Some links...

As I've recently become an Uncle, if you ask me these people seem to have the right idea about child-rearing.

Ah, if only he'd succeeded...

If I ever go to Japan, I'm learning the language from this book. Baby.

And finally, the last place I would have expected to find a post dedicated to women in uniform would be on an Iranian Army website... (Work safe.)

[Roleplaying] Curse my brain

Normally, by this time of the year, I'm swearing off gaming and promising I shall never run another game again. However, thanks to my brain hating me, this time round I've got the idea for my next production before I even run the latest. Dammit.

Somewhere over the Atlantic, 1933.

The low drone of the propellers was barely audible over the hum of conversation in the dining hall of the magnificent R-100 as she sailed gracefully westward at a steady twenty-five miles per hour. Although a whisper could not have been heard at any neighbouring table, I, Bertram Wilberforce Wooster, still lowered my voice and leaned forward to pass comment.
“I say, Jeeves”, I uttered. “Don’t look now, but you’ll never guess who is sitting with the Captain, not two tables behind you.”
“Indeed, sir?”
“It’s that film star chappy. You know, whatshisname. Plays a tramp a lot.”
“Mr Charles Chaplin, sir?”
“The very fellow! Sitting not fifteen feet away!”
Jeeves craned his neck for a surreptitious look around. “I think you’ll find, sir, that the gentleman in question is not Mr Charles Chaplin, but in fact Mr. Adolf Hitler, Chancellor of Germany, on his way to New York to address the League of Nations.”
“Good heavens. He’s the dead spit!”
“That is as may be, sir, but I should advise caution in making the observation. I hear that Herr Hitler only recently threatened to declare war on Czechoslovakia after their president passed a similar comment.”
“Cripes, so a bit of a humourless old stick, then, eh?”
“You might say so, sir.”
A look of concern fluttered over the usually blithe countenance of the Wooster. “But if that’s Hitler”, I said, thoughtfully, “then who the devil is that fellow over there?” I pointed to the other side of the dining room, where another man was dining alone. Jeeves nodded.
“I think you’ll find, sir, that that gentleman is in fact Mr. Charles Chaplin, star of stage and screen, recently returned from a triumphant tour of Europe. I’m sure with both Mr Chaplin and Herr Hitler aboard the flight the possibilities for humourous misunderstandings will be rife.”
I quickly took it upon myself to reassure Jeeves that the idea was beyond the realms of probability.
“Indeed, sir.”
A quiet moment passed.
“I say, Jeeves?”
“Sir?”
“Who was that fellow you were getting all chummy with over lunch, earlier?”
“A Mr. Pennyworth, Sir. He’s the personal gentleman to Mr Wayne, the American Millionaire you were introduced to last night.”
“Who?”
“Mr. Wayne, sir. The American returning from his tour of the East. I was talking to his gentleman, Mr. Pennyworth. Apparently Mr. Wayne is returning with some valuable archaeological artefacts.”
“Ah, the ones that other American was talking about? The fellow with the hat and whip? Welsh name?”
“Mr Jones, sir, a gentleman of Midwestern extraction. Yes, I believe them to be the very ones.”
“Are they valuable, Jeeves?”
“I hear so, sir. They are to be delivered to the Gotham City Museum. The Italian gentleman over there – Mr Corleone – runs an import and export business which is handling the shipping.”
“So what were you and this other fellow talking about?”
“You impending nuptials, sir. Since you rather rashly became engaged to Ms. Parker, I have, at your request, been looking for ideas to ‘get you out of it’. Apparently Mr. Wayne is a confirmed bachelor and I wished to compare notes with his man - your Aunt Agatha is most determined that this match of yours should come off, sir.”
I looked about just in case speaking of the dreaded Aunt might summon her up like Mephistopheles in a music-hall show. “Good thinking, Jeeves. Any bright ideas? You’d need to be the cleverest fellow in the world to get me out of this jam. The Aunts are dead fixed on me galumphing up the aisle in pretty short order.”
“I regret not, sir, although your words do remind me that Mr. Albert Einstein, noted scientist, is aboard. He is widely regarded as being the cleverest fellow in the world.”
“Is he, by Jove? I’ll have to have words. A smarter fellow than you? Why, he must scoff simply tons of fish.”
“I could not speak as his dietary requirements sir, although it does strike me that Ms. Parker writes for a famous metropolitan newspaper and one of her fellow reporters is aboard this very flight, sir. I might hazard to suggest you confer with him to see if he can give you any insight into the mind of the young lady.”
I nodded at the wisdom of this. “Sound thoughts, old egg. Who is the fellow?”
“A reporter by the name of Kent, sir.”
“Kent, eh? Sounds like a solid English name. Is he of the Berkshire Kents?”
“I rather think not, sir. I suspect that Mr. Kent is from considerably further away than that.”

David presents:
Hitler, Charlie Chaplin, Dorothy Parker, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, Bruce Wayne and impeccable buttling in:
Reginald Jeeves and the Lost Ark


Yet another Bloody stupid idea.