You Think You're Alone?

Conrad Supposes This Depends On How You Define 'Alone'

I do remember a classic Ian Hunter (ex-Mott The Hoople frontman) album back in the prehistoric days of the Seventies, when Conrad was positively plugged into the music scene, titled "You're Never Alone With A Schizophrenic", which was a common conflation of Multiple-Personality Disorder with psychosis at the time.  You couldn't get away with a title like that today, because <long vitriolic screed expunged by Mister Hand>  did Alec Trench die in vain?  Art!

     Then there is that plangent line from "Total War" by The Comsat Angels:

"We live together, on our own"

     Have you ever seen a failed relationship defined so succinctly?

     ANYWAY I thought I'd include a few screenshots from "Trastornado", Xhuzer's Youtube channel that consists of his -phobia animations, and this one is an extended version of the "Evil Giant Santa Robot" original.  You know, the one where the robot suddenly turns and catches sight of a small child watching it pass.  Then you next see it racing on all fours across the lawn, with malice in mind.  Art!

Red for dead

     You expect to have it burst in through the windows and <explicit gore-fest redacted by Mister Hand>, but Ol' Xhuz is too canny for that.  Our hapless POV observer panics and looks out of the side window as the robot scrabbles in that direction, only to witness - 

Nothing

     Phew!  What a relief, it was all an hideous waking nightmare, with no presence in reality, because Little Miss POV (you can tell it's a young girl by her screaming, gentle reader) is all alone.  D'you think?  Art!

     Not quite alone, as there's a late-night pedestrian striding confidently home along the snowy pavement, which is what people who know call a 'sidewalk'.  All is obviously well with the world because HOLY DOG BUNS!

     Ol' Xhuz has watched far too many cheap horror films, because what does Little Miss POV do once she sees this hideous assault take place?  Why, she hurries to the French windows that give out onto the lawn, hearing the horrid bass tones of Evil Giant Robot Santa as he <yes, edited again, you ghouls says Mister Hand>.  Art!

Phew, gone again! Now she's alone, surely?

     Hmmmm but hist! what's that she catches in the corner of her eye?

     That's where it ends, so use your imagination as to how it finishes.
     ANYWAY I think we've thoroughly hammered the concept of 'Alone' into Attention Front And Central, which is where the real Intro begins.  Forsooth, I would like to refer back to "The Umbrella Academy" Season One Episode One, and Season Four Episode Last, both linked by song.  Art!

     The song is "I Think We're Alone Now", being the Tiffany "Two-Hit Wonder" version from the Eighties, a cover of the original from 1967, and Conrad simply cannot resist doing A Little Musical Critique at this point, because I enjoy being a sardonic bottomhole.

"Children, behave"

A sterling instruction to all youths everywhere
That's what they say when we're together

Let me guess - you bring out the worst in each other?
"And watch how you play"

Don't run with scissors.
They don't understand

A metal Frisbee is not a toy!

And so we're running just as fast as we can

Ah yes.  Children, capable of as much as four or five miles per hour.
Holding on to one another's hand

"Hand"?  Singular?  What did I tell you about metal Frisbees!
Trying to get away into the night

No, Art, entirely wrong trope.

"Hello, CPS?  I wish to report neglectful parents letting kids out after dark."
And then you put your arms around me

Whilst running at full speed?  This will end in tears.
As we tumble to the ground and then you say

"Hello, can I request an ambulance?"

I think we're alone now

Because, in "Into The Night", everyone is DEAD
There doesn't seem to be anyone around

See previous sentence
I think we're alone now

PLEASE CHECK FOR GIANT EVIL SANTA ROBOTS
The beating of our hearts is the only sound

Dog Buns!  What remarkable hearing you have!

     I rest my horrid humourless case Your Honour.  Although you can reserve judgement as there are still more lyrics to mock.

The Toxic Toys Of TERROR TRAUMA! Again

This time with a kinetic ballistic arsenal of spikey doom, also known as 'Lawn Darts'.   The concept was quite simple; you set up a target ring on the lawn - you might be ahead of me here - and hurl the huge plastic darts at it, trying to get inside the perimeter.  Art!

     Once again matey is playing fast and loose with dates, as these ranged melée weapons sorry, children's toys, too much wargaming  there, were around from the Seventies and into the mid-Eighties, which is when they were banned.

     Yes yes yes, I can hear you whinging about Big Government interfering with innocent kiddies playing, which is rather undercut by the statistics about Lawn Darts.  Art!

