Pot80pouri

It's the end of another month and time to catch up on what's been happening culture wise. However, the sun is shining, and I can't be bothered, and in any case I want to leave room for the joke about two wargamers at a party, should I be in the mood by the time I get to the bottom of the page. Highlights did include a talking bed - ironically in a play about someone whose memory has become unreliable following an accident - plus a chap sitting directly in front of me at an opera unexpectedly rushing the stage and joining in the curtain call. I thought at first that he was an operatic Karl Power, and was kicking myself for never having thought of it myself, but rather boringly he turned out to be the composer.

I also want to mention veteran blues guitarist Walter Trout who was excellent. I am a sucker for first hand stories about legends such as B.B. King, Albert King (who apparently wasn't very nice) and John Lee Hooker, and Trout didn't disappoint. He was joined on stage for one number by local legend Chantel MacGregor. I've no idea who arranged for it to happen, but it quickly became apparent that they had never met and that she was seriously in awe of him. However, perhaps buoyed by shouts from the crowd of "Show him, Shanty", she didn't disappoint either and the faces of the band ended up showing both surprise and approval.

I've already mentioned the only film I saw in June, the truly dreadful 2001. Moving on to a real classic, those who, like me, love the La Marseillaise scene from Casablanca (which I have previously posted here in sad circumstances) may find this critical analysis interesting; hat tip to Liberal England for pointing me to it.

There were two wargamers who had been invited to a party. One, not at all confident with women, asks for advice from his friend who had far more success in that field. He is advised to take a large potato and put it down his underpants whereupon, or so he is assured, the women will flock to him. At the party they meet and the giver of the advice asks the recipient how things are going. "Not at all well" comes the reply "They are actually running away from me now." His friend looks him up and down and says "You're supposed to put it down the front."

Пожалуйста, не присылайте мне в Сибирь

Boardgaming seems to be feast or famine with me and so it was that for the second day in a row I retired to the pub for a bit of paper and plastic action; this time with the Leeds Meeples.

First up was some more Ice Flow, which has been a bit of a consistent hit recently. Last night's players made more of the 'aiming the polar bear at your rivals and throwing a fish' mechanism than others and the game was different because of it. It certainly lasted longer.

The actual game in progress; isn't technology marvellous?

Second up was a game of Cosmic Encounter. It was the second time that I had played this and it made slightly more sense this time. I now know that there is actually a back story as to why one doesn't have much control over who one attacks. Obviously this narrative provided by the designers doesn't make any sense, but it's nice to know that it's there. Anyway, I was the Warrior race and used their special ability to rapidly build up a large amount of extra attack strength, only to find that no-one would fight me except the chap with a Loser card (which at least increased my strength even if I couldn't win) and the Pacifists. Now, in what universe should pacifists beat warriors? OK, in every real universe they should; but in what fictional boardgame universe?

I'd have to be a warrior -
A slave I couldn't be -
A soldier and a conqueror,
Fighting to be free.

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