I love posh English aristocratic women.

Obviously I'm not including any Princess Anne alikes in this statement because, well, she's dead and digging a six foot hole puts my back out. I'm talking about rich, educated, well spoken ladies with class. Its like a fetish in that as soon as I hear Kristen Scott Thomas say "Oh, I couldn't possibly hunt another fox today," I start to feel all funny in the luggage compartment. It's even better when they kick ass. Needless to say, Dame Diana Rigg was my favourite Bond girl and watching the Avengers during my formative years gave me strange ideas about male-female relationships.

But there is one who's combination of stately old world manners and completely and utter ruthlessness is utterly compelling to me. One who's only concern about machine gunning a fleeing man from her distinctive Rolls Royce is whether she'll be home in time for tea. My first true love who greeted me every Saturday morning at 6am for the first ten years of my life.

I talk of course about Lady Penelope Creighton Ward.

If you wish hard enough Jazzyjay, I'll become a real girl.

For those three of you who have no idea who the hell she is, Lady Penelope was an agent of International Rescue, who's exploits were detailed in the 1960s show, the Thunderbirds. The titual Thunderbirds were five giant machines manned by the five Tracy Brothers who each week would save people from various calamaties, acts of God, atomic clouds and gigantic mutant crocodiles.

HOORAY! No, wait, I mean BOOOO!

They did this by use of various fantastic and impausible machines that would always be the perfect solution to the trouble at hand. It was the sort of thing a six year old boy lapped up and lap it up I did.

OF COURSE!

However I've been watching the show again and have realised something. What in my memory was a bunch of nice guys saving people with cool machines has been to revealed to be altogether... dark.

International Rescue was a para-military hitech rescue organisation who paid no heed to international boundries or law. They were headed up by a reclusive billionaire who never left his Pacific Island home and who had powerful international connections. They were staffed by his immediate family and a few trusted allies and operated under a heavy veil of secrecy, just like other reputable international aid organisations such as, oh I don't know, the MAFIA! They were heavily armed and so paranoid about secrecy that they thought of nothing about killing anyone who discovered their identities. Just like THE MAFIA! And I'm not talking about ambiguious use cutting lasers - I'm talking about gatling guns and automatic cannon here. Do the crew of the Surf Rescue chopper wear sidearms? No, they don't and that's why they were killed by the Tracy boys for knowing too much.

International Rescue's secret base was a tropical island in the South Pacific. You've got to admit that really kicks the ass of all those pussy do-gooders who spend 25 years practising medicine in New Delhi slums. Sure, you may have a Noble prize for helping the legless Hindi beggers with their bedsores, but when you got that prize, did you have a BITCHING ISLAND TAN? No way. Think about that when you're picking rat droppings out of your poor but honest dinner in that tin shack you laughably call a Medical Practise. Tracy Island was an awesome fun park of rescue. The main problem with filming the Thunderbirds was... well... you probably noticed it by now but they were puppets. Sorry, sorry, fat rabid fans, they were SUPERMARIONETTES! This was cool for most of the time when everyone was sitting around but as soon as anyone had to walk anywhere it looked... stupid.

So, the creators of the Thunderbirds solved that by avoiding having the SUPERMARIONETTES walk whenever possible. Entire episodes would go by where everyone saves the world while reclining in a comfy chair. Amnesty International tells me that you can't save the world sitting down, but then they've never seen the Thunderbirds. They had two main ways of dealing with this. One was mobile computer consoles. These were basically computer consoles that were motorised, which, apart from anything else, is the dream of Internet trolls everywhere. Come on, you know that if you could you would drive your computer desk down to the shops to get some milk. You'd probably check out some amputee porn while you were doing it, wouldn't you, you sicko! Sendlink pls.

Look out! He's catching up! ALT+F4! ALT+F4! Minimise all!

Alright, lets play a little game here called USE YOUR IMAGINATION. Imagine you're a top gun fighter pilot. No, you're not Maverick. No, not Iceman either. You're Cougar. That's right, you pooped your plane pants because some Commie got behind you. Deal with it. The boss says "Holy shit!? Unauthorised scrabble game in sector 5! DEAL WITH IT!" So of course you run out to your plane and twelve minutes later little Rummy Rumsfield is apologising for blowing up a pre-school. But if you're a SUPERMARIONETTE, well, running is out of the question. So when some schmuck needs rescuing, what do you do? You sit on the couch and IT takes you to your Thunderbird.

If you're American or perhaps aren't that familiar with 60s TV shows that used to be on in Australia at 6am on a Saturday morning 10 years ago, you might like to consult this handy reference guide to the boys of Tracy Island.