     Over 6,000 people, mostly young children, were treated for injuries caused by Lawn Darts, including fatalities.  Not laughing now, are you?  They were banned in 1986 and the iterations that abound now are very definitely child-proof and child-safe.  Art!

     "Toxic" in the title is poetic licence, the only way these things can be toxic is if you set fire to them and hungrily inhale the fumes.

Domestic Doings

Conrad would like to introduce you to one of the un-sung heroes of The Mansion, a trooper that's been going for 21 looooong years of service 24/7/52.  Art!

     The veteran is now showing distinct signs of wear, with the seals no longer flexible and the fridge section not being as fridgey as it ought to be, not to mention all those shelves set into the door are liable to crack all the way through and collapse.

     Our replacement is due Saturday, which means just three short days for Conrad to consume as much of the frozen stuff as possible to - ah - make it easier to store whilst the New Engine Of Chill get down to temperature.  Art!

     This, gentle reader, is Cornbread, a South Canadian staple I believe, which one eats alongside dishes that contain plenty of liquid for it to soak up.  Yes, it's a savoury bake, made with cornmeal, also known as 'Polenta' and I made this bread because I found a couple of packets of Polenta at the back of the cupboard.  No idea how long it's been there, probably five years or so.  I'll be eating my Sunday Stew with cornbread tomorrow, so if I never post on Thursday you now know why.

When Otters Attack

You'll know about it, as they have quite the nasty nip.  Say hello to Hana and Kotaro, two otters kept as pets in Japan, on the "Kotsumet" Youtube channel.  Their owner goes to some length to explain that otters are no longer legal to acquire as pets in Japan, and require a great deal of care and attention.  Art!

     They are appealing little rascals, lithe and always very active, and watching them eat at the table is hilarious.  Art!

     That last is Hana stealing Kotaro's food, the greedy glutton.

     Definitely makes possums' eating look almost restrained.  Darling Daughter, are you reading this*?

Finally -

I will postpone news of my latest First Unpleasantness historical documents until next day, because you need to have something to look forward to.

*  Probably not, she ain't a fan.

Blazing Paddles

No, This Is Not A Comic Intro At All

It is, actually, rather grim.  However  - O my favourite word! - because we have spoofed the spoof, it allows us to put up a photograph of same.  It's in the Terms and Conditions in case you were wondering.  Art!

Breaking the fourth, fifth and sixth walls

     Where were we?  O yes, about to start this tale in the year 1891, which is quite close to when 'Blazing Saddles' is set, if you need a tenuous connection between the two.  1891, you see, is the year that the paddle-steamer 'General Slocum' was laid down, later going into service as a passenger ship in New York.  She - the gender convention for ships to those confused - was constructed of white oak and yellow pine, as was the trend in those days.  Art!

     She was a side-paddle steamer, with two wheels of 26 paddles each side, capable of carrying up to 2,500 passengers, owned and run by the Knickerbocker Steamboat Company, an unlikely name yet true, honest.  What stored trouble for the ship was her Lamp Room, which, if we can prod Art awake with this unsheathed kukri -

The location, courtesy "Fascinating Horror"

     This room was where the ship's lamps were re-filled with oil, which substance had to be flammable to be able to burn and give off illumination.  The OHSA being a distant dream in 1904, the Lamp Room had suffered 13 years of spills and leaks, thus becoming a luminous liability, especially since crew members habitually smoked there.

     On the 15th of June 1904 the ship was carrying 32 crew and 1,328 passengers, the majority of whom were women and children, all going to attend a church picnic at a location further north-east along the East River shoreline.  At 10:00 a.m. the first signs of smoke were witnessed -

     Captain Van Schaick made a woefully bad decision upon seeing the fire now raging on the lower decks; instead of docking or beaching the ship anywhere close at hand, he steered her all the way upriver to North Brother Island.  Art!

     Sailing into the wind meant it fanned the flames down the whole length of the Slocum, and by the time she beached the whole vessel was well ablaze.  Up to 500 people had already died when part of the upper hull collapsed into the river and anyone who jumped from the starboard side into deep water when the ship beached also drowned.  Some observers put the blame on women's clothing of the day, being made of heavy wool that, once saturated, increased in weight so much it dragged people under.  Conrad rather suspects that the currents in the East River - an estuarine reach NOT a river - which are fierce and strong are just as much to blame.

     The eventual death toll came to 1,021 people, either burned or drowned, with many of the survivors owing their lives to the tugs and fireboats that came to help, and to the medical staff based at the quarantine hospital on North Brother.  Art!

