Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest 2021
The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest has announced the results of the 2021 competition. Every year, B-LFC solicits opening sentences for bad novels. The “winners” of this competition receive heartfelt condolences from all concerned. Chamblee54 uses B-LFC as an excuse for text to go between pictures every year, like this. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. Part two is also available.
As a “value added service,” chamblee54 compiles a list of noteworthy author names and locations. This years notables: Derek Lepoutre, Pickering, Ontario, Canada, Kyla Guimaraes, New York, NY, Paul Scheeler, Buffalo, NY, Hwei Oh, Sydney, Australia, Steve Lauducci, Bethlehem, PA, Dave Hurt, Harrogate, England, Janie Doohan, Walla Walla, WA, Stu Duval, Auckland, New Zealand, Roni Markowitz, Brooklyn, NY, Lisa Hanks, Euless, TX, Reinhold Friebertshauser, Chagrin Falls, OH, Fr. Jerry Kopacek, Elma, IA, David Laatsch, Baton Rouge, LA, Peter Skrzypczak, Burlington, Ontario, Canada, James Romag, Colorado Springs, CO, Angelica Zhu, Alameda, CA
A lecherous sunrise flaunted itself over a flatulent sea, ripping the obsidian bodice of night asunder with its rapacious fingers of gold, thus exposing her dusky bosom to the dawn’s ogling stare. Stu Duval, Auckland, New Zealand
Little Timmy suffered from Claustraphobia: the fear of being trapped in a closet with Santa Claus. Donald J. Hicks, Jr., Manchester, NJ
Even though Bambi the deer grew up to become a sleek and powerful 10-point buck, the other deer frequently chided him about his name, which was a perfectly fine name for a cocktail waitress but not so much for a male deer. Greg Homer, San Vito, Costa Rica
“Ding dong, the witch is dead, ding dong, the witch is dead, ding . . . “ before I could tenor the next “dong” the black cat that had been sitting on the unmarked grave fixated me with a strange look and a sudden burst of sparkles came over me and changed me from a villager to a green frog, and now I spend my days sitting on the edge of the duck pond in which we drowned the witch, all alone and afraid a Frenchman would come along and fancy my little legs.
Francis Nys, Mechelen, Flanders, Belgium
The Big Joe Palooka murder wasn’t just another killing, another homicide, another manslaughter, another slaying, another hit, another whack, another rubbing-out, another bumping-off, another assassination, another liquidation, another extermination, another execution—but it was nothing new for Johnny Synonymous, Obsessive-Compulsive Crime Fighter.
Paul Scheeler, Buffalo, NY
The cat purred like a Geiger counter beside the fireplace which crackled like gunfire (which reminded Detective Greenwich of his service in The Ukraine and The Latvia), this feline being the only witness to the murder of the wet nurse and, unless purring counts, he wasn’t talking.
Michael McDermott, Dublin, Ireland
Detective Hill raised his service pistol and pointed it at the suspect, a master of disguise hiding in plain sight as a living statue in central park: “Freeze!” he called out.
Justin C. McCarthy, Cranston, RI
It was a dark and stormy night, as disorienting and miasmic as the inside of the bag of an industrial strength vacuum cleaner with a shredded HEPA filter being dragged over a steel foundry floor. Jeff Laurence, Carmel, CA
Dark and stormy, the night screamed like a ravished virgin …. the dark, stormy night ranted madly in a barometric tantrum …. it was an ebonic nocturnal tempest …. the stygian typhoon of eventide …. prosopopeic fuliginous Nyx, enceinte as it were with lachrymal lamia farouche as Hecate, disbosomed upon her terrene demiorb an empyreal borasque. Jack Holiday, Burbank, CA
Our story begins in the cozy cottage of Bynnoldh-Dyr, son of Asgwitch-Torgwyr, in the idyllic elven village of Myrthffolwrd, but our book actually begins some two hundred pages earlier, in which you are pummeled by irrelevant history and unpronounceable names, because my publisher is paying me by the word. Neil B Harrison, Springville, UT
To the rest of the world, General Sir Antony Alexander Agamemnon Hardcastle may have been the Scourge of the French, the Hero of the Borghorst Pass, and the fourth-worst enemy of the late Napoleon Bonaparte, but to the waitress at the Badger’s Head Tavern and Grill, he was just another customer — and if he called her “cutie pie” one more time, she was going to do to him with one fork what Boney couldn’t with a thousand men. Scott Lyons, Stirling, Scotland
She had a deep, throaty laugh, like the sound a dog makes right before it throws up.
