“Nazi economics sneers at supply and demand curves.”
“I wonder how we communicate with them.” “Distantly.” “Carefully.”
“What could possibly go wrong?” “…do you want a list?”
“There’s clearly somewhere to go, because they went there. Unless they’re Rail Nazis.”
(Clarification on that last one: we have found a huge, quite possibly cyclopæan, rail system under Antarctica. We have observed holdover Nazis - it’s the early 1950s - using it. But we don’t know where their base inside the tunnels may be, assuming they have one.)
I am reminded of a one off Champions game I played, where we played characters with useless superpowers. I was Microwave Man, who could properly reheat anything in any microwave. This did not make a difference in the climactic boss battle….
“You know, I used to be very fond of watching cricket, but I can’t do it now. Quite a little magic will upset a match. Last year I went to see the Australians playing against Gloucester, and just because I felt a little sympathetic with Gloucestershire the Australian wickets went down like nine pins. If I hadn’t left before the end they’d have been beaten. And after that I couldn’t go to any of the test matches. After all, one wants the best side to win.”
Indeed; sorry, this book (J. B. S. Haldane, My Friend Mr Leakey) was so much a part of my childhood that I forget other people don’t have it immediately to mind. For me it would be a candidate for a book to swear on.