Mike Everman wrote:Oh, yeah, "Melted Yak Butter" LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!
You may laugh but it's not that far from truth. Viv refers to the plan my father and I had, once upon a time, for a publicity stunt.
In my pop's native area, a rural part of my country, in the dark days of Communism, there happened a glut of butter. Someone up un the All-Powerful Politburo got his sums wrong about some subsidy or other and the farmers produced a mountain of butter no one needed or wanted.
At roughly the same time, a local railroad line was recognized as a major loss-maker and closed.
While those momentous events were taking place, my old man and I were talking pulsejets. I was perhaps 15 or 16, My father is a research physicist (now long retired). He used to have his moments. We were talking big V-1-style monsters, built out of oil drums, with valveplates made out of scrap industrial ventilation duct covers (with big, ready-made hinged steel flaps).
Suddenly everything clicked together in our heads and we were planning to mount the big engine onto a rairoad maintenance cart, and having the thing roar along the abandoned track across the Moslavina County, belching fire, powered by -- yes, you guessed it -- melted surplus butter. Killing a great number of birds with one stone, as it were.
OK, so it was a prosaic Hollstein cow butter, rather than the yak variety, but still... I was a horny young man at the time and the thought of thundering along the valley at 100 mph belching fire made me come into my pants repeatedly.
Ah, the follies of youth. I'll never stop regretting the fact that we didn't do it, though we'd probably have ended up in jail. Our brand of Communism was admittedly rather different from all the others, more flexible, and displayed an occasional touch of whimsy, but it would probably have been a bit too much for the Politburo to swallow.