Beyond Bizarre

 - And Well Into Head-Scratching Territory

There is a scurrilous rag here in This Sceptred Isle that calls itself a 'newspaper', when all it's good for is wrapping fish and chips.  "Daily Star" take a bow!  It's as if "The Sun" and "The National Enquirer" had an hideous mutant baby that subsequently fell into a tank of toxic waste and crawled out of it to join Britain First.  Not, as you may have grasped, my kind of paper.  Conrad strongly believes it contains lots of topless women but since I've never bought it and never intend to, this will have to remain supposition.  Art!

     Yes, with the COP26 conference under way, a brewing scandal in Parliament (again!) and imminent border war between Belarus and Poland, the Star has boldly gone with a shortage of Walker's crisps.

     Now, the bizarre thing is that photograph of Private Walker, the archetypal spiv from "Dad's Army".  The actor who played him, James Beck, sprinted off this mortal coil back in 1973, poor chap, which is nearly 50 years ago.  Whom amongst this rag's readers will know of or remember him?  Art!

The spivvy civvie

     Conrad confidently bets that an ancient editor or sub-editor is cackling with glee at how witty and clever they've been.  NO YOU'RE NOT!  NOR WILL YOU EVER BE YOU YELLOW PRESS HACKS*!

     Motley, we need to ensure that we lay in two or three year's worth of Walkers, as I'd hate to run out.  Pop down to the shops in the truck, won't you?  Ta!

What did you think we meant?

     Why on earth do I have the "Dambusters March" going through my head?

Thank You, Brain, Let's Do This Again

When I woke up this morning, the first thing on my mind was "Petit Trianon" because of course why wouldn't it be.  I'm sure you lot all wake up with French architectural structures flitting through your mind all the time, don't you?  Or - it's not just me, is it?

     ANYWAY Your Humble Scribe cannot simply leave an item like this one alone, so of course I looked it up and what do you know, it's very much a real thing.  Art!

     

     Pretty swanky gaff, hmmmm?  It was completed in 1768 in the neo-Classical style that had become increasingly popular, amid the gardens of the Palace of Versailles.  In 1774 it was gifted to Marie Antoinette by her hubbo, Louis the Sixteenth**.  The Marble Trianon was subsequently re-named the Grand Trianon, because it would be O! so embarrassing to confuse the two.

     The mystery, of course - obviously! - is why this popped up in my mind.  I'm not reading anything about France or the monarchy or palaces.  Well, it generates blog content so at least there's that.  Thank you Oscar and Steve (my subconscious and memory respectively).

Conrad Returns Breathing Plasma And Lava

Yeah, plasma, the fourth state of a material when it gets superheated, because plain old 'Fire and brimstone' just doesn't cut it, I'm afraid.  For Yes! we are back to ranting and tanting about Codewords again.  I have been very remiss in not doing these and yet STILL with only one completed out of a whole batch of newspapers THEY CONTINUE TO IRK ME!  Let us begin before the red mists descend too quickly -

"SUCRES": Conrad was baffled by this one and had to check against the completed key of all 26 letters, confirming twice that, yes, that's what it spelled.  I could only surmise that the compilers (several of whom I Remote Nuclear Detonated out of sheer visceral hatred) were now including French words in an attempt to kill me with rage-induced apoplexy.  The truth is stranger still: the 'sucre' used to be the legal currency in Ecuador up until 2000, named after Antonio Jose de Sucre.  Art!

Gimme some of that sweet sugar

     WHAT ARE WE ALL EXPERT NUMISMATISTS ABOUT OBSCURE EX-CURRENCIES NOW?

"LEVERET": No, not, as you may have been deceived into thinking, a baby lever.  It is a baby of sorts, being a hare less than one year old, and are exceedingly delicious in a pie cute.  Exceedingly cute, forget about the pie.  Cute.  Art!  Quickly now -

See?  Perfectly delicious.  CUTE!  I mean perfectly cute.

     Hands up how many of you got that one?  Hmmmm, five.  Try harder next time.

"ENDOMORPH": <long sweary rant edited by Mister Hand, who is only thinking of the children> Really?  Really!  <long exasperated sigh> I suppose a picture is in order.  Art!

Conrad himself, being a big lad, is an Extendomorph

     

     At least all this healthy rage has driven off The Dambusters March.  For the time being.  Doubtless it will come sneaking back like the sinister steam locomotives.
     I had better call a halt to this item, my blood is threatening to leap from my circulatory system, become sentient and hunt the Codeword compilers down like dogs***.

The Guards Armoured Division

NOTE CORRECT SPELLING.  None of that slapdash South Canadian slipshod dipdosh.  Your Humble Scribe was having a gander at the photographs present in the centre section and noticed a thing or two.  Art!

     These vehicles are the miserable Covenanter tank, identifiable by the quadruple-sectioned radiator on the hull's port side at the front.  It was so rubbish that it never saw action, instead being used solely for training, as is the case with the nascent Guards units here.  1,771 of these lemons were built, with numerous unsuccessful modifications to try and solve the main problem: breakdown due to the engine over-heating.  None of them worked.

     There's a rumour that a few were sent to the Sinisters, who, on un-crating these metal misfits, must have thought "But - surely -  we're allies, are we not?"  Commiserations are due to all who had the misfortune to train on these bally battle beasts.

Finally -

Definitely weather for stew today.  Fortunately for my stomach and I, cunning Conrad had thawed out a big tub of Burgoo, which went down a treat at lunch-time, with Edna hanging around hopefully.  No, pooch on the mooch, you can't have any, it's full of onion; also, it's my lunch and I'll fight you for it.

Edna, pretending to be human
(also close to where I put my tray down, the scamp)

     Right, I think we've nailed our name into the pages of history quite enough for one day.  Time to hump it back to the Perfume River singing "The Mickey Mouse Song" against a backdrop of burning Hue City.  Chin chin!

*  "The yellow press" - tabloid tat in the days before tabloid tat, named after their cheap, easily-yellowing woodpulp

**  Blimey, French monarchy not over-gifted with imagination!

***  If this inspires a film I want royalties