Janie Doohan, Walla Walla, WA
His voice rang out sweet and loud, like maple syrup that had achieved speech and wished to push its deeply held political beliefs on others. Paul Kollas, Orlando, FL
One History Of Religion
I was a southern baptist all my life. Arguably, I became a baptist when my mother converted in 1938, but really didn’t get with the program until I was born in 1954. The story is that Daddy called the choir director at six in the morning to sign me up.
First Baptist in Atlanta was a big church on Peachtree street, about a mile north of downtown. (A few years ago, they sold the land to a developer, and moved to the suburbs. I was working a block away when they tore down the building, and got some chips of brick as a souvenir.) I sang in the “cherub” choir. This was quite an experience when we performed in front of a full house. I have good memories of Sunday school, vacation bible school, and the choir program.
One thing I did not like, even at that young age, was the preacher. He was a greasy haired man who shouted a lot, and had a mean streak. Years later, I heard persistent rumors that he was gay. (I should note that this is not Charles Stanley. It is the man who preceded him.) One Sunday, we were watching him preach, and he shouted, “this is the word of G-d”. He then waved a Bible in the air, and slammed it into the pulpit. I thought, if that is the word of G-d, maybe he shouldn’t slam it down like that.
In 1962, mom and dad decided to move to a church closer to home. I liked Briarcliff Baptist. About this time, I first heard about being “saved from sin”, and thought it was a pretty cool idea. I also was in the cub scouts, and since their meetings were the same day as choir practice, I quit the choir. I attended church regularly the next few years, but never did join the church, and get baptized. The custom of pressuring children to make a “commitment of faith”, and get baptized, reflects poorly on Jesus. There are some other family issues that came up about this time. They are too personal to get into here, but they affected my attitude towards the church.
After a while, I was 17 years old, and working in a restaurant that was open until 1am on Saturday night. I decided one Sunday that I didn’t want to get up for church. I have only been back to that building once in the intervening 50 years. This is a repost, with pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Chuck Palahniuk And Joe Rogan
Joe Rogan Experience #1158 – Chuck Palahniuk hit the internet recently. Mr. Palahniuk (Paula Neek) writes trendy books, most famously Fight Club. Mr. Palahniuk is pleased to hear people say “the first rule of…” It makes him think he has had an impact on the culture. This is a repost.
Inevitably, authors talk about their writing habits. Mr. Palahniuk fills up notebooks in longhand. When he gets bored, or is killing time in an airport, he begins to type these notes. To quote Truman Capote, this is not writing, this is typing.
One of the themes of this conversation is what offends people. The author of Guts knows about giving offense. Often, people are not especially offended themselves, but are offended on behalf of other people. Mr. Palahniuk uses the phrase “white knighting,” to describe this protective umbrage taking. Per urban dictionary: “White knighting Defending someone who does not wish to be defended.” White knighting is woke whitesplaining.
Two especially tasteful stories were told. If you are inclined to get offended, for any reason at all, you probably should skip over these two stories. The pictures, by The Library of Congress, are safe. Both of these stories are by well known authors, who are named in the interview. If you want to know who they are, you will have to listen to the interview. Once again, these stories are hard core, and you should take great caution in reading them. If you like these stories, there are more in the podcast.
Upon further consideration, it has been determined that one of the stories is too much. If you want to hear it, you can listen to the podcast. … The break room at a hospital was next to the room where autopsies were performed, with a glass window looking in. A twelve year old boy was on the slab, having died in a bicycle accident. The Pathologist cut away the boy’s face, and peeled it back, so that it hung over his jaw. This exposed a dark red layer of muscle, covering the face. The man looked at this, and said “that’s the color I want to paint my den.”