     You can see how thoroughly the superstructure has been destroyed by fire, which is a risk that comes with a wooden ship.  

     This was one of the worst disasters ever to befall New York and was only overtaken on 9/11 with the collapse of the Twin Towers.  The catastrophically bad thing about the General Slocum burning up is that it was far worse than it ought to have been.  The life-jackets had been hanging out in the open for 13 years, causing their cork interiors to perish, and many had been brought up to the legal weight by adding iron bars, which are not known for an innate tendency to float.  The company that provided them got off scot-free, obviously, as did the city inspectors bribed to report that the lifebelts were sound.  Art!

Not an Iron Man, he hopes

     Van Schaick's dubious reasons for not beaching or docking sooner were insufficient to have him prosecuted for manslaughter, but he caught it in the neck for the life-jackets, and the rotten linen hosepipes that burst when used, not to mention the lifeboats that were wired down with the wires painted over.  He served 3.5 years of a ten-year sentence, whilst his employers, five of whom were indicted, got off scot-free again <mutters darkly>.

     Your Humble Scribe hadn't heard of this disaster until late last week and felt like sharing a bit of the dismal as he has plenty to go around.

A Slightly More Minor Disaster In The Making

Back to that winning Youtube vlog of DANGEROUS toys for boys (and a few girls) from the Sixties*, the decade before they took health and safety seriously.  Art!

     This is the Gilbert company's 'Atomic Energy Lab' which may have been inspired by Ike's 'Atoms For Peace' initiative, or, more likely, a way to turn a dollar.  It included a cloud-chamber, Geiger counter, electroscope, spinthariscope and, the real deal appeal, three samples of radioactive material.  Alpha, beta and gamma radiation sources, since you ask.

     I was being a tad cynical about the kit, as Mr. Gilbert was sincere about educating young boys - note the absence of any girly presence on the box art - in the ways of science.  What told against the kit was not safety concerns per se, but the cost, equivalent to £800 today.

     Sane scientific analysis of the AEL explained that radiation exposure was minimal and as harmless as the blurb promised - AS LONG AS THE RADIOACTIVE SAMPLES WERE LEFT SEALED.

     Would you trust a ham-fisted clumsy clot like a ten-year old Conrad with -

     No, don't even go there.

"The War Illustrated Edition 198 19th January 1945"

Okay, okay, I've been very verbose above and will try to corral my itching-yet-inspired fingers to be less loquacious.  Art!

     Once again they're blaming Von Rundstedt for the Ardennes offensive, which is unfair and probably hurt his feelings.

     ANYWAY the first picture shows South Canadian artillery after having to change locations, which gunners hate having to do.  First of all they have to locate themselves incredibly accurately on their maps, then range in their guns, work out distance to targets, liaise by radio with their Forward Observation Officers, stock ammunition well away from their guns, and finally dig the guns in, which is a real chore in hard-frozen ground.  Below that is a hastily established machine gun position, with no cover and hardly any concealment; next job will be to find sandbags.  At bottom a group of South Canadians cluster around a King Tiger, a 70-ton monster that was unrecoverable if it broke down or ran out of fuel thanks to it's sheer mass.  I don't see any signs of damage so it may simply have run out of diesel and been abandoned.

     I wrote a lot again, didn't I?

Cock-A-Doodle Done

David Cronenberg once gleefully claimed kudos for being nicknamed 'The King Of Veneral Horror' - "It's a small kingdom but it's mine!"

     In the same way, an hotel in the Phillipines has been awarded the signal honour from the "Guiness Book Of Records" of having the largest artefact in the world that resembles a chicken.  Art!

     The twist in the tail is that they only serve duck and pheasant.

Finally -

Better get back to that Phillipines zombie movie, "Outside" which has quite a bit of depth to it and is just as much about family dynamics as the walking undead.   I should add 'unhappy and dysfunctional family dynamics'.  Though how would any family cope with society breaking down under the Zombie Apocalypse?  Ah, the big philosophical questions that zed films raise, hmmm? Interesting to hear Tagalog interspersed with occasional English.  Art!

     Cherish those smiles because there are precious few in the film itself.

     Magadang gabi!

*  I checked and they were fibbing, this is from the Fifties.  The era when Atomic Power Was Your Friend**.

**  Like sharks.

The Creepy Weepy Hobby Hubby

Or Part Two Of An Avalanche

The biggest avalanche begins with the fall of a single pebble, which is the kind of portentous and pretentious quote you might expect from an author like Moliere or Maupassant.  Not William Shakeyshaft, he didn't live in the Highlands and was probably unfamiliar with the very concept of an 'avalanche', Avon not being subject to them very often.  Which is to say, not at all.  Art!

