Well--what are you waiting for to happen?


00h UTC; TUESDAY, 12 MARCH 2013: Hopefully, the Canadian readers of this somewhat esoterically snarky brand of blog understand the allusion to the perennial villain on the typically Canadian animated TV series The Raccoons (as aired on the Canadian Broadcorping Castration, with concurrent presentation on The Disney Channel south of the 49th, from 1986 until 1991, with three specials beforehand, and is still on TV in occasional reruns--not to mention on home video for a new generation to enjoy)--a cigar-smorking pink aardvark with raspy voice to match as leaves his three porcine minions handling all his pis aller under threat of turning them into Melton Mowbray pies without warning--in the titling of this particular post.

And Your Correspondent somehow acknowledges being a closet fan of The Raccoons via YouTube of late.

But there do happen to be a few other Important Matters Worthy of Discussion here at this time, so let's proceed without further delay:

So North Korean leader Kim Jong Un thinks he can kowtow the world into submission under the Glorious Banner of the Juche Idea and its Ideal of the People-Centred Socialism--especially with official propaganda out of Beautiful Downtown Pyongyang claiming that its hotline to Seoul has been closed, the ceasefire ending hostilities in the Korean War, vintage 1953, is now null and void, and that it has the sovereign right to unilaterally provoke "sacred war" in its national interests.

And for what? To flip the bird at the United Nations over the imposition of fresh sanctions thus targeted by its Security Council, with China (otherwise North Korea's Good and Loyal Drookie, or so official propaganda is forever insisting) supporting alongside the United States. And as mentioned before, Beijing can get to be rather uneasy about North Korea's intentions and delusions of grandeur.

Meanwhile, on the "AmeriKKKa Should Be More Like China" front, the just-concluded annual session of the National People's Congress of the Chinese Communist Party in Beijing's Great Hall of the People announced, among other moves in the interest of stemming corruption in the bud towards efficiency and transparency, that its debt-laden Ministry of Railways is to be amalgamated into the Ministry of Transport, thence to be restructured as the China Railways Corporation.

Fans of SpongeBob Squarepants know that "Tartar sauce!" is a common euphemistic expletive on the show, usually said when SpongeBob is in a state of frustration or anxiety. "Tartar Sauce," it turns out, is the real name of what's become known among LOLcat fans as "Grumpy Cat," who put in a personal appearence this weekend at the South by Southwest Festival (SXSW) in Austin, Texas, with fans waiting in three-block-long queues for the opportunity to see and be photographed with Grumpy Cat at Mashable's booth.

Has Justin Bieber had his Fifteen Minutes of Fame,
judging by two of his recent London appearences translating into fan frustration, two Portugese shows having to be cancelled in recent days and the upcoming summer tour of America over the late spring and summer likely to see plenty of poor ticket sales and cancelled performances? If so, give us reruns of The Raccoons to kill the time.

A plebiscite whose result we'd love to hear about: The British Overseas Territory of the Falkland Islands (or, as it's known to the Argentine, Las Malvinas), over which a brief, largely naval-centrist, war was fought in 1982, held a plebiscite among its residents at the weekend over its future status.

Tomorrow, it all begins: The Great Conclave of 2013, to choose the next successor to St. Peter as the last supreem head of state in the world. Its participants: 115 members of the College of Cardinals in the Roman Catholic Church, all under 80 years of age, whence 77 votes (two-thirds of their number, plus one, in line with official Church doctrine in this respect, as 115 is not evenly divisible by three) secures the papacy.

And it all happens in the Sistene Chapel, with the balloting facility in front of Michaelangelo's "The Final Judgment." The ballots themselves being mere slips of paper which read (in Latin) "I elect as Supreem Pontiff--", with space for the electors to write in the name of their choice (and, know, in such manner as will not be easily recognised).

Once case, same to be folded twice and deposited accordingly, with balloting occuring twice daily (once tomorrow, the first day of the Conclave) ... and the results thereof known to the public only by the colour of smoke issuing from the chimney connected to two furnaces whence the ballots are burned after voting: Black smoke if there's no clear winner, white if the announcement Habemus Papam ("We have a Pope") is immiment.

But tomorrow, the announcement that actually starts the Conclave is the call Extra Omnes! ("Everybody out!"), which will be the final warning for unauthorised persons to leave the Sistene Chapel vicinity before the doors are closed and locked in the interim mid-afterlunch.

Closing on the subject of The Raccoons for this time around, a question I'd like to ask Bert, the main hero and protagonist thereof, relates to his fondness for the old peanut butter: "Creamy or crunchy?" (And besides, I hope he likes the old-school stuff, the sort where the oil needs to be stirred in beforehand.)

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