Mr. Palahniuk has had a lively career. A crooked business manager stole a great deal of money from him. Since he is no longer filthy rich, but merely filthy minded, he continues to produce books. Fight Club 3 is in the pipeline. It will probably be accompanied by a promotional tour, with more grossout stories for the clamoring public.
Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. Paul Carter, 1903-1938, photographer Date Created/Published: Sept. 1936 Untitled photo, possibly related to: Negro workers on Newport News Homesteads, Virginia Untitled photo, possibly related to: Negroes on a picnic, Newport News, Virginia Lunch hour at Newport News Homesteads, Virginia
Coat Of Many Colors
PG saw a story, and thought about the song, “Coat of many colors”. The b side was by Porter Wagoner, “Coat of many sequins”. COMC is about a woman who is too poor to buy her little girl a coat at the store, so she makes a quilt. The other kids make fun of her, but little Dolly knows that the coat is really made of love.
The song talks about a story in the Bible. PG had heard about the story, but didn’t remember the details. He must have been daydreaming in Sunday School when that story was taught. With the help of google, Genesis 37 appears, as if by magic. Pass the popcorn.
2 These are the generations of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen years old, was feeding the flock with his brethren; and the lad was with the sons of Bilhah, and with the sons of Zilpah, his father’s wives: and Joseph brought unto his father their evil report.
3 Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age:
and he made him a coat of many colours.
4 And when his brethren saw that their father loved him more than all his brethren, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him.
Ok, hold on for a minute. Israel had at least two wives. The Biblical definition of marriage must be between a man and two women.
The story gets a bit weird here. Joseph has this dream, where he becomes the boss hog brother. The other brothers decide something needs to be done, that Joseph needs to die. Reuben tries to help Joseph, and has a plan to save him. Joseph is stripped of the coat of many colors, and placed in a pit, with no water. Before Reuben can sneak Joseph out of the pit, a camel caravan comes by. Twenty pieces of silver change hands, and Joseph is sold into slavery. The brothers decide to pull a cover up, and make it look like Joseph was dead. Reuben made another sandwich.
31 And they took Joseph’s coat, and killed a kid of the goats, and dipped the coat in the blood;
32 And they sent the coat of many colours, and they brought it to their father; and said,
This have we found: know now whether it be thy son’s coat or no.
33 And he knew it, and said, It is my son’s coat; an evil beast hath devoured him;
Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces.
34 And Jacob rent his clothes, and put sackcloth upon his loins, and mourned for his son many days.
35 And all his sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him; but he refused to be comforted;
and he said, For I will go down into the grave unto my son mourning. Thus his father wept for him.
This feature was originally posted in 2012. The pictures are from The Library of Congress.
The Worst Jokes Of Scotland
This repost is borrowed from Twenty Two Words, who borrowed it from someone else. The pictures are from The Library of Congress. Every year, the Edinburgh Fringe Festival has a contest for the best joke. The 2011 winner was Nick Helm, aka “The Human Car Crash of Light Entertainment”.
1. Nick Helm – “The banking program needed a password eight characters long. I picked Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.”
2. Tim Vine – “Crime in multi-storey car parks. That is wrong on so many different levels.”
3. Hannibal Buress – “People say ‘I’m taking it one day at a time.’ You know what? So is everybody. That’s how time works.”
4. Tim Key – “Drive Thru McDonalds was more expensive than I thought … once you’ve hired the car”
5. Matt Kirshen – “I was playing chess with my friend and he said, ‘Let’s make this interesting’. So we stopped playing chess.”
6. Sarah Millican – “My mother told me, you don’t have to put anything in your mouth you don’t want to. Then she made me eat broccoli, which felt like double standards.”
7. Alan Sharp – “I was in a band which we called The Prevention, because we hoped people would say we were better than The Cure.”
8. Mark Watson – “Someone asked me recently – what would I rather give up, food or sex. Neither! I’m not falling for that one again, wife.”