	Jeff Tracy Jeff is the dad and was the first man to revisit the moon when we started going again (or, if you're a FOX network watcher, he was the first man on the moon, period.) He was also one of the richest men in the world and sole commander of the Thunderbirds. So, as you can imagine, he was a real dick. One time, one of his sons was trying to get laid, and Jeff came on the communicator and yelled at him in front of the chick. THANKS DAD. Busting up my dates was annoying when I was a teenager, but now I'm 28 and save the world on a regular basis. Can you please let me get my dick sucked?
	Scott Tracy Scott was the eldest son, in charge of field operations and had the fastest ship, Thunderbird 1. As you can imagine, he too was a dick. Mind you, apart from occasionally machine gunning fleeing camera men, he didn't do much. He got to the rescue site sure, but then just sat up his little control console and waited for everyone else to arrive, bitched at them about how what they were doing was wrong and then took the credit. In the real world he'd be an IT Project Manager OOOOH BURN!! Console Wars
	Virgil Tracy Virgil, the second eldest, drove Thunderbird 2, the big green one that carried all the rescue equipment. If Thunderbirds was written by George Orwell, Virgil would symbolise the working class. He flew the rescue equipment to rescue site, used the rescue equipment to rescue the rescuees and then flew the rescue gear home, while Scott held press conferences. He also lights my cigerettes when I'm drunk, which makes him, as the Japanese would say, 130% HAPPY GOOD GUY! Dad! Jazzyjay's fallen off his barstool and he can't get up!
	John Tracy John's job was to sit in Thunderbird 5, the Space Station, and monitor the worlds radio traffic looking for distress signals and it's a wonder that he didn't take a long walk out of a short airlock. Not because he was stuck up in space all alone and was basically a glorified space receptionist, no. His job was to moniter ALL of the worlds commincations. Imagine that for a moment: You know how annoying it is when you're on the bus and some chick is talking to her friend on a mobile about how Brad's dick is like totally so small? Well, imagine listening to EVERYONE SINGLE ONE OF THOSE CONVERSATIONS AT ALL TIMES. The miracle was not how he managed to monitor it all 24/7, the miracle was how he still thought humanity was something worth saving.
	Gordon Tracy Gordon was an enigma, because he should have sucked - but didn't. You see, Gordon drove the Submarine, Thunderbird 4 and therefor was only good on water rescues, afflicting him with what the professors at Hero U call "Aquaman Syndrome." This is where the water specialist is assumed to be a useless pussy who can't do anything else. Yet, somehow, every second rescue needed Gordon to go for a swim. There was an episode where they needed to stop a nuclear reactor from exploding in the SAHARA FUCKING DESERT and Gordon still was vital to the mission. And the episodes where he didn't get to drive his lovely yellow submarine, what did he do? He rode along with Virgil and drove whatever insane vehicle came out of the pod this time. You might only remember Gordon for saying "Will you need me on this one Dad? Oh, okay then. I'll be by the pool if anyone needs me." but the fucker was the puppet equivelent of Steve fucking McQueen. In this picture, Gordon is firing one of his brothers into the belly of crashing plane. I'm not kidding.
	Alan Tracy If Gordon was cool because he should have sucked but didn't, then Alan was the balance to this aberation. Alan was a champion race car driver and flew Thunderbird 3, the Spaceship, so he should have rocked, right? WRONG! He was the biggest whinging pussy you'll ever be rescued by. He was the youngest Tracy brother and boy did you know it. I'm amazed that TB3 was able to get into space at all, considering the size of this guy's inferiority complex. And it's not like his brothers ever teased him or put woodworm in his bed while he slept or anything. No, as far as I can work out, his pathetic desire to win the approval of his brothers was just to compensate for being the youngest. Sure, I can understand that, but if I'm in a rocket that's falling into the Sun, I'd want my only hope to be a little more reliable than the kid who ate worms in primary school just to get attention. 'Nuff said.
	Brains Brains was a Tracy brother in everything but for name and was the resident genius who invented all of International Rescue's machines. Brain's may have had glasses that you could fry ants with and a stutter that made him sound like a skipping CD player but he was a inspiration for nerds everywhere. Sure, inventing the machines is genius enough, but the fucker built them without anyone else's help. Have you ever assembled an Ikea cupboard by yourself? It took you all day, and you ended up bruised, bleeding and with a throat raw from cursing, didn't you? And you still did it wonky, even though it's only a fucking cupboard. Well, Brains managed to build spaceships that carried tonnes of insane rescue equipment from one end of the earth to the other at 7000mph and still had enough time to freelance for the US Government and invent the Robot. And you? Well, Mister Lopsided Swedish Solutions For Modern Living, you're pathetic. Right about now - the funk soul brother. ROCKERFELLA ROCKERFELLA!
	Lady Penelope The opening credits claim that Penny was their London Agent, but have a think for a minute and try to remember what her job actually was. She never went on rescues. All she did as sit around drinking tea, talking in a posh accent and telling Parker, her chauffer, "Home, please." And kill people. Lady Penelope was International Rescue's James Bond. If someone had managed to take a picture of one of the Thunderbirds, Penelope was dispatched to 'take care of them.' And by 'take care of them' I mean machine gun them from her heavily armed Rolls Royce, which at times was known to turn into a hydrofoil. Of course. PINK = GAY but PINK + 6 WHEELS + HYDROFOIL + MACHINE GUNS = NOT GAY She was ably assisted by Parker, her chauffer and butler, who is revealed to be, in a later episode, a former heavy of the London underworld. So we've got a member of the British upperclass who is teamed with one of the Kray brothers, who's job is murdering paparazzi. Lady Penelope, where were you when Princess Diana needed you? I 'appen to be hintending to fuck thee senseless, mi' lady. I am assuming that in 2060, fox hunting is illegal because Lady Penelope has a heap of pent up bloodlust that she just couldn't wait to release. Maybe it was because her eyes were made of glass but every time she sent another screaming paparazzi to that big Daily Mirror in the sky, her vision became a little glazed in a 'yes... yessss...' kinda way.
PS: Hey Jeff! That's some nice "Rescue Art" you're standing in front of. NOW GET BACK TO WORK!