     Those tourists with guns are taking part in OPERATION AVALANCHE, which was the invasion of Fascist Italy at Salerno, and you have to put 'Operation' names in upper case, it's the law.

     You are no doubt wondering where the word 'Avalanche' itself comes from, but wonder no longer, gentle reader, for 'tis from the French (Hooray!) not Latin or Greek <hack spit>, being derived from 'Lavantse'.  This is described as dialect, probably from the very south of France where the Alps are located.  From this it transmuted into 'Valanche' and then the word we know and love.  Art!

     This is the second part of that Intro dealing with the hubbo whose wife gimmicked up a great big board of her neighbourhood with all the people present, and who was most likely to cheat with whom.  To ensure she was 'correct', she even set up her neighbours with planted lingerie.

     Hubbo kept his literal and mental distance from WW in the ensuing weeks, out of self-preservation.  In hindsight, that most precise of all vision types, hubbo ought to have sought counselling for Weirdo Wifey at this point, because shortly after she informed him, and he accepted as truth, that she was getting online therapy for her behaviour, she declared she was preggers.

     Hooray! - except wait a minute.  Art!

     We'll come back to that.  WW said she'd been to the clinic for an ultrasound scan, and produced a picture for hubbo.  She seeeeeemed to have chosen a date for this scan when he was unable to attend, and 'the clinic' didn't have any alternative dates.  If your olofactory sensors are tingling at this piscine proviso, you are well up on things. 

     That calendar?  Present because hubbo was tracking dates and WW had undergone either an immaculate conception or she was cheating, as Baby Date was when he'd been keeping well clear of WW.  Not only that, this event was months in the past and yet she maintained her trim pre-gravid figure.  Art!

     When he reverse-image searched the ultrasound, it came from a generic Facebook page.  Cue massive deflation in expectant father as he realised it was all a lie.  Further, when he called the clinic (able to do so thanks to prior registration) they had NO TRACE of his wife ever visiting.

     He confronted WW, who broke down in tears, claiming that he was making it all up because of her finagling with the Conspiracy Chart Of Cheatingness, and she was pregnant but didn't know who the father was -

     Then she locked herself in the bathroom and threated to unalive herself, as they have to say on Youtube narratives.  Hubbo promptly called the police, who broke down the door and found her alive but completely off her head.  Off she went to a 'mental health facility', which isn't probably how you expected this to finish.  Sorry, not exactly a happy ending; WW nonetheless getting professional medical help.  It is entirely possible that the psychosis was always hovering in the background, only to be triggered by the stress of WW getting exposed as a conspiranoid loonwaffle over her Colossal Conspiracy Chart Of Controived Cheatingness.  From Post-Its and thread to off her head, if I may impolitely summarise.  Art!

The first pebble

DANGER WILL ROBINSON!

Will can be a stand-in for all children of the Sixties and those who dwelt in South Canada in particular, for what has Conrad come across but another Youtube vlog that details the kit that was sold to minors, without due diligence being done.  Art!

     With this particular 'toy' you were able to make rubber versions of spiders, ants, frogs, centipedes and so on, all the nasty things that lurk in the garden or under the floorboards.  Art!

     There were two reasons why this bit of kit was DANGEROUS: Firstly, the oven used to 'bake' the rubber moulds got extremely hot - 150º C - leading to burns and scalds being inflicted on their users, as kids are not noted for being especially safety-conscious; secondly, the fumes given off by the rubber as it cooked were toxic.  Yes, it got discontinued.  Art!

Hours of fun! and medical treatment

"The War Illustrated Edition 198 19th January 1945"

I cheated here and yes, they finally mention the Battle of the Bulge, which by this time (well into January thanks to the delays in printing) had been decisively halted and brought to nought.  Let us have the cover picture, Art!

     For once they feature the Far East on the front cover, which must have gone down with the Fourteenth Army in Burma, whose exploits always took second place to the European theatre.  Here we see two of the senior Allied commanders walking past one of the guardians erected outside Burmese temples, known as a 'Chin Tae', which is where the Chindits got their name from.  Art!

     Just thought I'd throw this map in for good measure.  Note in the blurb that it's called "Rundstedt's offensive", which angered Feld-Marschal Von Runstedt a great deal, and rightly so.  He had very little to do with the planning of the offensive, it was handed to him 'oven-ready' by Hitler and told to get on with it and to win the war quick smart, the end.  Not quite, as the map shows.  What it does show it the situation on the ground as of 5th January, with Bastogne freed from siege and the entire Bulge being slimmed-down.

