The master of testiculation.
Took a cup of coffee for a walk down to the elephant enclosure this morning; sat on the fence and watched for a while; they were all there. Some merely nodded others ambled over for a pat, piece of apple and a quiet word; except the ex ministerial ones. The ASA elephant (Angus Sheed) was still pacing about, agitated and waving his trunk and threatening the CASA elephant, which was desperately trying not be noticed, hiding behind the Juniper bushes. The ATSB elephant, well; it has built a little hideaway, quite artistic really, built of old straw and pooh. That shelter will not survive the next storm, but in the meanwhile, ATSB feels quite secure, shielded from the wrath of the ASA elephant.
Ayup, the last committee meeting has created some consternation. The connoisseur being spoiled for choice. On the menu we have:-
For the purist, testiculation stew, the ancient art of talking bollocks, with your hands. Turn the sound off and watch An(g)us, he could get a job as a semaphore signaller anywhere in the world; watch as the gestures telegraph the words. With practice, you can actually predict exactly not only what is being said; but the tone and pace of the delivery; intriguing. Bollocks, hand articulated.
While you have the sound off, watch the body language during the Harfwit tirade toward the end, it is a good place for the neophyte to start. Pure sociopath, anger at being questioned, contempt for those who dare challenge, fear of getting caught; all the Bullies trademarks, writ large.
While you do that, watch Hoody, carefully; you may need the sound on for that, but only when you spot the Halfwit clues. It’s not that easy to discern, but for the purist, a delight.
Anyway, enough of elephants and amusement; let’s discuss the noble art of throwing people under busses. This sport has developed popularity over the past few years; and, there were some classic plays made during the last hearing. An(g)us led the charge; the Minister (and minions) first, then CASA, then ATSB, in rapid succession, followed by his own team. This was quite an entertaining act; spoiled a little by the long winded, testiculated brag about what a top pilot he was. That bit made me slightly nauseous actually; Fawcett for an example is a top gun, but hardly ever breathes a word of that; Rothschild has a few bucks in the sock, but you never hear him saying how much. I was at a birthday bash recently, I reckon there was at least 250,000 command hours in the room, spread over a dozen disciplines, all owned by ‘professional’ ego’s and nary a word said of vast past experience– except for the odd hilarious story. So why old An(g)us feels he has to tell us what a whizz bang driver, airframe, he is has me puzzled. But, I digress.
The nimble manner in which An(g)us threw his mates under the Senate bus was worth watching (with sound); none were spared (bar Hoody). The ‘management’ sacrificed to save the board. Minister and minions, under the wheels; CASA amongst the first to go closely followed by the ATSB (a good riddance). All we have left at our bus stop is An(g)us looking very pleased with himself, smug as a cat, and sleek as a weasel, alone, without the problems.
“Problems?” he asks; yes An(g)us, great big ones; like why was something not done about the money problems, the airspace problems, the internal strife problems. The MoU, or even the recurring problems with the SHEED approach. You see, when you have betrayed your comrades and thrown the troops under a bus, there is only one man left standing. At one point you could have saved Halfwit, but no; in the style of a true craven you stood back and let the committee savage him (another good riddance). Only Hoody tried to help.
There’s one little part I want to watch again; the bit where Staib is initially brought into camera; referred to as ‘she’ at first; took me a while to work out exactly to whom you were referring; there’s a certain ‘familiarity’ in the opening remarks concerning the lady of faux wings, which ‘we’ will consider at the next BRB.
The moral of the story is always watch your rear view mirror and don’t stand on a bus stop in front of An(g)us, at least not when there’s a bus due.
Selah.
Took a cup of coffee for a walk down to the elephant enclosure this morning; sat on the fence and watched for a while; they were all there. Some merely nodded others ambled over for a pat, piece of apple and a quiet word; except the ex ministerial ones. The ASA elephant (Angus Sheed) was still pacing about, agitated and waving his trunk and threatening the CASA elephant, which was desperately trying not be noticed, hiding behind the Juniper bushes. The ATSB elephant, well; it has built a little hideaway, quite artistic really, built of old straw and pooh. That shelter will not survive the next storm, but in the meanwhile, ATSB feels quite secure, shielded from the wrath of the ASA elephant.
Ayup, the last committee meeting has created some consternation. The connoisseur being spoiled for choice. On the menu we have:-
For the purist, testiculation stew, the ancient art of talking bollocks, with your hands. Turn the sound off and watch An(g)us, he could get a job as a semaphore signaller anywhere in the world; watch as the gestures telegraph the words. With practice, you can actually predict exactly not only what is being said; but the tone and pace of the delivery; intriguing. Bollocks, hand articulated.
While you have the sound off, watch the body language during the Harfwit tirade toward the end, it is a good place for the neophyte to start. Pure sociopath, anger at being questioned, contempt for those who dare challenge, fear of getting caught; all the Bullies trademarks, writ large.
While you do that, watch Hoody, carefully; you may need the sound on for that, but only when you spot the Halfwit clues. It’s not that easy to discern, but for the purist, a delight.
Anyway, enough of elephants and amusement; let’s discuss the noble art of throwing people under busses. This sport has developed popularity over the past few years; and, there were some classic plays made during the last hearing. An(g)us led the charge; the Minister (and minions) first, then CASA, then ATSB, in rapid succession, followed by his own team. This was quite an entertaining act; spoiled a little by the long winded, testiculated brag about what a top pilot he was. That bit made me slightly nauseous actually; Fawcett for an example is a top gun, but hardly ever breathes a word of that; Rothschild has a few bucks in the sock, but you never hear him saying how much. I was at a birthday bash recently, I reckon there was at least 250,000 command hours in the room, spread over a dozen disciplines, all owned by ‘professional’ ego’s and nary a word said of vast past experience– except for the odd hilarious story. So why old An(g)us feels he has to tell us what a whizz bang driver, airframe, he is has me puzzled. But, I digress.
The nimble manner in which An(g)us threw his mates under the Senate bus was worth watching (with sound); none were spared (bar Hoody). The ‘management’ sacrificed to save the board. Minister and minions, under the wheels; CASA amongst the first to go closely followed by the ATSB (a good riddance). All we have left at our bus stop is An(g)us looking very pleased with himself, smug as a cat, and sleek as a weasel, alone, without the problems.
“Problems?” he asks; yes An(g)us, great big ones; like why was something not done about the money problems, the airspace problems, the internal strife problems. The MoU, or even the recurring problems with the SHEED approach. You see, when you have betrayed your comrades and thrown the troops under a bus, there is only one man left standing. At one point you could have saved Halfwit, but no; in the style of a true craven you stood back and let the committee savage him (another good riddance). Only Hoody tried to help.
There’s one little part I want to watch again; the bit where Staib is initially brought into camera; referred to as ‘she’ at first; took me a while to work out exactly to whom you were referring; there’s a certain ‘familiarity’ in the opening remarks concerning the lady of faux wings, which ‘we’ will consider at the next BRB.
The moral of the story is always watch your rear view mirror and don’t stand on a bus stop in front of An(g)us, at least not when there’s a bus due.
Selah.
Quote:“One can say this in general of men: they are ungrateful, disloyal, insincere and deceitful, timid of danger and avid of profit...Love is a bond of obligation that these miserable creatures break whenever it suits them to do so; but fear holds them fast by a dread of punishment that never passes.” Machiavelli.