Thursday, October 29, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Oscar Mike Golf this is fun! Uniform can't stop once Uniform get started. Where's my India phone? I've got to India Mike my Baker Foxtrot Foxtrot right away!
He still doubts. Foolish boy.
Theopold Theopolis thrust three thousand thorny thistles through the thick of his thumb.
It must be important. Why would I remember it this long if it wasn't. But I don't find any references to it on the Web. Is it possible that this piece of our culture has avoided rampant webification? Or maybe it was just something my parents made up. Is it possible?
If I'd been playing Strauss waltzes on the car stereo instead of listening to Bob and Dave cut up about The Balloon Boy it would all have seemed like a dreamy dance.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Good thing I've got the physique of a Devil's Island escapee after seven years of degenerative muscle disease and the personality of your average Schizoid or I'd have nothing going for me.
What happens if you drink a quart of concrete?
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Does that make me a bad person?
Monday, August 3, 2009
Blogger blocked the posting.
Now, I appreciate anti-spam policies as much as the next recipient of endless spam come-ons. But when the policies start preventing you from even talking about the spam, well, that strikes me as taking it one iteration too far.
But what the heck, Blogger is a free service and for my money they're entitled to set up any rules and filters they want.
Come to think of it, this gives me an easy way to find out whether any particular email is spam. Just automatically forward all my mail to my blog. Any mail that doesn't show up was a spam message Google already knows about. Only ---- how many times can I post known spam messages before Blogger concludes I, myself, am a spammer? I know now that it is more than one. But is it less than two? I don't even dare to find out.
Friday, July 31, 2009
then .... Where are you?
Princeton, Louisiana, where the value that is T is pronounced twe'h or twe'eh, twe'h being the lesser and twe'eh being the greater. They both sound the same to my old Yankee ears, except twe'eh has a hint of nasality at the apostrophe which you don't hear in "twe'h." A nod and a wink, no doubt, to the missing N.
At least that's the way it sounds to me, and I am known for my twe'eh-twe'eh hearing. This morning my breakfast cost me "si' dollah an' twe'h cen." I still wouldn't know for sure how much that was, except I got thirteen dollars and eighty-eight cents back from the twe'eh I paid with.
Any culture where one number is a homonym of another number deserves its low standardized test scores.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
And I think that's sad.
It would be great fun to tell people, "I've got a 2-o'clock with Dr. John the Uvulectomologist." Or even uvulectomist. C'mon! Everybody's got one; the uvula-gone-wrong is a common theme in cartoons, literature and nightmares; why aren't there any specialists?
Friday, June 19, 2009
So if anyone tells you "You can't get there from here," you can angrily retort that Vanda disagrees, and Vanda is never wrong. So there.
Like this morning, the groundskeeper at the courthouse was sweating like to rain. His monochrome blue work shirt had become two tone. Light about the shoulders, dark sleeves and back. He was so wet with sweat that you could tell what brand of soap he used if you were anywhere downwind.
And one day in 2001 there were 7 men at the top of Guadalupe Peak in Texas, none of whom knew any of the others, and all of whom were sweating like to rain. BUT THERE WAS NO SMELL OF SOAP.
Then when the clock-radio turned on at 6AM with the news playing they were announcing that today many Americans were celebrating Emancipation.
I Think Not!
I Think Not Either!
Because I WAS looking at a LOC exhibit a day or two ago. And I DID talk with Fender yesterday on the phone. And it WAS in the news yesterday that Congress officially apologized for that slavery incident from the 1500s through the 1800s. I may even have known deep in my hind-brain that Juneteenth was the 19th of June, living as I do just a few miles from the border of Texas.
But it FELT like prescience until I remembered all those pre-dream triggers.
I guess I'll put my career as a psychic back on hold.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Fender Tucker, editor, proprietor and sole employee of Ramble House, the only publishing house with the grand carjonkles to publish every book Harry Stephen Keeler ever wrote, and a few he didn't.
You've probably seen Fender Tucker before on the front page of the Wall Street Journal (Yes, THAT Wall Street Journal) the expositorium of the capitalist elite, and now you can see him in the Keeler News (Yes, THAT Keeler News) the exploratorium of one of the oddest authors the world has ever known, bar none. A fact!
Congrats Fender! Next stop, Time Magazine's Man Of The Year.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
etc, adding an infinite number of "error re: error re:" pairs...
Friday, May 8, 2009
"Gabel-Risdon and Belle Isle Creamery companies of Detroit were merged January 1 to become the Borden Farms Products company of Michigan, C. Rowland Risdon, president of Gabel-Risdon, has announced. Both companies are owned by the Borden company of New York.
"Mr. Risdon will be president of the new concern. Adrian M. Heyboer president of the Belle Isle company, will be vice president and general manager; Norbert J. Roder, executive vice president; Herman Koelz, vice president; W. A. Foster, vice president, and C. E. Stowe, secretary-treasurer."
I reckon I don't have to tell anyone what the current status of the Borden company is.
"Quality is never an accident; it is always the result of high intention, sincere effort, intelligent direction and skillful execution; it represents the wise choice of many alternatives."I can forgive a little sloppy attribution, but to make a mistake transcribing the name of the author of this quotation is so ironic that I won't even bother to complete...
Here are the facts, people:
Around 1930 or 1931, Will A. Foster of the Gabel-Risdon Creamery Co., 16900 Grand River, Detroit, MI (long since gone) gave an address entitled "Advantages of a Business Depression to a Sales Organization." In that address, he said what is quoted above, but those words are the middle part only of his statement, which I here quote in full:
'Whatever you or the public may consider quality to be, this definition is always a safe guide to follow: "Quality is never an accident; it is always the result of high intention, sincere effort, intelligent direction and skillful execution; it represents the wise choice of many alternatives, the cumulative experience of many masters of craftsmanship; and it also marks the quest of an ideal after necessity has been satisfied and usefulness achieved." 'You can find an abstract of Will A. Foster's full address in the Proceedings of the Twenty-Fourth Annual Convention - International Association of Milk Dealers. There's a copy on file at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. And you can read a snippet at Google Books: Sales and Ad.... of Milk Dealers
An alumnus of the University of Wisconsin, by 1947-53 Will A. Foster was Vice-President of Advertising and Sales at the Borden Cheese Company. In 1958 he wrote "All Honor To The Cow--Facts and Fiction."
So the question becomes-- Who was Will A. Foster quoting, National Geographic? Or did he make up that definition himself?
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Maybe it was symbolic of something else. What does a man made out of molten lava symbolize? Birchbark canoes? Ballet? Bolshevism? Has to be something with a B, but what it could be, I just don't know.