A Night At The Opera

It'll Never Happen
Can you picture it?  The orchestra finishes tuning-up, their conductor takes his position in the pit, the curtain goes up and we see the elaborate background for "Turandotte" - at which point a man asleep in the front row wakes from his slumber, realises he's fallen asleep after the Philip Glass Ensemble finished their concert, and staggers out, narrowly escaping the opening chorus.
     That man would be your humble scribe, dear readers.  I did once endure a rendition of "The Mikado" that my parents took me to see, which is a good forty years ago and an experience that won't be repeated again.  Conrad does not, as a rule, like opera, and the only bit that he's ever enjoyed listening to is - of course! - "The Ride of the Valkyries" because Apocalypse Now.

Charlie don't surf.  And, with a beach like that, you can't blame him ...

     Although, having said that, I did listen with some fascination to a piece broadcast on Radio Three a couple of weeks ago: opera - in Finnish.  Unlike the far more common Italian or German, opera in Finnish can only be dimly guessed at.  
     So, I say "never" which might be edited to "never unless it's in Finnish, and written by Aki Kaurismaki".  After all, who in 2004 would have predicted that 'Doctor Who' would return or, in 2016, that Alabama would have a Democrat elected senator?
     What?  What now?  Are you going to accuse me of nicking the title of a classic rock album that just so happens, by amazing coincidence, to mirror the blog title?
     Oh.  
     Nothing to do with Queen?  You expected an adulatory analysis of the Marx Brothers film of the same name?  I am so surprised I shall have to compel Art to add in an album cover.  Art?

No snidey remarx, please

      Well, I shall now have to go put the pasta on - my dinner is still a-cooking in the oven.  And, is that jar of pesto past it's sell by date in 2013 still usable?  I shall force-feed the motley a couple of tablespoons and find out!

Another Mention Of Matters Italian
I did allude, in today's earlier post, to a formation called the "Italian Co-Belligerent Forces", which might have thrown some of you who are not intimate with the complicated history of Italy in the Second Unpleasantness.

Don't worry - they're on our side!

     The ICBF were, notably, volunteers who had previously served with the Regio Esercito, back when they were the bad guys, or just patriotic Italians who wanted a chance to give the Fascist regime a boot up the bum.  By war's end there were 50,000 of them serving in combat units on the Italian front, and they rather shot down the stereotype of Italian soldiers being interested only in eating, drinking and surrendering.  Alan Moorehead, legendary war journalist, wrote of an action they fought in Italy, stating that nobody expected much of them - but, after suffering heavy casualties, they captured a Teuton position and brought back two field guns they'd captured.

Alan, looking pensive

     and now my tea beckons!

What On Earth?
It turns out that the jar of Sacla pesto that I bought only expired in January of this year, so it's almost in date.  It's somewhat dodgy taste is not because the jar is out of date, nor yet that I've kept it in the cupboard not the fridge, but because of the ingredients.  Art?

What?!

     Kale?  Seriously, kale?  Who thought it was a good idea to use this repellent vegetable to flavour pesto?  No wonder it's a Limited Edition, it tastes borderline disgusting.  The only reason I used it again tonight is because I paid a whole 65p for it; lord forfend that I'd paid full price!  (£2.00 for the curious).
     Allow me to wash the taste away with Warka, a Polish lager.
     There - better!

A tail of kale

Too Much Of A Good Thing.  Or A Bad Thing
Or, as they say in Lithuania, "Pilnakraujyste".  I refer - of course! - to that word which we users of obscure terms like to throw in now and again - "Plethora". Meaning, in it's current context, a whole lot of something.  Art?

Conrad's palms get all sweaty -

     It derives from the Greek "Plethein", meaning "To be full", although they were referring to bodily fluids, which sounds kind of disgusting, so we'll move on.  From there we got "Plethore" and by the 16th Century the word "Plethora" had arrived.  "Plethora" having appeared in this article three times, that now makes it official that we have had a plethora of plethora.

I think we shall have to wait until tomorrow for the explanation about "Interdiction fire".
Later!