Weekend live [2]

10. From Chuckles:

9. This is worth posting on, if only because Microdave has sent it but before that, some background.

You may or may not know it’s been raining near incessantly here but we do get spells without it.  Thursday was one, I did not get down to the boat early enough, I’m at a stage it needs two to lift some pillars.  That’s fine, we arranged Friday – pouring all day.

OK, we arranged today.  Approaching the agreed time, he’d appeared, I nipped into the loo, came out, nowhere to be seen, not answering phone.  Dry all day. Tomorrow I have visitors, Monday will rain.  I think you get the idea.

Let’s leave that one because I was able to after a couple of hours. Lightening up a bit, I put up some comedy and music. One of our team sent something I just wasn’t in the mood for – some dancing dog or whatever.

Then a friend wrote in a great mood.  Groan.  Then Microdave chipped in too.  I’ll show you that in a few minutes. Maybe I shouldn’t, maybe I shouldn’t bring you down as I did my friend.  Usually, people do not get under my guard or at least I regroup fairly quickly after it but this bozo today rankles.

And the point of this post now?  It’s this: Illegitimi non carborundum.  Also, never let them see you bleed.

Quick Draw McGraw on Oprah years ago had a set of Lifelaws and one was don’t let anyone else direct how you feel.  Someone’s having a good day, along comes some bstd and ruins it.  Then every other person that day gets the fallout.  That cannot be, that must not happen.

In my headmaster days, it was essential that something which happened in one, say, twenty minute slot was not visited upon the next person to be seen – there’s a certain expectation that one will stay above petty vicissitudes.  It’s not natural though – someone you’ve just had an almighty contretemps with goes off and the next person is a prospective parent in bubbly mood.  You need to suppress the last twenty minutes and bubble along during the next.

Which is dissembling.

So no, I’m NOT running the silly dog thing, I’ll run Microdave’s instead:

Jobsworths, Common Purpose, this is Britain and the USA just now. And while we’re there, this from Lord T:

8. Time for sax:

7. Australian ‘comedy’ often isn’t, as with most modern shows here too – that Carr person, Sue Perkins – about as funny as a dose of cl** … well never mind that.

A few Oz comedians though have actively tried to play appalling Australians – gauche, broad brogue, excruciating ignorance. One was obviously Humphreys but another was Garry McDonald who, as Wiki says:

… is best known as the seemingly naive celebrity interviewer Norman Gunston, through whom he pioneered the “ambush interviewer” technique, since followed by many others.

Appallingly dressed, carrying a Qantas bag to impress interviewees as an international jetsetter, he’d sport attempted comb-over hair, shaving nicks covered in loo roll and asked truly ignorant, deeply embarrassing questions – for example, asking Ray Charles why he wore sunglasses. Ouch.

He was also ‘best friends’, in his eyes, with celebs who at the start didn’t know him from Adam but as his fame grew, people he’d really upset, such as Edward Woodward, finally got the joke and were happy to come back on the show, but by then, the essential humour had been lost.

Some interviews I can’t even watch – the nastiest was with Keith Moon who told him to ‘f off you Aussie slag’, the one with Chevy Chase was awful – the team always targetted those ‘celebs’ who were up themselves, were tossers, those used to dominating interviews and wowing audiences with their wit and talent, those playing the bad boy or who actually were – it’s a wonder he wasn’t assaulted.

McDonald’s team went straight for the jugular with people like Paul McCartney, Frank Zappa, Boy George – think you get the idea.

Sometimes though he interviewed people not full of themselves and the result was delightful:

Ray Charles came over as essentially nice and McDonald tended to lay off in those cases – still excruciating though:

Where he nearly came a cropper was during the ‘Aus coup d’etat’ in 1975 where tempers were more than a little frayed – he gets told off by Bob Hawke at one stage:

6. One of my favourite cartoon strips was Tumbleweeds by Tom K. Ryan. You’ll need to click on the picture and again and again until it enlarges:

Just before he died, he asked that the comic strip ceased from the day he died. That doesn’t stop us looking back.

5. Joe has a good one here:

https://eatonrapidsjoe.blogspot.com/2019/10/unintended-consequences.html

The unintended consequence is related to the seat switch.

Sprite weighs about 80 pounds and doesn’t have enough lead in her pockets to keep the seat switch closed. Several times she hit some bumps. The bouncing caused the seat switch to un-make and the tractor stopped RIGHT NOW.

It will be very, very hard for her to feed the cattle the 150 round bales she has if she cannot use the Captain’s her tractor.

I swung by the Kubota dealer and asked if there were lower-rate springs that can be installed in the seat. The parts man said, “Sorry buddy. Lawyers run the world. Can’t help you out.”

See what you make of all that.

4. From the boys, about drones:

https://www.theregister.co.uk/2019/10/11/make_more_drone_crimes_demand_mps/

The button that switches the wi-fi off?

3. Just a quick word about my use of Twitter on the blog. If it’s just a truism, I can copy text and paste, but no url goes with that. On something with footage, it’s best to embed the whole tweet.

That way, you get the context, who said what and that’s for all readers. For those also on Twitter, they can click the footage and see it played out – the Warren one below is well worth it.

On that basis, here are some tweets relevant to what’s been blogged on yesterday and today:

Also, Ann Coulter was just on TV, made the point that unless America acts now, firmly, then most congresspersons will be Omars within an AOC timeframe.

One last word on embedding those tweets – they took me all of 50 seconds, the lot.

For every screenshot though, it takes about 3 minutes to shoot, upload to GIMP, resize, save, download, close off GIMP, upload to the blog. Think you get the idea.