9. Andrew Lawrence – “I admire these phone hackers. I think they have a lot of patience. I can’t even be bothered to check my OWN voicemails.”
10. DeAnne Smith – “My friend died doing what he loved … Heroin.”
PG did a bit of value added research, and found an article in The Telegraph about the joke contest. This article has the NINE WORST JOKES from the 2011 festival.
1. Tim Vine – “Uncle Ben has died. No more Mr Rice Guy.”
2. V. McTavish – “The Lockerbie bomber put Lockerbie on the map, well he nearly took it off it too.”
3. Josh Howie – I’ve got nothing against the Chinese. Don’t get me Wong.
4. Card Ninja – “I went to see this show and the guy said ‘Hey kid do you like magic?’ And I said ‘Yeah!’ So he asked if I wanted to see a trick and I said ‘Yeah!’ So he said ‘think of a number, times it by 2 and if it’s odd …’ Oh no, he’s a MATHmagician! “
5. Tom Webb – “Due to the economy, profiteroles will now be called deficiteroles.”
6. Nathan Caton – “Postcode wars? That sounds like a really shit BBC game show.”
7. Andrew Bird – “My wife’s eating for two. She’s not pregnant, just schizophrenic.”
8. Mark Olver – “I was like a dyslexic having my back teeth removed … losing my morals.”
9. Andrew O’Neill – “Singing a song for the colour blind today: “And I think to myself … why did I become a bomb disposal expert?”
The Playboy Interview Bob Dylan
The Notorious 1966 Playboy Interview -Bob Dylan turned up in the youtubeque the other day. The speaker bought a copy of the magazine online … “I’m one of the few people who can say I bought it for the article and be honest.” A quick google search turned up PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: BOB DYLAN February 1966. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
The winter of 1966 was a different time. Mr. Dylan released Bringing It All Back Home and Highway 61 Revisited in 1965, with Blonde on Blonde to follow in 1966. He shot a screen test for Andy Warhol, and met Edie Sedgwick. Winter of 1966 saw America one year into the escalation of the War in Vietnam. The times they were a changin’.
The interview is not a linear Q&A. The entertainer takes a question from Nat Hentoff, and then says whatever feels right to say. This video, Bob Dylan San Francisco Press Conference 1965, is more of the same. Maybe the best way to approach this is with a few quotes.
PLAYBOY: In recent years, according to some critics, jazz has lost much of its appeal to the younger generation. Do you agree? DYLAN: I don’t think jazz has ever appealed to the younger generation. Anyway, I don’t really know who this younger generation is. I don’t think they could get into a jazz club anyway. But jazz is hard to follow; I mean you actually have to like jazz to follow it: and my motto is, never follow anything. I don’t know what the motto of the younger generation is, but I would think they’d have to follow their parents. I mean, what would some parent say to his kid if the kid came home with a glass eye, a Charlie Mingus record and a pocketful of feathers? He’d say, “Who are you following?” And the poor kid would have to stand there with water in his shoes, a bow tie on his ear and soot pouring out of his belly button and say, “Jazz, Father, I’ve been following jazz.” And his father would probably say, “Get a broom and clean up all that soot before you go to sleep.” Then the kid’s mother would tell her friends, “Oh yes, our little Donald, he’s part of the younger generation, you know.” … As far as folk and folk-rock are concerned, it doesn’t matter what kind of nasty names people invent for the music. It could be called arsenic music, or perhaps Phaedra music. I don’t think that such a word as folk-rock has anything to do with it. And folk music is a word I can’t use. Folk music is a bunch of fat people. I have to think of all this as traditional music. Traditional music is based on hexagrams. It comes about from legends, Bibles, plagues, and it revolves around vegetables and death. There’s nobody that’s going to kill traditional music. All these songs about roses growing out of people’s brains and lovers who are really geese and swans that turn into angels – they’re not going to die. It’s all those paranoid people who think that someone’s going to come and take away their toilet paper – they’re going to die. …
