Boy! About The Mad

I'm Sorry I Couldn't Resist It
And NO! that is not Conrad demonstrating the ravages of senility, excessive gin or being hit around the head repeatedly with blunt instruments.  Yes, it is a sly reference to a song title "Mad About The Boy", which I had to point out as it's positively ancient and none of you whippersnappers have ever heard of it.
     It dates from 1932 and is probably subtly risque and all to do with fornication, which we won't go into here - still SFW don't you know.

This boy, you can go mad for.

     Anyway, what I refer to is 'Mad' magazine, a South Canadian fixture since the Fifties, which has been poking mildly satirical fun at their own culture all that time, until now.  Now, it has hit the point where it's audience are all dead, being dinosaurs who hailed from the Fifties themselves, and because it doesn't work in memespeak or TXT, the younger generation cannot read nor understand it.  Art?

Do I really have to explain what this is a skit of?  Really?

     'Mad' probably thought it was roasting the Establishment's feet with a blowtorch, when in fact it was lightly tracing a peacock feather over them.  You want satire?  Go read "La Canard Enchaine".  Still, Mad was amusing at times and proved a palliative to things like 'Archie' or 'Richie Rich'.  Though it couldn't hold a candle to Marvel or DC, or Dark Horse in later years.  Let us salute it's passing with a moment's silence, a bowing of the head and a bucket of gin.
     Hohoho - after peeling off the motley's outer layer of skin, we are going to pursue it with paintball guns - firing paintballs filled with nitric acid!*


Big And Little Bang Theory
Conrad is slightly perturbed.** I am not sure how, exactly, but I have come across an internet publication, a replica from 1918 that details all the  British, French and German hand-grenades from the First World War.  The South Canadians, you see, were gearing up to wage Massive Continental-Sized Warfare in 1919, and they had a formidable library of documents that detailed the weapons being used by their allies and enemies.  Art?

This, folks is a rara avis indeed

     I dare not close the tab, nor navigate away from it, since I don't think I'd be able to get back there again, and this is just what I've been looking for to describe and illustrate all the hand-held horrors of the First Unpleasantness.  These things are so obscure that Google simply won't pick up on them.
     That constitutes the "Little" part of this post.  What I really wanted to talk about was the History of the 12th Division during the First Unpleasantness, and let us note that at page 66 it records a Teuton counterattack in early August, where the unloved Prussians used flamethrowers - and egg grenades.  Art?
                           

     Those grenades to starboard are the standard Teuton stick-grenades, which can be thrown a long way, thanks to the prominent handle.  The thing is, they didn't have that much bang inherent in them; you could allegedly pull the cord on one of these "potato-mashers", balance it upon your helmet and be left with nothing but a headache when it went off.  Thus, the egg grenade to port above, which was a lot smaller, could only be flung a relatively short distance, but which did a lot more damage when it went off.
     Aaaand I was going to go on about the artillery support for the 12th's attack of 12th August 1916, which would have been the "Big" part of this bang, except I've banged on rather too much on this topic already.  So  -

A tranquil and pacific hog wallow.

Talking Of Hog Wallows -
At the risk of offending Michael Eavis, let us return to the SLIGHTLY DANGEROUS categories of Health & Safety criteria at Glastonbury, shall we?  These have nothing like the hilarity potential of the HIGHLY DANGEROUS and REALLY STILL QUITE DANGEROUS headings, but we'll do our best, okay?
"MODERATE RISK":
'Dehydration' - this is the invert counterpart to hypothermia, with the blessing that you are highly unlikely to ever suffer from both symptoms at the same festival.  Still, British weather and all that -
     One contributing factor to this risk is - alcohol.  Anyone with a vehicle loads it up with booze until the suspension creaks, and then they feel honour-bound to finish the lot.  Then again, standing in a field for twelve hours, eight of those in blazing sunshine in temperatures that rise to as much as 14 or 150 Centigrade - that'll do it, too.

"I was waiting for Marillion - but I got Slipknot!"

'Noise' - Really?  "Noise"?  At a MUSIC FESTIVAL? Dear me this isn't so much a Moderate Risk as Part Of The Sonic Landscape.  IT'S EXPECTED!
     Let me be clear here: if there isn't a risk of noise YOU'RE DOING IT ALL WRONG.

This is what we want!

'Illness' - which they helpfully define as "sunburn, sexual health" and nothing interesting like 'Bubonic plague' or 'Rikesstial Q", or - my personal favourite - the "Rage virus".  A bit of a non-event, this one.  Plus, being SFW, we're going nowhere near the 'sexual health' one.
     There are a few generic headings remaining under "No rating given" but none appear to be particularly relevant - "Violence" is one of them.  At Glasto?  With an audience that consists of hippies?  As one attendee I knew remarked, it's so expensive to attend that the chavs and neds are automatically priced-out of going.***

"I wanted Slipknot - and I got Marillion!"
(Subtext:  Grrr!  I am jolly annoyed)

Finally -
Dog Buns!  Is "STITCHCRAFT" a proper word?  It's the answer to one of today's Metro Cryptic Crossword clues, after I'd guessed at the far more likely NEEDLECRAFT.  I would call that bordering on unfair.  Plus, one clue is "Imply no part of the Divine Comedy (7)", which is a work I've never read and barely have an outline of; by Dante Aligheri if I recall correctly, and I'll need to Google the answer.  Obviously it's an anagram of "IMPLYNO" but - dammit, is it any wonder there are 7 clues I've not gotten yet?
     Enough whinging, let us be off and Google Dante's answer -

     INFERNO.  THE B***** ANSWER IS INFERNO!  Grrr!  I am jolly annoyed.

Yeah!  But perhaps not what our Renaissance Italian poet intended, Art

*  Diluted a bit.  We're not monsters.
**  This explains so much <the horrid truth courtesy Mister Hand!>
***  There's still Reading for them.