I seriously have no idea why they were so paranoid about security. Occasionally, they claimed it was to protect their technology but WHY? You're five guys who have to deal with the entire worlds rescue needs. Why is it so important that no one knows how you do it? It's not like you are charging for it. Here's an observation: BENEVOLENT NON-PROFIT AGENCIES DON'T WORRY ABOUT MONOPOLIES!

And it's not as if these guys where the Unknown Soldiers in the first place. Before they founded Thunderbirds, each had a high profile job that had definite celebrity status. Ignoring Dad being the Astronaut equivelent of Rupert Murdoch, each of the son's was famous in their own right. For example, Alan was a champion racing car driver, Scott was a heavily decorated fighter pilot in the USAF, John is a world famous astronomer, Gordon was an Olympic swimmer and Virgil was a fucking concert pianist. That's like you falling down a well and Michael Shoemacher, Chuck Yeager, Stephen Hawking, Ian Thorpe and Richard Clayderman turning up to rescue you. Sure, you might not have a camera but you're certainly going to remember the Rescue Ranger equivelent of TIME magazine's Great Men of the 21st Century.

But worry about secrecry they did because there was one bald, evil (that's a tautology, right?) guy who was determined to get pictures of the Thunderbirds and obtain THEIR SECRETS at any cost. I'm not certain how snapping a picture of a plane means you have their secrets, but I'm not complaining. I've got me a picture of Kylie, and now I know exactly why she's spinning around. And on what.

Thank you t-shirt.com. Now I don't need to caption this picture - oh, wait.

Incase being bald and having glowy hypno eyes and a bedazzler wasn't evil enough, he was named THE HOOD, which I think was a reference to his constant use of face masks and wigs. This guy had diguises than the Mission Impossible crew and they must have been pretty good because the Thunderbirds never really were aware of his existance. They never refered to him by name or said "Gee, Dad, someone's taking a picture of the TB1! I bet it's the Hood!" Even in the last episode, when he turns up, they're all like "Who are you and why are you taking pictures of us?" Being an evil genius is hard work and I'm sure it's very depressing when your nemesis doesn't even know who you are.

The people of the future are morons. Everytime they need International Rescue is because they've tried to do something that was stupid to begin with and then fucked it up. In one episode they tried to move the Empire State building out of Manhattan but dropped it in the water. CALLING INTERNATIONAL RESCUE!!! Another time, they tried to drive a truck carrying a rocket ship (with the Astronauts already aboard the rocket, no less) across a bridge, but the bridge broke and they fell in the water. CALLING INTERNATIONAL RESCUE!!!

Basically, the people of the future are those dumb loveable kids from the Special Ed class who try to be normal but keep on getting their heads caught in the stair bannisters or their shoelaces tied to the ceiling fan and International Rescue is the patient but long suffering teacher who endures bites, kicks and macaroni love cards to kiss their owies.

To illustrate this, I've taken the set-up to the rescue in the Thunderbirds movie, THUNDERBIRDS ARE GO. The basic deal is that the first manned mission to Mars has just landed and they're tooling around in their Space Humvee. I'm assuming that the first men on Mars are going to be pretty much the best canidates for the job, so what you are seeing here is the CREAM OF 21ST CENTURY SOCIETY.