On The Theme Of Bees -

Plus, Did Anyone Notice Yesterday's Different Font?
I bet not, you lot just take me for granted, don't you?  For example, I bet none of you noticed this different font, either, until I pointed it out.
     Okay, time to bring on the bee theme for today.  You out there who are not blessed with living in or near the mighty city of Gomorrah-on-the-Irwell (Manchester if we're being formal) can be forgiven for not knowing that the industrious bee is the city's symbol.  Because they're industrious insects themselves, I suppose, though not really fitting since the city's primary industry of the Nineteenth century was textiles, especially cotton, rather than honey.

This kind of thing

     <ponders sadly on the days of yore when he could dollop an ounce of honey into his pint mug of coffee to sweeten it>
     Let us now switch focus from spinning yarn to making music, and Conrad is going to educate you about the SWARMATRON!  I know this sounds like the kind of gadget some mad scientist would dream up that allows him to control bees and hold the world to ransom, and you're right up until the word "scientist".  Art?

Both swarmy and tronny

     It's a variety of electronic musical instrument, a synthesizer that uses eight oscillators and is played via a ribbon instead of a keyboard.  Think of it as another musical black box, except in a wood case and with a green finish.  They were dubbed the "Swarmatron" because they can be made to sound like a swarm of bees; they are handmade by their inventors the Dewan brothers, which makes them both rare and expensive - over £4,000 each in proper British money.
     Or you could just buy a hive of bees for about £200, which will get you honey, but no musical output.

"The keyboard abruptly became hard to use, as Conrad was drooling upon it."

     Right, comfort break!

     Okay, the old fat man is back.  Let us now move on to chastise <thinks>

Why Harry Potter Is Inherently Dangerous
Quite apart from having a Ricochet scar, and a badly-driven flying car.  I refer, of course, to his wand.  Not just his, if we're being nit-picky: all wizards everywhere.
     "What brought this bout of splenetic fervour on?" I hear you quibble, and pausing only to commend your use of a thesaurus, I shall explain.
     One of the innovations present in the Arndale Centre are video advertising stands, which boast constantly changing adverts, some of which are animated - such as this one.  Art?

Sic

     It was the spectacle of that anonymous hand casting a spell that made Conrad consider.  I mean, those things don't have a sight on them, do they?  

CAUTION!  Use eye-protection when wand-welding
(Or wielding)

     Nope, you just sling your wand in the approximate direction of what you intended to hit -and apparently cross the fingers on your other hand.  You could oh so-easily-miss, thus disintegrating your own foot - or that bus full of innocent passengers immediately behind your target.  What if you cough or sneeze at the exact moment of casting?  Or your gryphon hits a bit of clear air turbulence?  Or your inconsiderate opponent, you know, dodges?
     "The plaintiff is very sorry at having blown up The Shard, Your Honour, but he's got a bit of a cold," is not going to go down well, property values in London being what they are.
     At the very least they could stick sights on their wands.

Or a laser!  Everything goes better with lasers.

Cross At The Crossword
I didn't get a photograph, so you'll just have to take my word for this (I have an honest face).  Okay, the clue was along the lines of "Club that may help to improve the flow of writing (7)".
     I'll let you stew about that one for a few minutes.  See you on the other side -

"Big Week" By James Holland
This rather long book is all about Operation Argument, which at the time and afterwards was known as "Big Week", and it concerns a week in February 1944, when the Allies sought to establish air superiority over Occupied Europe and Germany.  Ol' Jim over-eggs the pudding a bit as to how vital this was if Operation Overlord, the amphibious invasion of mainland Europe, was to take place; but he does have a book to sell.  Art?

This book.

     What really tipped the scales for Big Week was the arrival of the P51 Mustang, a fighter capable of escorting bombers all the way to Berlin and back.  Conrad would like to point out here that it was designed for Perfidious Albion, and it only gained it's superlative performance by having a BRITISH Rolls-Royce engine installed.  But enough of gloasting.  The ethos of Big Week was for Allied bombers to hammer the Teuton's aircraft industry, whilst their fighters took on the Teuton's defending fighters.  Both strands of the strategy worked; the Luftwaffe lost over 500 fighters in a week, along with most of their pilots, and their ability to build aircraft was permanently hobbled.

A P51 being fast.  Also comes equipped with GUNSIGHTS.

     I may come back to this, as it was a long read and I'd like you to share my thoughts.  Whether you want to or not.

 - The Other Side
No!  Nothing to do with Gary Larson, though that one about a wolf in disguise about to sneak into Sid's Meats always gets me laughing.  Nor yet is it anything to do with that splendid track by Public Service Broadcasting.
     No, it's about that Cryptic Crossword clue.  Have you given up yet?
     NIBLICK was the answer.  If, like me, you had never heard of it before, that's because it's a very out-of-date term for a golf club.  And when was the last time you licked the nib of a pen?  Way back in eighteen-fifty seven.

I mean, really!

     So, I think you can see why Conrad is annoyed.  Golf, a sport he knows nothing about; not only that, a term that nobody has used for generations.
     Bah!