PLAYBOY: Mistake or not, what made you decide to go the rock-‘n’-roll route? DYLAN: Carelessness. I lost my one true love. I started drinking. The first thing I know, I’m in a card game. Then I’m in a crap game. I wake up in a pool hall. Then this big Mexican lady drags me off the table, takes me to Philadelphia. She leaves me alone in her house, and it burns down. I wind up in Phoenix. I get a job as a Chinaman. I start working in a dime store, and move in with a 13-year-old girl. Then this big Mexican lady from Philadelphia comes in and burns the house down. I go down to Dallas. I get a job as a “before” in a Charles Atlas “before and after” ad. I move in with a delivery boy who can cook fantastic chili and hot dogs. Then this 13-year-old girl from Phoenix comes and burns the house down. The delivery boy – he ain’t so mild: He gives her the knife, and the next thing I know I’m in Omaha. It’s so cold there, by this time I’m robbing my own bicycles and frying my own fish. I stumble onto some luck and get a job as a carburetor out at the hot-rod races every Thursday night. I move in with a high school teacher who also does a little plumbing on the side, who ain’t much to look at, but who’s built a special kind of refrigerator that can turn newspaper into lettuce. Everything’s going good until that delivery boy shows up … he burned the house down, and I hit the road. The first guy that picked me up asked me if I wanted to be a star. What could I say? PLAYBOY: And that’s how you became a rock-‘n’-roll singer? DYLAN: No, that’s how I got tuberculosis. …
PLAYBOY: How do you feel about those who have risked imprisonment by burning their draft cards to signify their opposition to U. S. involvement in Vietnam, and by refusing – as your friend Joan Baez has done – to pay their income taxes as a protest against the Covernment’s expenditures on war and weaponry? Do you think they’re wasting their time? DYLAN: Burning draft cards isn’t going to end any war. It’s not even going to save any lives. If someone can &el more honest with himself by burning his draft card, then that’s great; but if he’s just going to feel more important because he does it, then that’s a drag. I really don’t know too much about Joan Baez and her income-tax problems. The only thing I can tell you about Joan Baez is that she’s not Belle Starr. …
PLAYBOY: Writing about “beard-wearing draft-card burners and pacifist income-tax evaders,” one columnist called such protesters “no less outside society than the junkie, the homosexual or the mass murderer.” What’s your reaction? DYLAN: I don’t believe in those terms. They’re too hysterical. They don’t describe anything. Most people think that homosexual, gay, queer, queen, faggot are all the same words. Everybody thinks that a junkie is a dope freak. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t consider myself outside of anything. I just consider myself not around. …
PLAYBOY: Paranoia is said to be one of the mental states sometimes induced by such hallucinogenic drugs as peyote and LSD. Considering the risks involved, do you think that experimentation with such drugs should be part of the growing up experience for a young person? DYLAN: I wouldn’t advise anybody to use drugs – certainly not the hard drugs; drugs are medicine. But opium and hash and pot – now, those things aren’t drugs; they just bend your mind a little. I think everybody’s mind should be bent once in a while. Not by LSD, though. LSD is medicine – a different kind of medicine. It makes you aware of the universe, so to speak; you realize how foolish objects are. But LSD is not for groovy people; it’s for mad, hateful people who want revenge. It’s for people who usually have heart attacks. They ought to use it at the Geneva Convention. …
PLAYBOY: Did you ever have the standard boyhood dream of growing up to be President? DYLAN: No. When I was a boy, Harry Truman was President; who’d want to be Harry Truman?
Never Doubt
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” This chestnut appeared in an email, promoting an event. PG heard a podcast last year, about another Margaret Mead story. Readers of this blog know where this is going.
@anthroreviewed “Did Margaret Mead really say that thing about broken femurs and civilization that is (once again) making the rounds online? Also, are healed femurs a marker of civilization? No. And no. As explore in the second half of this episode… “ A blog post, That Margaret Mead quote, goes into more detail about both stories.
“It’s interesting the quotes that are attributed to Margaret Mead – another is “Never doubt that a small group of people can change the world – indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” … Both are things she could have said, given her personality, but neither is fully attributed – the first instance of the story above is in Dr. Ira Byock’s 2012 book on palliative care, and the above quote only attributed to her, four years after her death, by the author of a fairly hippie-ish book on paths to world peace.”
