It’s well known that one of the reasons for the Royal Air Force’s victory over Germany’s Luftwaffe in the Battle of Britain was the exceptional courage and skill of its pilots. Lesser known, but just as important, was England’s mastery and use of radar to direct the air battles. It was a rare case of Britain besting the more technologically-advanced Germans in the race for war-winning tech.

English ground controllers (radar was still too heavy and bulky to be installed aboard fighter aircraft) used radar to detect incoming German fighters and bombers, and then direct their own interceptors to the Luftwaffe squadrons without the need for wasteful patrols. This saved the British time, fuel, wear and tear on their aircraft, and most importantly, the lives of their dwindling ranks of pilots.

One intrepid German-speaking English radar controller happened upon the frequency the German controllers were using to communicate with their own flyers. He used his radar-accessed knowledge of their locations to misdirect them, using German-language commands, far out of their way to useless or unimportant targets. This wasted huge amounts of fuel, and the Germans would have to break off the engagement and head back to base to refuel, leaving their intended targets safe and unharmed. This caused a great deal of confusion and frustration among the German ground controllers.

One of them eventually caught on that there was an imposter on the radio waves, tricking the Germans into engaging the wrong targets. He tried to warn his pilots not to listen to the Englishman, and instead take orders only from him. The Englishman retaliated by insisting that he was the German controller, and not to listen to the ‘Englishman’. This battle of wits went back and forth until, in the heat of battle, the German became so exasperated that his pilots were wasting fuel and hitting no British targets, that he swore, loudly and profanely into the open microphone.

The English controller, who must have been some kind of goofy improvisational genius, called out: “The Englishman is now swearing!” The German, nearly weeping with frustration, wailed: “It is not the Englishman who is swearing; it is ME!”

We love you. That will never change. You have my deepest sympathy after the elevation of this unsavory buffoon to the Prime Ministership.

I eagerly await the advent of some typically pungent British insults directed at (whom I understand is now known as) BoJo.

Share them with us.

(I will forever be grateful for the Brits who came up with 'incompressable jizztrumpet" to describe Trump...)

I love you all...

He had a not-uncommon problem that is not always easy to diagnose, due to the number of things that could be causing it. I was assembling a differential while he gave me the history of the condition.

I was going over my list of things it could be (out loud, unfortunately), and he said: "Sounds like quackery to me! I was a corpsman in Vietnam! Improvise!"

Shit...

I came to the (probably correct) diagnosis that it was caused by an adverse interaction between two of the many medications he's taking, and recommended that, based on his current status, he could discontinue one of them.

I hope his condition improves, and I hope I never see him again...

America: "Love It Or Leave It." That's the schtick they're hitting us with again. Their jive is wearing real thin, considering the fact that that little how-do-you-do has been around for about sixty years. They need to get some new material.

My thing is: since what they want is a country radically different from the one we have right now, aren't they the ones who hate America? Isn't their vision of an all-white, all-straight, male-dominated theocratic military dictatorship as nebulous and unattainable as Utopia, Erewhon, El Dorado, or the Seven Cities of Cibola?


I don't know where they expect to find their longed-for Republic of Gilead, but it ain't here. So denizens of Trumptown, this is America; love it, or......well, you get the idea...

My Care Coordinator says all she heard was 'trauma', so that might not be it.

Life sucks so hard sometimes...

I just said that to my clinical staff out of frustration that our electronic health records network keeps dropping out. My MA supervisor told me that administration doesn't want to pay for upgrades, and that a while back, the entire IT staff walked out in protest.

The administration takes home some sweet salaries and bonuses, while clinical staff constantly have to get their union to push for pay increases. And now we have these computer issues that the admins don't want to pay for because the cost would cut into their $$$.

I swear sometimes...

How is everyone doing tonight?

I've seen guys who are otherwise exceptional dressers absolutely fail hard when it comes to pairing their shoes.

When I was in PA School, there were events for which the students would need to appear in business dress. The guys would all wear these natty suits. One could always tell who among the guys were military veterans, because we were the only ones who polished our shoes. Most of the other guys wore ratty-looking, unshined leather slip-ons even with the nicest of suits.

I was at the opera a few weeks back, and saw a guy wearing a very nice, well-fitted tuxedo; guy really knew how to accessorize, too; studs, cufflinks, the works. And he was wearing a pair of the above-mentioned ratty black slip-ons.

Dude? Seriously!

I admit I go a little over on the other side of the issue. I own probably sixty pairs of shoes. One doesn't have to go that far.

But put some effort into it!

I'm cool with that.

Just as long as he goes away.

To prison.

For a very long time...