Further To That

Conrad distinctly remembers reading in "A Full Life" the autobiography of General Brian Horrocks, of the problems involved in crossing the Rhine and invading the land of the Teutons in 1945.  Partly thanks to terrain, partly thanks to weather, and partly thanks to determined Teuton defenders.  I also recall James Holland, on the "We Have Ways" podcast, also mentioning that the battles fought in 1945 as Germany was invaded were quite the bloodiest of the war in Western Europe.  "All over bar the shouting" being completely wrong.  Art!

     Ol' Pete's working thesis is that both the above viewpoints are correct, and that the last 100 days of the Second Unpleasantness in Western Europe were anything but a pushover.  500 pages to go and I'll let you know*.

Bring On The Fluffy Bunnies And Rainbows

To relieve the unremittingly grim tone of BOOJUM! today.  I do apologise, it must be the Monday blues.  As I type this our work I.T. is completely up the spout which is making the morning drag, to say nothing of the grey overcast skies.  At least it's not raining.  Nor snowing.  Yet.  It's cold enough for that.   Art!

     Well, it made me smile.

     Don't whinge about this one, you've got bunnies and rainbows.

You What?

TERROR STALKS THE STREETS!  Art?

     Wellllllll maybe not 'terror', quite, more like 'embittered nutjob with anger management issues and too much free time'.  This is the eighth time since 2021 that the Tonbridge crossing has been vandalised by person or persons unknown, for reasons also unknown.  What is known is that the cost totals £28,000.

     Sorry this isn't more dramatic, there are no car chases or petrol bombs or gunfights, but then this is the way we roll here in This Sceptred Isle.

Finally -

Slowly grinding forward to three calendar dates: Payday (this Thursday), Drinking Permitted Day (Saturday 30th) and something to do about X's en masse, or miss, or missletoe.

    Chin chin!

*  Threat?  Promise?  Only you can tell!

Bloody Buttons

Please Note That We Do Not Use An Exclamation Mark Here

So it's not swearing, merely a noun.  Conrad admits that one does not often equate the things that keep your shirt closed with gore and matters sanguinary, but if you follow this Intro we shall get there in the end.

     First off - Art!

     No, it's not the real thing.  This is a production still from "The Longest Day", and it's here because of the iconic image of the actor playing paratrooper John Steele, who got hung up on the church tower of St. Mere Iglese.  Art!

     The actor's name, is of course - obviously! - Red Buttons.  Yes I am being truthful.  No, his parents were not cruel enough to christen him thus, he acquired the nickname whilst being a bellboy wearing a uniform with big blue buttons.

     Only joking!  No, they were red buttons.  Art!

     

The redoubtable James Caan

     A phrase that Sonny Corleone used came back to me whilst having my Thinking Time, walking Edna The Entitled Little Woman.  This is after the unsuccessful attempt on Don Corleone's life, and Sonny gloats about having " - a hundred buttonmen on the streets, twenty-four hours a day".  In this case these 'buttonmen' are low-level Mafia minions, and if they came across Salozzo, Why! there would be blood, lots of it, and all his.  Art!

     One of "2000AD"'s top strips, this is Harry Exton, a 'Button Man', with Ranson's outstanding artwork.  Harry works for an unseen patron as a warrior-for-hire, pitted against other Button-men in a very, very high-stakes gambling game.  You don't necessarily have to kill your opponent(s) but if you win and they remain alive, you get to sever one of their fingers as a mark of their failure.  Harry is very good as a Button Man, which brings it's own problems.  Available in a trade paperback.  Art!

     Conrad is, once again, horrified to learn that this film is from 1994, because it seems I watched it only a few years ago.  It is set in County Cork in Eire, in the late Sixties, which means that it's a long way from any swinging, which might be done in Cork city or Dublin but definitely not in Ballydowse or Carrickdowse.  These villages maintain a decades-long feud where the boys of one village attempt to upstage those of the other village, one measure of which is cutting off the buttons from the defeated party's trousers.  Such humiliation!  Art!

     Surprise surprise, there was a French version made in 1962.  Once again, the plot centres around two rival gangs of boys who compete to see which is the top dog, and again trouser buttons are taken as trophies.  This one seems darker in tone than the Irish one as it is said to end in violence.

     Nor is that all.  There is yet another French version, made in 2011, and you may be wondering why the intense French interest in this subject matter?  O I thought you'd never ask!  Art?