“This quote (about the femur) has been going around Facebook since mid-March, probably encouraged by this Twitter thread, this FB post, and this article in Forbes, none of which are by archaeologists/anthropologists.”
When the bs detector started dinging, results are just a few clicks away. Highlight the suspicious quote. Right click, choose “Search Google for …,” and wait 0.51 seconds. When one of the results is a story at Quote Investigator®, you have a winner.
When people get caught peddling bogus quotes, they often say that even if the attribution is false, the words are true. What about the featured quote today? It sounds good, and is great for promoting attendance at an event. But is it the truth?
Look at the 9/11 attacks. They did change the world. While it is true that nineteen men pulled off the caper, they had a lot of help. Somebody financed the operation. Other people built the airliners, and the airports where they took off. Somebody dug an oil well, pumped the crude oil, shipped the crude oil to a refinery, and produced the explosive jet fuel that propelled the attacks. In fact, it was the profits from pumping that oil that financed the attacks. “A small group of thoughtful, committed citizens” flew a plane, that someone else built, into the World Trade Center. They were not “the only thing that ever has.” Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
Do You Feel Safer?
No, there is no evidence that the F.B.I. organized the Jan. 6 Capitol riot. Of course, the NYT is going to say that. Others disagree, and point to a plot to kidnap the Governor of Michigan. If the FBI was involved in planning the January 6 incident, it will not be the first time. Here is a story from 2012 about the role federal agents played in the arrest of four elderly men in North Georgia.
A recent episode of Radiolab, Grumpy Old Terrorists, spotlights Georgia. It is about four elderly men, arrested in North Georgia for terrorist activity. The episode features Tom Junod, who wrote an article for Esquire Magazine, Counter-Terrorism Is Getting Complicated. The article has much more information than a twenty minute radio show.
The story focuses on Fred Thomas. A retired Navy man, he worked for Lockheed in Virginia, and moved to Georgia when he retired. He began to hang out on the internet, focusing on a militia forum. After BHO was inaugurated, Mr. Thomas felt that America was going downhill. He met some men online who agreed. The men started to meet. One of the players was a government agent.
The informer was named Joe Sims. (PG does not know if this is his birth name.) According to Esquire, Mr. Sims is a slimy character. He got in trouble, and then got out of jail to work as a snitch.
It is interesting to note that two of wives, of the accused, did not like Mr. Sims. Charlotte Thomas, the wife of Fred, only met him once. Mrs. Thomas was a Frank Sinatra fanatic. When Mr. Sims was in their home, he saw the Sinatra shrine. Joe said, “The trouble with Frank Sinatra is that he can’t sing”.
As the story went down, the old men, and Joe the snitch, had many meetings where they said that something violent needed to be done. Joe the snitch encouraged them, and set up a meeting with an “arms dealer”. Joe handed over his money, and the old man handed over some money. The federal swat team moved in, threw flash grenades, and arrested the old men. The conspirators were so scared they wet their pants. At the same time, the Frank Sinatra shrine was raided. The carpets have burn marks from the flash grenades.
A question was raised on radiolab, do you feel safer now? The feds encouraged the scheme, and helped drive it forward. One person speculated that the sheriff should have had a talk with the old men. Let them know that the law was wise to their game, and the activity would have stopped. Is it a good role for the government to encourage people to commit crimes? In at least one case, government agents recruited and paid people to take part in the “terrorism”. Is this a good use of taxpayer money, and, indeed, does it make us safer?
UPDATE There was a similar incident recently in Forsyth Counth. This is a repost. There are some crucial details left out of this post. Readers are encouraged to read the Esquire magazine article, Counter-Terrorism Is Getting Complicated. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.
Super Size Me 2: Holy Chicken!
Super Size Me 2: Holy Chicken! was recently the featured presentation at a documentary discussion group. Morgan Spurlock, is the auteur. In Super Size Me, Mr. Spurlock lived on a McDonald’s diet, and survived. SSM was successful enough to justify a sequel.
