bluebottle

Always unwise to challenge the gods - when Arachne's weaving skills outshone those of Athene, Arachne, terrified by the goddess's wrath, hanged herself and was turned into a spider. The rope became a web up which she escaped to safety.

Ah, Jim, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?

I mentioned to one chap demonstrating track making at an exhibition that I'd thought of using my computer and printer to produce a ballast strip; I thought that this might be OK for a shunting plank. He gave me an old-fashioned look and proceeded to ignore me...

You could authentically put these things together here. Woodhouse Grammar School used to be just off the picture to the right, and the school cross-country course started off down the station approach. There used to be a large billboard, usually advertising the local cinema, where the bus shelter is in the picture. If modelling the scene c.1960, one could - again authentically - have a large group of runners setting off in front of a poster advertising "The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner".

The late Fred Wedlock used to tell this story of fellow student Dai, at Swansea University. 'I was in the dining room one morning when my mate Dai came in, and I saw his face was bruised black and blue down one side: "Good God, Dai! What happened to you?" "Oh - Iwan Beynon hit me" Iwan Beynon, one of the tutors, was about five feet five and eight stones; Dai six feet four and seventeen stones. "How on Earth did Iwan Beynon manage to do that to you? "He hit me with an iron bar he happened to have in his hand at the time" "Oh - but couldn't you have defended yourself? Didn't you have anything in your hand at the time?" "Yes - Mrs Iwan Beynon's missus' left knocker - and it's a thing of consummate symmetry and beauty - but it's bug9er-all use as a weapon!" '

You probably know more about it than the rest of us then, Pete, but I gather that the USAAF found the weather over Europe rather more difficult to contend with than that over the New Mexican deserts where the bombardiers were trained. The Norden bombsight also required a great deal of skill on the part of the bombardier, and in practice it was found to be most effective to have the best men in the leader aircraft, the others simply dropping their bombs when they saw the leaders do so. For basic reading on the subject, the Wikipedia article on the Norden bombsight seems to be pretty well written, to my limited knowledge, and Paul Brickhill's "The Dam Busters" is interesting on the use of the British Stabilised Automatic Bomb Sight (S.A.B.S.). Gordon

Succinctly put. I had been going to post that area/precision bombing quote, which I heard an RAF Air Commodore say, some years ago, that he'd heard from a USAF senior officer. Obviously, each service respected the other, and I hope we can do the same.

Indeed, the problems for the RAF in identifying and dealing with Schräge Musik and other threats - real or imaginary - were compounded by the confusion inevitable in night bombing and by subsequent failures of Intelligence. Perhaps it did help bomber crews not to see the destruction of their comrades, but they were well aware of the horrific losses and of the dead and dying men brought back in damaged aircraft. One of my uncles was an RAF rear gunner, and, like most men who survived one of the most dangerous jobs of the war, was reluctant to talk about his experiences - particularly to a small boy. When I was old enough to understand, I didn't press him too hard on the matter, but I understood how lucky he was to survive - the rear gunner would be the first casualty of a conventional stern attack. Later, in the Arts sixth form at school, our art teacher would tell us humorous anecdotes about his wartime experiences, and only once about his actual job flying ground attack missions in a Typhoon: "I was beating up a German airfield; a door opened in a building and some men came running out. In the heat of the moment, I let fly with my cannon. Of course, they just weren't designed for that purpose..." (!) "...the men just disintegrated..." That gave me some idea of what would have happened to my uncle if he'd been hit by a mixture of armour piercing, incendiary and explosive 20mm cannon shells. The stories about the remains of gunners being hosed out of the rear turrets of Lancasters don't need to be exaggerated...

It's the way I tell 'em...

The problem with a long thread like this one is that jokes are sometimes inadvertently re-posted by other members. This one was last seen on 17.01.2011; post # 297. When I want to post a joke, I put a suitable keyword from it into the "search this forum" box at the top right of the page to check on previous usage.

In the eye of the beholder, as you say, Pete. It's a nice pin-up, but purely as a matter of personal preference I'd rather an undressed British one...

A very interesting post - it hadn't occurred to me that the difference in aesthetic appeal between B17 and Lancaster is that between Art Deco (the B17) and Modernism (the Lancaster). In fact, the Lancaster might almost be called Brutalist in its visual expression of its structural materials and forms. In my copy of Ian Allan's "RAF Aircraft of World War II" (bought with my 2s 6p pocket money C. 1959), John LLoyd says that: "When the Fortress 1 first came to this country it was not greatly admired and the high standard of upholstery and internal finish in the main cabin led us to believe, in contrast with our own stark, warlike machines, that it would not prove to be a useful military machine. This was amply disproved by the use to which the Americans put the later version and the service of the Mks. II and III in Coastal and Bomber Commands." Handsome is as handsome does... The mention of locomotive streamlining is interesting too; the streamlining on Stanier's "Coronation" class is typical of Art Deco forms. I would guess that the majority of RMwebbers would prefer the unstreamlined version. Even the American industrial designer Raymond Loewy, noted for his streamlining designs for locomotives, wrote in1937 that the unstreamlined, if sleeker, "Turbomotive" was "... one of the most beautiful pieces of machinery ever designed by man".

