The Terror Of Victory

To Steal A Phrase

I hope you will forgive your humble scribe's mention of this phrase, as it alludes to - POLITICS!  which is normally avoided here like the seeds of the rosary pea*.  Not only politics, but Brexit at that, which means trespassing into Current Affairs.  I haven't managed to work in the Archbishop of Canterbury (yet) so one of our treasured principles remains intact.  I believe the phrase comes from one of the Guardian's writers and was invoked on the day the "Leave" vote prevailed.  It refers, since you no doubt wonder, to the look on Boris Johnson's face when the truth hit home.  Very much an "Oh crap what have I done!" moment.

Well, yeah

     And so to Conrad.  Your modest artisan's face went pale - paler than it's usual wan tones, anyway - on seeing how many hits BOOJUM! occasioned yesterday**.  And even today - 98 hits by 7 a.m.  What's going on?

     "Surely you jest!" I can hear you chortle.  "Finally, your finely-crafted nonsense is receiving the recognition it most definitely shouldn't."
     That's the worry.  How many of those visitors are blood-sucking legal reps from the entities Conrad regularly slanders with vituperative glee?  As if I don't have enough to worry about already, what with UNIT and SPECTRUM.

Bunch of killjoys, if you ask me ...

Take That - Back

I have an aside to add to yesterday's post about the man band.  Come on, they're a bit long in the tooth to be called 'boys' any more.  A couple of decades ago Conrad experienced phone harassment from fans of TT, who had acquired his phone number under the hideously incorrect belief that he was one of the boys, back when they were boys.  So, they were already on my hit list.

     I have mellowed a little since then.  But they'd better behave themselves from now on.

Beware the weaselnana!
Sorry, no interesting photos of TT available

Catch Twenty Who?

No!  Not some terrible play on words about The Doctor.  This takes a while to get going, so make sure you've got a brew and biscuits to hand.  Picture a meeting at work.

    "Don't breathe!" I was instructed by Emily, which, given that she has nails like the tiger's talons, is not a caution to be taken lightly.

     How we laughed!  Or at least Emily did.  Conrad merely swallowed gratefully.

     She meant the horror film "Don't Breathe", of course, and had absolutely nothing against your humble scribe's continued respiration.

     None of the above has anything to do with what follows.  If you're new here - actually let me interrupt and add in a bit of explanation.

"ART": Responsible for the blog's picture content, Art is a lower form of life.  Favourite foodstuff?  Coal.  IRMA (I Rest My Assertion).

"UPSTAIRS LAIR": Conrad's Mancave, full of books, beer, sweets, Historical Miniature Replicas, CDs, DVDs and comics.  Football and car content: 0%

"THE MANSION": Where we live.  A spacious des. res., with picturesque views of the rolling countryside, excellent travel connections, good local pubs, command-detonated minefields and triple-dannert razor wire.

"EDNA WUNDERHUND": Mobile alarm system, supercharged to operate at 180 decibels.  Also a good ratter.

"THE ELECTRIC GOLDFISH BOWL": Where Conrad works, or at least the place that houses the desk he sits and dozes at.

     Thus you are armed and armoured with intelligence enough to venture down these means streets - oh no, hang on, that's Dashiell Hammett, isn't it?

     "What was that film where Alan Arkin, pretty much against type, plays a vicious gangster terrorising a blind girl?  Was Audrey Hepburn in it?" queried your talented typist.

     ("Wait Until Dark" 1967 if you cannot live without knowing)

Alan being evil.  Almost - waitforitwaitforit - Alan Darkin

     'I don't recognise any of those names,' commented young Adam, meaning him getting a slap across the chops was an event getting likelier by the second.  Still, Conrad choked down his rightful wrath, or even his Frothing Nitric Ire***, and tried to think of a film Adam might be familiar with.

     " 'So I Married An Axe Murderer'  'Grosse Point Blank' 'Freebie And The Bean'?" all to blank looks.

     "Aha!" growled your humble artisan.  " 'Catch 22!' "

     Nope.  Still blank looks.

Alan again.  And yes, that is Art Garfunkel

     Sigh.  The youth of today, eh?

Joseph Heller, Talented Feller
Him being the author of "Catch 22", first published 1961.  Adam had never heard of the novel and had difficulty grasping what your modest scribe was going on about.  Katie, on the other hand, did have the book - but hadn't actually read it.  Pete - noble and literate Pete! - had indeed read the book, which proved he'd heard of it.  The two are not always connected.

I like this cover design.

We have now reached what Conrad calls "the count", being the total of 750 words, the minimum he feels he can fob you, the audience, off with.


* An unbelievably poisonous plant.
** 298
*** I do like this expression.