SSM2HC is not as much a documentary, as it is a “reality” show. Mr. Spurlock wants to open his own restaurant, with healthy food. A consultant sells him a bite of reality. “You know, consumers crave this food. They’re not willing to sacrifice the taste. But there’s this interesting shifting definition of health, so it’s not necessarily 100% healthy for you. It may be bad for you, it’s fried, but it’s got some vegetables in it, so you feel better about it. -So it’s a perception.” Another consultant tells him about the “health halo.” A pinch of lettuce, under the bun, makes the burger taste healthy.
Mr. Spurlock decides to go with chicken, and raise the birds himself. Mr. Spurlock will take the poultry that he raised, and feature them at his own restaurant: Holy Chicken. Nobody knows where he gets the capital, not to mention the time to make it all happen. Mr. Spurlock even has time to call the FDA, on camera, and ask about the rules are for labeling chickens “free range.”
The practices of “Big Chicken” get worked over. (An eye-rolling shot of Marietta’s Big Chicken was cut from the finished film.) It is tough to get real facts here. The giant poultry suppliers have some shady practices. It is in their best interest to keep the story from getting out. A warning letter is sent out by Thomas Super, “Senior Vice President Communications the National Chicken Council.”
The story rolls on. Mr. Spurlock finds an old Wendy’s, in Columbus OH, to house Holy Chicken. The place is decorated, employees are hired, and the media is alerted. Starting a new restaurant is another capital intensive, 25-hour-a-day job. Except for Morgan Spurlock. He takes time out, from his chicken farm, and his restaurant start up, to go to Washington DC. Mr. Spurlock goes, without an appointment, to the National Chicken Council. The plan is to invite Thomas Super to the Holy Chicken grand opening. Mr. Super declined the invitation.
SSM2HC is a joke. The consultants used are real. One wonders why they would participate in something like this … it must be true, there is no bad publicity. CCD Innovation, in $an Francisco, is a real company. Their story took a sad turn. “Kimberly Egan, CCD Innovation Partner, loses battle with breast cancer.” Ms. Egan is the other lady at the table in this clip.
No discussion of Morgan Spurlock is complete without his Me Too story. In December 2017, with the release of SSM2HC eminent, Mr. Spurlock released a statement about his problem. It is uncertain why he chose to do this, but it had consequences. It puts a different spin, on SSM2HC, to know about Morgan Spurlock. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
When In Doubt Shut Up
When in doubt, shut up.
A halo is best worn over one ear.
If you want to be forgiven, forgive. If you want to be understood, understand.
There are few situations that cannot be made worse with anger and loud talk.
You have two ears and one mouth. Listen twice as much as you talk.
A douche is a hygiene appliance. The verb form refers to using this device for cleaning purposes. Neither the noun, nor the verb, is appropriate as an insult.
A sentence has one period, placed at the end. Do not place a period after every word to make a point. You should find another way to show that you really, really mean it.
Not everyone enjoys the sound of your voice as much as you do.
Ass is a noun. It refers to either a donkey, or a butt. It is not an adverb, nor an adjective. Do not place ass between an adjective and a noun.
Before you “call out” somebody for “racism”, drape a towel over your mirror.
The third commandment says to not use the word G-d “in vain”. The G word should only be used for worship, and respectful discussion. Improper uses include expressing anger, selling life insurance, and pledging “allegiance” to a symbol of nationalism. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.
Call Out Culture
Some people just like to argue. The topic of discussion is irrelevant…they just enjoy the thrill of verbal combat. There is little to be gained by engaging these people. You should never argue with an idiot. They will drag you down to their level, and win by experience. If you wrestle with a hog, you get dirty, and the pig enjoys it. This is a repost
The idea that you should speak up, and call out, is popular these days. A popular quote, credited by some to Thomas Jefferson, says ” “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” Unfortunately, many people take sides without understanding the conflict. When you are goaded into foolish action, by irresponsible rhetoric, you choose the side of the oppressor. Often, the one claiming to be the victim is, in fact, the oppressor.
