Sprong! You Know It Makes Sense

Actually You Probably Don't Because -
It doesn't exist, except in Conrad's imagination and here on BOOJUM!
     I can see you backing away towards the exits - STOP RIGHT THERE!
     Sprong got invented in order to pre-empt the equally bizarre artefacts and products that Facebook and Twitter both kept "suggesting".  
     So -

Scanning electron microscope picture of Sprong*.

Ronald Adam
You recall that yesterday I was banging on about Spitfires and Jeffrey Quill and 65 Squadron?  Well Mr Quill goes on to describe one of the controllers based at the Hornchurch aerodrome, one Ronald Adam.  Anyone who knows British character actors will know him:

Ex-RAF pilot and actor acting as an RAF pilot

     He started off as a theatre manager, then got into acting, but before that he'd been shot down at the end of WW1 (probably by the Red Baron) before returning to the RAF in the Second Unpleasantness as an RAF controller, those chaps who gave guidance and advice over the radio.  Jeffrey says his calm and reassuring demeanour was worth oodles to stressed or lost pilots.

"I say, old chap, steady on with the compliments.  British reserve and all that.!

"Epigram"
No, nothing to do with diabetes, this word surfaced in the sewagey stew that passes for Conrad's mind.  What is it, exactly?
     It had a look of Greek about it, and I was correct, it comes from the Greek "Epigramma", meaning "inscription", since it refers to a short, involving, often satirical statement.  Like this one.

Contrails
I took this photo early in the morning, standing at the bus stop and listen to a whole lot of birds making a racket about how much they liked being birds.

Contrails, right there

     "Contrails" is a contraction of "Condensation trails", formed when the water vapour from burnt aviation fuel condenses at high altitude where the air is cold.
     Now, if you want to indulge in the twenty-first century equivalent of paying to see the lunatics at Bedlam, go on over to Google and put in "chemtrails".
     The raving conspiranoid loonwaffles out there believe that contrails are actually eeeeevil government planes spraying eeeeevil chemicals over the land for unspecified but undoubtedly eeeeeevil purposes.
     Whatever.

"Seeking Victory On The Western Front" - By Albert Palazzo
Got this yesterday, finally, after they rowed it over the Atlantic.  It examines the British Army and it's approach to chemical warfare, as an exemplar of the entire army's learning curve over the war.
     Chemical warfare - essentially gas warfare - has a terrible reputation, which Conrad considers rather odd.  It is, apparently, perfectly acceptable to turn a chap into a human colander by perforating him with machine gun bullets, or rendering him into Chum dog food by blasting him with high explosive shells, but - O my lord no!  Gas not the done thing.

An officer wearing the Respirator, Box, Small
(Also known as "The Goggle-eyed bugger with the tit")

     This is what the British and French would do when the Germans introduced another type of war gas - the mighty German chemical industry gave them a considerable early lead here - throw up their hands in horror, then point them accusingly, then go away and copy the gas and dish it back in ten times the volume.
     Anyway, Palazzo - who sounds Italian but is Australian writing about the British and being published in America - takes a cool and analytical look at the development over time of this method of war-fighting.  I shall let you know more.

Oh.  Coincidence.  What Are You Doing In MY Seat?
One of the types of call that Conrad takes at work is from managers in GI.  They aren't very common, and in fact most calls that come through on that line are by people picking it at random in desperation as they run out of other options to press.
     So, Conrad bethought himself this morning.  "I'd better refresh my knowledge of what to do with a GI call if one comes in."

No!
Hmmm.  Yeah, nothing says "Rocking 21st Century weapons like a sword." 

     Seconds after finishing this re-reading, along comes a genuine GI call from a proper manager, which you have to admit it p DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!  JUST DON'T!  NEXT TIME COUGH OR SOMETHING!

Shakeshaft
And here we take on King Lear.  Go for it, Weary Leary:

"I shall have such revenge on them both,

That all the world shall -

I will do such things  -

What they are, yet I know not, but they shall be

The terrors of the earth"

     You're going to deliberately fart in the lift, aren't you, you horrid old trout?
     Bam!  Take that Will Shakespeare.


* Maybe