tank weapon for infantry and was a variety of spigot mortar.
The second vehicle appears to be carrying rolls of wire and given that it's not barbed wire, it's probably signal wire for telephones. Telephones, you see, are far harder to eavesdrop than radios, and are unaffected by atmospherics.
Further back you can see a 'Don R' or Despatch Rider sitting on his motorbike and wondering how to get through this clot of traffic. Alongside him is one of the ubiquitous South Canadian M3 half-tracks.
What don't you see here? Dispersion or camouflage. It's good weather, sunny and dry by virtue of the dust thrown up at the rear of this column, yet nobody is keeping a safe distance apart, nor are the vehicles covered with branches. Ergo, nobody is fearful of the Luftwaffe showing up. Art!
The Teuton equivalent. Note the 'Luki-luki' chap keeping his eyes peeled as his mobile bush trundles along.
Finally -
About time I got downstairs and made some food vanish. Chin Chin!
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