     On Page 201 of this volume it relates the story of Louis Pergoud, a pre-war French novelist who won the Prix Goncourt for his debut novel.  "La Guerre De Boutons" is his most famous work.  Art!

     You can tell by his date of death in the text that he didn't survive the First Unpleasantness, because he was badly wounded making an attack on Hill 233, picked up alive after the battle by the Teutons and, the killing joke, died under a French artillery bombardment in a Teuton field hospital on 8th April.  The reason he's mentioned in this book is because the South Canadian 4th division was advancing here in September of 1918.  I think that's enough of buttons for the time being, being as bloodied as they are.

     

Our Journey With Bernie

I did my due diligence with this one, and could only find the picture itself, absent the usual blurb from Bernie on the reverse, which is only a limited loss as he tends to ramble on about how he did it, with a wash and inks and Boston board et al, instead of what he's portraying.  Number #39 "Free Fall".  Art?

     Ah, one of those sci-fi imaginings where they still use edged weapons despite having particle beam guns that can hit a fly in the eye a thousand kilometres away.  "But the romance!" quibbled Berni.  Be quiet, Bernie.

"BRZRKR" By Keanu Reeves, Amongst Others

It's a comic book, in case you've been sharing living space with Luther Hargreeves on the Moon for the past 4 years.  Conrad got the final 3rd trade paperback yesteryon and finished it the same day.  It has the trademark OTT violence, and a whole lot of mysticism, and a surreal ending.  Art!

One is Keanu, the other is Unute.  I don't need to tell you which, do I?

     By all accounts it's been a critical and commercial success, to such an extent that Netflix was talking about turning it into both a film and animé series.  Don't expect anything real quick, the comics only ended in October 2023, and if the film does get made, who do you think will be starring in it?

     NO!  Not Danny De Vito.  Keanu Reeves.  If they were looking to cast Mayor John Amalfi from James Blish's 'Cities In Flight' then Ol' Dan would be an excellent choice.  But not Unute.  Sorry, Dan.

     ANYWAY if Keanu will be starring then they'll have to engage him whilst he's not starring in any other films.  I wonder - will Chad Stahelski get to helm this one?  Art!

Conrad Would Be Safe, Then

Forgetting for a moment that Your Humble Scribe is 63 years old with bad eyesight, benumbed feet and overworked kidneys and liver (3 pots of tea per day will do that), one reason he'd not get drafted for what we used to call "National Service" in the UK is his weight.  Art!

     Matey still got a one-year suspended sentence, so if he commits any other crimes it's off to pokey.  I wonder - if you consumed a gallon of stew before your health check would that throw the scales off? before you were severely ill, gobbing eight pints of semi-liquid food cannot be good for you.

Can Conrad be ANGRY Again?

I can?  Thank you so much!  This is where another button of blood is invoked, as I vapourise the treacherous ganterpies who befoul my Codewords with their foreign words or entries from the current literature of sixteen thirty-eight, thanks to the Remote Nuclear Detonator.

CHI: Ah now, this is a tricky one, because there's no guide about how to pronounce it.  You are doubtless thinking about the Chinese word CHI, which is pronounced "Chee", and means a rather woolly kind of bodily energy, as in TAI CHI.  Conrad, on the other hand, is thinking along the lines of the Greek CHI, which is pronounced "Khi", and is the 22nd letter of the Greek alphabet.  Art!

Compromising with Chi Chi

JAPONICA: Conrad has a vague understanding of this being a plant.  Possibly a flowering one.  Maybe even from Japan.  Or not.  Let me consult my Collins.

     Ah.  "A.k.a. the 'Japanese Quince', a Japanese shrub grown for it's red flowers and yellow fruit."  Art?

WHAT ARE WE ALL BOTANISTS NOW!

COZENAGE:  I have no idea.  Let me look it up whilst I quietly seethe.  No, make that 'let me look it up whilst I SEETHE LOUDLY".

     It's the noun derived from the veb COZEN meaning 'to trick or cheat'.  Well, how wincingly citricly ironic, because that's just what it did.  Art!

The RMD will be getting a workout later on.

Finally -

Twitter user "Warrensbuffet" posted earlier this afternoon that the 'Forex' markets open to publish data at about 22:00 this evening, a Tweet to which he added a bucket of popcorn emoji.  I knew exactly what he was thinking, the rascal, and it's to do with a certain currency that's value has been heading for the sewers for this past week.  I will update you on this tomorrow if it pans out.  

     Tee hee!