Memory Dump

Prelude...

Blogging is hard.

First you have to come up with something to write about that a certain section of one's readership will enjoy. Hopefully that certain section is "all three of them." Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

Then, hopefully after coming up with a topic, you need to come up with a snazzy post title, something that will grab people's attention. There are a number of dirty tricks one can employ to get people to visit, but if it's a particularly tawdry ruse, they won't come back. The old "fool me once" thing.

Anyhoo, all that is simply the prelude for today's post, which I had originally thought to call "Flotsam and Jetsam." But that didn't fit. "Odds 'n' Sods" would have worked, but I've used that one before. Fairly recently as well.

Damn it! Digressed again. Anyhoo (x2)...

Act One...

I have had lots on my mind recently. The upcoming elections. My recent trip to my native lands. Dinner on Monday night...

Come again?

Yes, dinner on Monday night. The Missus Herself and Your Humble Scribe did gather with three old friends for to dine and to engage in witty conversation. There was our former pastor's wife, whom we like to call Miss Betty, as that's her name and adding "Miss" to the front just seems fitting. (And yes, whenever we give her a lift someplace I always think of Driving Miss Daisy. For Miss Betty never saw the need to learn how to operate a motor vehicle.) Sad to say that our former pastor himself could not be there as he passed back in 2008. He is sorely missed by all who knew him. A great friend he was.

The other two friends were a couple. Jeff and Maggie are originally from Jolly Olde England and used to live here in Little Rhody where Jeff was a pastor.

Yes, I seem to know a number of men of the cloth (one or two women as well) and no, it's not because I have lived the life of a rapscallion and feel the need to make amends at this late stage of my existence.

Though I daresay, it couldn't hurt...

Anyhoo...

At dinner we were all rather depressed about the state of the Union and the rather lackluster slate of candidates seeking to lead us into the future. So we stayed completely away from politics and turned to reminiscing about older, better times.

Speaking of avoiding politics...

Act Two...

Sometime back, Madame Mère remarked that my brother, Ye Olde Vermonter, had remarked that my blog was getting far too political for his tastes and that henceforth and forthwith, he would no longer waste his precious time coming here to read the ramblings of his older brother.

No, I didn't beat him about the head and shoulders for that remark. I do believe that that might have been something that might have earned him a thrashing when we were nobbut callow youths. Had I been prone to such behavior, back in the day as it were.

Truth be told, I too was getting sick of politics. I mean a fellow can rant and rave all day (and most of the night) over "just how bad things are" and all it will do is cause the already converted to nod their heads and say "Amen." Would my rantings and ravings convert the heathen to my way of thinking?

Nope. Not gonna happen.

So I, being convinced that my brother was (for once in his life) more correct about something than I was, backed off on the political posts. Found it refreshing I did. Did it cost me readers? No, at least not that I can tell.

When I mentioned this to Ye Olde Vermonter at dinner last Friday instant, he immediately did what he did back in the old days, that is...

"Mom!"

My Mother immediately sensed that somehow the middle of her three offspring had taken offense at something she had done. Or that perhaps I had slugged my brother (as he claims I was wont to do in days of yore) and he was appealing to her for justice.

He was somewhat annoyed that Madame Mère had told me of his feelings vis-à-vis politics on this here blog. Mom defended herself well and I remarked that I was glad to know what my readers did and did not care for as regards the topics I write about. Ye Olde Vermonter was somewhat mollified by this but I daresay that will perhaps be the last time he shares a confidence with our mater regarding this here blog.

From rumblings about the ancestral home I have discerned that both of my brothers and I are not, you might say, aligned when it comes to des affaires politiques. While I tend towards conservatism, there are times when my views seem, shall we say, a trifle too far to the right for some folk's tastes.

My brothers, I do believe, are slightly left of center. Not that there's anything wrong with that. (No really, I mean it. They are more liberal than I but they're not, as far as I can tell, raving Bolsheviks. I don't care for Bolsheviks. Sorry Bernie, but there it is.)

And there are days when even I can't tell if I'm being serious or not.

Entr'acte...

A good rule of thumb is to assume that I am trying to be witty most of the time. Heavy emphasis on the "trying" part of that last sentence. While I can be serious, it goes against my nature.

Now where was I? Oh yeah...

Act Three...

I have been ruminating as of late concerning writing a post about the events and history surrounding the siege of Jadotville (in the Congo) in 1961. An event which Netflix has seen fit to produce a film about. Aptly named, The Siege of Jadotville. I enjoyed the film, though others of my acquaintance did not. Having read up on that battle (after having seen the movie and questioning its veracity, as I often do, for Hollywood and others of that ilk aren't really known for accuracy in their depictions of historical events), I wanted to address the film's accuracy and perhaps place it in its proper context. Historically speaking that is.

Well, well. Seems that this particular battle was just one part of a very complicated and controversial sequence of events playing out on the African continent in the early 1960s. After all, it was post-WWII, the colonial powers were exhausted from WWII, the peoples living under European masters were somewhat tired of that and were seeking to get out from under their colonial bosses.

Of course, the colonial masters weren't all that keen on letting go of things, they, being old school European types, rather liked the status quo ante bellum. As the Cold War was then "all the rage," the colonial types thought they might squeak one by the old United Nations and perhaps get back what they felt was "rightfully ours." As the United States and the Soviet Union were not exactly "playing nice" with each other and were rather distracted by all that was happening in Europe, the UN had the chance to show what it was capable of. (Editor's Note: The siege of Jadotville was in September of 1961, the Berlin Wall went up in August of that same year. To say the USA was distracted is a bit of an understatement.)

So the post on the siege of Jadotville is going to be delayed for a while. I want to do it justice. The Irish Army, in its first fight away from the Auld Sod behaved admirably at Jadotville. Truth be told, one Irish infantry company did indeed fight off over three thousand well armed (though ill-trained) native levies led by white, European (think French and Belgian) mercenaries. The Irish did not suffer any killed in action. The Africans cannot say the same, they did, verily, get their butts kicked.

Initial reaction, based on preliminary research, the film The Siege of Jadotville is an accurate depiction of what happened in one small part of the Congo back in the fall of 1961. What it could have used was better placement in its historical context. Of course, then the movie might have been unwatchable. Movie audiences shy away from long, complicated stories where they really need to pay attention.Well, modern audiences that is.

Postlude...

Blogging is hard.

Today's example is what happens when I try to cover a bunch of things in one post.

Yup, memory dump it is.

I even bore myself at times...