The Mark Of A Civilised Society

You Can Debate The Metrics Of Same
But I would like to put this out there, after reading and finishing "Monty's Men" by Professor John Buckley (it won an award, you know!).  As he wrote, during the liberation of the Netherlands ("Holland" is only one of the provinces) one of Perfidious Albion's soldiers was told by a Dutch civilian that they had to walk in the gutter if there were Teuton soldiers on the pavement ("sidewalk" for our South Canadian cousins).  However, observed this same civvie, British soldiers would rather walk in the gutter themselves than force people off the pavement.  A minor point, perhaps, but one that resonated with the Dutch.  ART!

STAND TO ATTENTION!

     That's the book I have.  I bring this up because in the film "A Bridge Too Far" (to which we will be returning, O yes indeedy Ally Sheedy) Anthony Hopkins, playing Major Frost as he was at the time, pulls the doorbell of a Dutch house alongside the Arnhem bridge, several times, before the residents appear.
     "I'm terribly sorry," he states, "But we're going to have to occupy your house."  ART!

Upper lip stiffened by moustache

     Well there you go.  As the title for today says, how polite can you be when commandeering some hapless civilian non-combatant's house?  The Dutch were so taken with Major Frost's reticence that today the bridge in Arnhem has been renamed the "John Frostbrug", which is Dutch for "John Frost Bridge", even though John had profound doubts about this - you know, reticence; bone-deep in this chap.  As a possibly cheap rejoinder, one can ask how many nations who endured Teuton occupation have requested a bridge be renamed in their honour?

That's a frickin' impressive bridge

     Hey, motley, do you want to go for a canal boat sojourn?

A Cake Of Note
Or so I emote.
     This is probably giving away too much information about my Still Coyly Not Identified Employer After Two And A Half Years, but what the heck, I doubt anyone reading this will either know who it is or be bothered.  And anyway I've been careful never to diss them.
     So!  There is a company Christmas advert, which pops up by default on our screens if we are idle for 20 seconds

     It features this cake, oh, excuse me - PAUSES BRIEFLY TO RANT AT DIABETES thank you so much! - which hit me as an almost physical force, because it reminded me of some other artefact, and one definitely not to do with cake.  What the blue flying flip was it?
     And, walking back to desk after a - you don't need to know - back to desk, I remembered: Buckminster Fuller!
      What do you mean, "Buck who?"  Art?

ART YOU BAFOON!
<sizzling sounds as Tazer is charged>

     Let's try that again, shall we?

Bucky and his geodesic dome

     Ol' Bucky (who would probably hate me for calling him that) was a bit of a renaissance man, but is today best remembered for designing that there dome above, which is geodesic, meaning <Googles hastily> the shortest route between two points on the surface of a sphere.  You may laugh now, but when the cities of Earth go Okie, then you'll be sorry.

He was right about horror films so he's going to be right about this.

     That cake, now - it can only have been created by the unholy merging of computers and confectioners, which is surely a sign that the End Times are upon us.
     Die, Die, Spotify
Only joking!  <conceals crossed fingers behind back>.  You might say this is a slight case of The Past Is Another Country And What Was I Thinking When I Got That Tattoo*?
     - is that piker Mister Hand stirring up excrement about me again?  Treacherous appendage!  <a short wrestling match ensues which both parties lose>
     Anyway, there I was, scrolling through my old, old Spotify playlist, wondering why on earth that speed metal band (Dragonlance?) was on there, as they wear out their welcome after a single song.  Then I came across a track dubbed "Modern Inventions" by The Submarines.  Art?

Yes, very Beatle-y

     It's really good!  Good enough for me to track down more info about them, although knowing of the Curse of Conrad, they've probably already broken up.  Props to the Conrad of many years ago - thanks, old chap.

The Muse Strikes!
<clears throat theatrically, brings on a fit of coughing> 
 
      

How many millions can you stuff in a sphere?

You will not find the answer here.

Indeed, the only stuffing you'll find on this blog

Is what United fans want to do to the Paul called Pog

     All my own work.
     Really, you don't need to know anything about the ballfoot game to find the saga of this Paul Pogba chap interesting, as it concerns one of the most basic human vices there is: greed.  The background to the story is that Fergie, who juggled a successful musical career alongside managing The Manchester United**, got rid of PP way back when as he couldn't stand him or his ethos.  Then, years later, TMU pay £89 million for him, and a big fat finder's fee to PP's agent, an utter sleazebag called Mino Raiola.  Art?

PP and MR

     MR is later barred from agenting because, not only did he burn down the orphanage, he made the fire engines pay to gain access.  Something sleazy and sordid, anyway.
     PP's ballfoot performance is consistently abysmal; the fans regard him as a lazy, greedy mercenary more interested in "dabbing" (whatever that is), Instagram and his hairdo than his football club. 

Dabbers, apparently

     Suddenly!  MR is able to start agenting again and the press is suddenly full of stories about PP wanting to "move on", "challenge himself", play  "for a bigger team", which the fans all decode as meaning "I want more money"(!).  MR starts bragging about a transfer to Plastic Real Madrid, when TMU step in and put the brakes on, since they want - waitforitwaitforit - £180 million for PP.  They are determined to get their 87 kilos of flesh, hmmm?***
     End of transfer.
     Mind you, it may not have happened anyway, since having a lazy, greedy, Instagram obsessed dabber in your ballfoot team is a bit of a downer.
     MR, with hilarious irony, accuses TMU of being "Greedy".  Clearly this man has both no shame nor mirrors in his house.

And then some

     See?  We didn't need to mention anything about the ballfoot game itself.  Human frailty - fascinating stuff!

Finally -
I don't want to go on too long and bore you, so I shall wrap this up by saying tomorrow is Christmas Day, and you might only get the one post, as Conrad is likely to be wrapping himself around some Christmassy food.  Though not mince pies.  THANK YOU DIABETES!

The enemy

*  Conrad will never get a tattoo as he is a big fat coward <the shocking truth courtesy Mister Hand!>
**  I think.  I'm a bit hazy on the details.
***   Metric because Madrid.