If I Called You An Twerp -

You Would Likely Be Insulted
And rightly so, for not only does it mean you are a dim-witted addlepate, it's also grammatically incorrect.
     But fear not!  For Your Humble Scribe is not seeking to insult anyone, and is instead referring to the fair city of Antwerp, one of the biggest cities in Belgium and indeed one of the world's busiest ports.

Antwerp, busy making money

     For we are back in the days of August 1914 and the commencement of the First Unpleasantness, where the Royal Naval Division had been forked across the Channel and into the defence of Antwerp.  As detailed in "The Hood Battalion" that I am currently reading.
     The RND, it should be pointed out, was very much the creation of Winston Churchill, who was the kind of action-man politician you don't see much of nowadays.  A Daily Mail correspondent who had tagged along with the RND witnessed the appalling chaos on the roads as they attempted to get forwards and deploy in the front lines.  The roads in both directions were clogged with military transport, plus endless crowds of civilian refugees, all whirling round in utter confusion.

Enter - Winnie!

     Indeed, who should suddenly appear in the midst of this gigantic traffic jam but WC himself, bellowing orders and instructions until the whole lot disentangled and ran freely again.  He was there to see how the RND was getting on, since he loved sticking his nose in and there was nobody to stop him.  In fact, he even telegraphed back to the Prime Minister that he intended to resign as First Lord of the Admiralty, so he could command the defence of Antwerp specifically and Belgium generally.  This brought a predictably furious order to get back to his post upon This Sceptred Isle, soonest, and no mucking about.

Winnie, looking a bit doleful

     Here an aside.  Had he stayed, things might have gotten even more interesting, since a whole brigade of the RND north of Antwerp, cut off from retreat by the Teutons, took the option of crossing into Holland, where they were interned for the duration.  Imagine if WC had been amongst that lot ...
     Anyway, the RND's retreat from Antwerp was accompanied by extraordinary confusion and muddle, with orders going astray and units getting separated, all against a backdrop of endless refugees clogging the roads with their cattle and chattles.  The remaining two brigades managed to use the still-functioning Belgian rail network to get out in advance of the Teutons.

A handy map I just found

     Motley!  Sit down and enjoy this bowl of ice cream.  Have a mint julep with it.  Cigar?  Cheese board?  You're quite welcome.  Now, here's a set of antidotes, and you have to guess what we've just poisoned you with.  Good luck!*

Back On Top
"Top 10", that is.  You remember, the comic dreamed up by Alan Moore, where everyone in the gigantic city of Neotropolis is a super-hero, or was one, or is or was a super-villain.  Art?

     The TPB follows the daily lives of a group of police officers who attempt to deal with crime in this city.  Alan provides an interesting theoretical background to this proliferation of supers, stating that it began to boom in the Thirties, then hit a peak during the Second Unpleasantness.  After peace returned, all the supers who were now - ahem - superfluous, had to find more mundane jobs.  Then, in the Sixties, the supers population exploded as those who had settled down post-war got married and had families of their own.
     Part of the fun in reading this volume is seeing if you can pick up the in-jokes scattered in the backgrounds.  Art?

     Those desktop computers have a definite look of Robbie The Robot about them, and that chap sitting there seems to have a Shakespeare thing going on about him.  Not sure if the portly guy in the foreground is anyone specific; he does have the look of a middle-aged ex-super living, if not clinging onto, past memories.  Next

     My favourite nod so far: that there is Rorschach and Nite Owl locked up in the cells for some misdemeanour.  I guess Mister Moore can get away with that since he's the person who invented them in the first place.  Do I get brownie points for noticing?**

Port panel, starboard side

     This is, I think, an homage to the psychedlic artist Rick Griffin of Sixties fame.  Let me just go Google a tad to see if I've got that right.  Wait one -

In the same style

     Perhaps.  Perhaps not.***  That's enough homages and in-jokes for one post.

How Wonderfully Delicious!
No!  I'm not talking about the tagine, although it was.   No, I'm talking about the delightful sensation of bathing in a river of lovely cool toxins and heavy metals, rather than stuffy dull old water.
     Okay, let me introduce you to Paul Pogba.  Art?

Here he is

     This character is apparently a ballfoot player at The Manchester United.  Although Conrad knows nothing about the game, nor has he ever watched one, I do know from extensive perusal of the BBC's Have Your Say comments that this man is someone the The United fans hate, hate, hate.  He was bought for a fee of £89 million and gets a weekly wage of £300,000, or £15 million per annum, which is eye-watering enough on it's own.
     However!  The fans cannot shower enough opprobium on him quickly enough.  I have read about 350 comments of the 950 on his wanting to leave The United, and only 3 have been positive about him, and I'm pretty sure 2 of those were being ironic and sarcastic.  The fans cannot see the back of him quickly enough and several have offered to drive him to whichever ballfoot club that buys him, in order to get him gone soonest.  He is seen as lazy, selfish, greedy, not really that good at ballfoot and far more interested in Instagran (not entirely sure what this is) than the The Manchester who pay his wages.

Paul's hourly wages

     The funniest and most apt Comment I've seen was: "Paul Pogba is the most important player in the life of Paul Pogba. Paul Pogba is bigger than any club because Paul Pogba is Paul Pogba."
     I apologise for boring you with mysterious technical details about the ballfoot game, but as I said, a good wallow in some poisonous liquid always perks me right up.

A delicious assortment of cocktails.

*  Don't worry, motleys are robust.
**  No, because it wasn't that clever to begin with <the horrid truth courtesy Mister Hand>
***  Code for "This fat biffer cannot be bothered looking or trying to find out, as that would require an effort" <more horrid Mister Hand truths)