Skip to main content

It's total war. Until 11.

I don't want to get too heavily involved in the Israel-Palestine issue here on Washed and Ready. I was, however, rather taken with the idea of the Israelis stopping the fighting in Gaza between 11 and 2, every other day.

There can't be many precedents for part-time war. The only thing that springs to mind is the famous football match between German and British troops on the frontline during the 1914-1918 conflict, but I'm not sure the kick-off was ever sanctioned by the top brass.

Other suggestions for half-hearted war: every second magazine filled with blanks; dress down Fridays, where troops don't wear their usual armour; duvet days for special forces. There's real potential here.

Comments

  1. Probably a result of the credit crunch. They'll the try dropping it to four days a week before they have to lay off some of the suicide bombers.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Special Constable update

I've now studied the Special Constable poster in more detail (see blogs passim ) and can reveal the idea is even more complex and bizarre than I first thought. You'll recall that a Special is on some seedy looking street corner, just yards away from where a drug deal is in progress. He's keenly observing events and looks ready to take some kind of action. The copy says that Specials wear uniform and always have back-up. But this guy is on his own in plain clothes. Worrying. Perhaps he's off duty but just can't leave the policing thing alone? Once a part-time copper, always a part-time copper. But wait. There is back up. It comes in the form of the constable's own reflection in a puddle. If he took his eyes off the criminal activity for just a second and took the trouble to look down at his feet, he'd see that in Puddle Land, he is wearing a uniform and carrying a radio. There's enough material here to fill a semiotics seminar for a day. If I disco...

Captain Birdseye and other people of rank

Regular readers may recall that I once doubted the existence of Yeo Valley. I'd never heard of the Yeo mountain range and I therefore rated the likelihood of there being a valley at somewhere between 0 and 5%. Of course, I had yoghurt all over my face when I discovered that the place really does exist. Somewhere in Somerset, I seem to recall. Today, having read an article in the latest edition of The Marketer magazine, I'm astonished to discover that there really was a Captain Birdseye. Well, I need to qualify that just a little. There was a Mister Clarence Birdseye who invented the fish finger back in 1955. The avuncular, uniformed figure who dominated our TV screens for about thirty years may have been an invention of over-eager advertising creatives, but he didn't blow in on a trawler during a squall. There was actually some connection to a real human being. These revelations about fish and yoghurt are causing me considerable disquiet, because I'm wondering h...

Tune in next week, when we'll turn another pretty woman into a high-class hooker...

I like to think that I keep up with most of Mrs W's viewing habits, but she's been watching more and more trash since emerging from her hospital trip and things are spiralling out of control. I understand the need for rest and recuperation, but fear the virus has eaten away at the part of her brain responsible for quality control. Somehow or other, I've never previously settled down to How to look good naked on Channel 4. For the uninitiated, the show is presented by a man called Gok Wan who has the kind of face you could happily slap for a week. No, make that a fortnight. Mr Wan is a firm believer that a woman hasn't lived until she's dressed herself up as a tart and paraded herself naked in front of TV cameras. The only thing holding her back is her self-esteem. With the help of hairdressers, make-up artists and a load of disingenuous patter about how great the girl is now looking, he persuades her to sway down a catwalk in lingerie and pose on a chair like...