Wikipedia* doesn't say what range the B17 had with 17,600 lb of bombs, but does say that on a "short range mission", less than 400 miles, it could carry up to 8,000 lb of bombs. That's about the same distance as that between Scampton and the Bielefeld Viaduct in the North Rhineland, destroyed by 617 squadron with a 22,000 lb "Grand Slam". They also carried 12,000 lb "Tallboy" bombs the thousand miles from Lossiemouth to Tromsö Fiord to sink the "Tirpitz". *It amuses me that we all quote Wikipedia while disparaging its accuracy, but it's a convenient and comprehensive source, and should be used with other resources - which is true of any reference work.

Liked it, Jeremy, though the Serious Burns patients might have argued about a missing line and a couple of doubtful wordings...

I can't see Jedward without being reminded of how Cameron Diaz's character produced a similar sticky-up quiff in "There's something about Mary". I suppose that, in the interests of good taste, I must forgo the remark that that would be entirely appropriate in the lads' case...

The outstanding example of that most underrated of all musical genres, Bubble Gum!

I presume you mean "F#####n' in the Riggin'? Back in the late seventies, it was on the normally little-used jukebox in a quiet back-street pub I used to frequent. Occasionally, a group of revellers would ply the jukebox and ask the landlady to turn up the volume. If it got too loud, I'd surreptitiously key in this record. Out would boom: "'Twas on the good ship Venus, By Christ you should have seen us, The figurehead Was a whore in bed, And the mast a rampant peni - (click)" As the irate landlady switched the box off. Peace, perfect peace.

Y'know, there's no point in complaining about "in" words and phrases you don't like. Sooner or later most of them will disappear - as is the way of all fashion - most probably to be replaced by something else that irritates just as much. Those that are genuinely useful will survive; that's the way language develops. On the other hand, those who dress or speak fashionably are asking for it...

Britain's Olympic hopeful Joe Bloggs, followed by: Britain's Olympic medal hopeful Joe Bloggs, followed by: Britain's Olympic gold medal hopeful Joe Bloggs, followed by: Joe Bloggs, who failed to get through the heats... (Perhaps I should stress that I'm not criticising our sportsmen and women who, win or lose, will be doing their upmost, but jingoistic journalists who whip up false expectations).

Prototype: The Oxford English Dictionary gives:- The first or primary type of a person or thing; an original on which something is modelled or from which it is derived; an exemplar, an archetype. and:- A first full-size working version of a new vehicle, machine, etc., of which further improvements may be made; a preliminary version made in small numbers for evaluation, or from which improved or modified versions may be developed. More or less as Ron Ron Ron and Trisonic define the term. But also:- In model-making (my italics): a full-size original of which a model is a representation on a reduced scale. Examples of use of the term in this way are given, going back to 1911. The last definition seems to be exactly what is generally understood when the term is used in railway modelling circles. Do we really need to persuade people to use another word?

I had a thorough grounding in respect for my elders. One lesson was learned during a tram ride down Leith Walk with my mother in the early fifties: "Mum, that woman - " "Shh - you don't say a woman, you say a lady" "Oh....Mum, that lady's got a moustache!" "SHHH!" "But I said a lady..."

Dad's too daft to laugh at. The Mail's not much better, with the photo they've used to illustrate the story - unless the Ilfracombe fishermen land their mackerel ready smoked!

"Alright" = "How are you?" The dialogue early in "The Full Monty" that establishes that film's Sheffield authenticity: Gaz and Dave are balanced precariously atop a sinking car in the middle of the canal. Passer-by (nodding casually): "Alright?" Gaz: "Aye - Not s' bad"

Nowt non-PC about that - the Python "Four Yorkshiremen" were a lot of effete Southerners compared with some of the old lads who used to frequent Silverwood Miners Welfare Club in Rotherham. One regular in particular used to take grim satisfaction in rubbishing all the "turns". One night, a comedian was going down particularly well, and I overheard someone say: "Oh come on, Dad, you must admit he's good". "Aye", the oldster grudged - "I suppose 'e's all right if yer likes laughin'..."

I think that the general consensus of this thread so far is that life is a whole lot safer for frogs these days...