2. The follow up to the 37 year Wild Duck launching:

Can’t stand silly loud music in a documentary.

1. Vicky just retweeted this:

Teenager, 19, on a ‘girly weekend with friends’ is among five people stabbed after knifeman ‘lunged’ at shoppers in Manchester’s Arndale Centre with a 12in blade in ‘terror attack’ as man, 41, is arrested

It’s not the girls’ ability under normal circumstances to look after themselves, it’s that these are far from normal circumstances now.

That is the issue.

We are in a time when the most at-risk demographic, as well as the aged and small kids, seems to think it is invulnerable, something which men, supposedly the demographic which can protect itself, no way takes for granted any more.

Those Norwegian girls – wouldn’t it be great to go to Morocco? Those Austrian girls – wouldn’t it be great to join ISIS? Lara Logan – I’m the fearless, invulnerable reporter, my crew will save me – it goes on and on and on and they NEVER learn.

The very demographic whom these girls attack, even spit on [latest footage] – that is the hated demographic essentially providing protection less and less and less as it becomes more and more ostracised.

In the old days, the woman would go into a shop or cafe and note who was who quickly, whom to gravitate near because there was a chance, it was a belief chivalry would kick in if suddenly in danger … and there was every reason to suppose her beauty and charm would work on the male.

Not today.  Even the chivalrous male knows not to get involved, plus he too will be killed.  Just quietly she notes it, just quietly, he quietly resolves.  That’s the issue today.

Take a look at Rotherham. That’s a different story to ‘random’ attack and yet it’s still indicative. My question is – which gender was being groomed – male or female? Yes I’m well aware the other is too by the elite but nowhere near the number of girls – prime targets, even easier with their narrative delusion.

There’s a type of female now, finding she has unbelievable freedom, made adult too soon and fully believing she’s more than equal in every way, better in fact – simply fresh meat waiting to be taken.

It’s a form of insanity – hellbent on doing anything they want, assured that white knights will step in or even more ludicrous – that with their martial arts and mace, they can fend off any assault.

There was a particular case in Melbourne decades ago. She was martial arts, had the bit of paper to say she’d reached some level. You know how this story ends. In all her drills, all her floor competitions, she’d not once faced real life assault, only contrived.

Boys tend to have had more of a fighting background or used to, not these days – I had my share as a yoof, most men reading this did, and one thing we know is that we cannot handle multipronged, targetted attack from utter nutters, no matter who we are.  What we learnt even more than how to fight was how to avoid them before they could even begin.

We’ve learnt not to go certain places in town at certain hours, most certainly avoiding public transport late, unless in large numbers, but there is something new going on today.

It’s this ‘random’ factor and the bestial fury of the assailant[s] – that’s if you manage to avoid a gunman. Jo Cox is a perfect case – MP, entourage, didn’t matter.

I suppose my attitude is a result of living in Russia at street level, as well as protected from above. The operative word about the danger was ‘sudden’. Out of nowhere, when least expected – it happened twice in ‘dvor’ or yard. I wish I were not aware but I am. From experience.

Question – where was Anna Politkovskaya murdered? Ditto with Jill Dando?

They were murdered on their doorstep returning home.

Where was Dorothy Kilgallen murdered?

Inside her own home.

Where was Myleene Klaas attacked?

In her own backyard.

We once had a police higher-up speak at our school about where the most incidents occur.

At or near the school gate. These days, it’s in the classroom with teachers guilty of teaching wrong but that’s another post.

Lastly, what is the difference between a child and a young woman? The young child always stays within a protective bubble if she can.

And the young woman? Nope, oblivious [don’t you dare oppress me], off exploring on her own, revelling in her ‘freedom’.

Enough. Why should I care? Because I do.

[H/T our beasty boys, when applicable]

7 comments for “Weekend live [2]

  1. woodsy42
    October 12, 2019 at 15:22

    5 – My ride-on mower was just the same, and I’m no lightweight! Of course apart from sheer nuisance value the damn thing wouldn’t restart because sudden cutting of power had flooded it. I put an elastic band round the switch to ‘help’ it stay connected, later when I had access during maintenance by-passing it altogether. Typical of many health and safety systems.

    • October 12, 2019 at 17:38

      Gee, I had no idea they were lethal like that. I thought Joe was talking about tractors.

      • woodsy42
        October 12, 2019 at 23:31

        He was but a ride on mower pretends to be a baby tractor, so I assume has the same H&S ‘scrutiny’.

  2. Andy5759
    October 12, 2019 at 22:54

    9. I suppose you don’t get a choice to view things sent to you by friends. We disciples do, sometimes I don’t play a song or follow a link. In spite of all that, you keep the mood here more up than down. Not an easy task. I do appreciate your efforts here and OOL. Also JM at AP, the poor girl wades through the filth and mire of society to show us what we choose not to look at in rl. You are all heroes to me.

  3. Penseivat
    October 13, 2019 at 10:01

    7. Perhaps Kath and Kim should get a mention when discussing Australian comedy. A ‘Bogan’ type mother with a daughter who puts on airs and graces was excruciatingly funny. How some of the scenes got past the censor, I have no idea. The one that I recall most was lunch in a wine bar when the daughter orders a glass of chardonnay, but pronounces it with a hard ‘k’. After an argument over the pronunciation, she grudgingly accepts that she is wrong and tells the waitress, “OK, I’ll have a glass of chardonnay, you chunt.”
    It was the first Australian comedy series I saw which involved self deprecating humour.

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