There are a lot of logical fallacies today. Two wrongs making a right. False equivalence. Whining about media coverage. Opinions are like elbows… everyone has two. Don’t talk about religion or politics. Don’t talk with your mouth full. If you can’t say anything good, don’t say anything at all. If everybody shouts, then nobody is heard.
Are you trying to create change, or are you like a dog that wants to bark? If you are going to influence a person, you have to earn that person’s trust. If this person hears you repeating things that are not true, then they are not going to trust you. Once lost, trust is very difficult to regain.
You should think about things like cognitive dissonance, confirmation bias, and mythos over logos. People are hit over the head with a lot of rhetoric and polemic these days. Sorting out the conflicting claims can be tough. You can get into narcotizing dysfunction. This is where you hear so much about something that you tune out new information. When you call out someone, are you pouring water into a barrel that is already overflowing?
This text between the pictures (“The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”) has focused on foolish talk. The word listen has not been used. We don’t need to talk more. We need to listen more. You have two ears, and one mouth, for a reason.
Diane Linkletter Part Three
On Halloween, 1948, a fifth child was born to radio personality Art Linkletter and his wife Lois. The couple named the baby Diane. Her godfather was Walt Disney. … Diane’s life was untroubled until her teenage years. Like most teens, she struggled to find herself. Diane’s path to adulthood was complicated when she eloped at age 17 with Grant Conroy (seven years her senior). Diane thought she was pregnant, and Grant offered to “do the right thing.” When she discovered she was not pregnant, her parents had the marriage annulled. Diane and Grant never even lived together.”
“Diane moved into Shoreham Towers, a luxury building in West Hollywood. The building’s residents were older than Diane, so she made friends closer to her age in the neighborhood. One of Diane’s new friends was Ed Durston, who lived with a roommate in a building across from hers. On Friday evening, October 3, 1969, Diane went out with a friend, Robert Reitman, to a show at the Griffith Observatory. Robert dropped Diane off at her apartment about midnight.”
Bob Jameson says “Ed Durston was a shady dude to say the least.” Ed Durston, aka David E. Durston, was with Diane when she took her final step. In the seventies Mr. Durston became the director of gay porn movies, with Manhole and Boy ‘Napped.
In 1985, Mr. Durston went to Manzanillo, Colima, Mexico, with Carol Wayne. She was an actress, best known as the “Matinee Lady” with Johnny Carson. Miss Wayne drowned on January 13, 1985. IMDB says it was “extremely suspicious circumstances.” Ed Durston died May 6, 2010.
SECOND HOMICIDE INVESTIGATION PROGRESS REPORT covers the incident at 10050 Cielo Drive, August 9, 1969 … the murder of Sharon Tate, and four companions. “On Saturday, 10-4-69, Dianna Linkletter committed suicide at her residence by jumping from the 6th floor kitchen window at her apartment. At the time she jumped, Edward Durston (LA 978 312D) was in the apartment. … As result of previous information from an unreliable informant, Durston had come up as a possible suspect in this case. With Sheriff’s homicide investigators cooperating completely (supervised by Lt. Norman Hamilton), Durston was given polygraph examinations … Included in the examinations were some keys in the Tate homicides. The polygraph operator … , and the investigators are convinced Durston was not involved in the Linkletter death or the Tate case.”
“Also connected with Durston in the original information received were three other hippies, all users of drugs and car thieves: Harvey F. Dareff (LA 978 313D), is the boy friend of Dianna Linkletter, and had lived with her for several months and was substantially supported by her. He is presently in New York as of approximately 9-25-69. He has not been eliminated as a suspect. …. Robert Parker MacDonald, aka Bobby Jamison (LA 684-737J), and James Steven Williams (LA 978-318W); these two subjects are presently in the Sunset Strip area and dealing in narcotics. Narcotics Division, LAPD is attempting to build a case on both subjects at this time. Neither has been eliminated positively as suspects. Investigators feel Dareff is a good suspect as some information has been received indicating he may have gone to the Cielo residence on the evening of 8-8-69, to possibly buy or sell narcotics. This information has not been verified–investigation is continuing.”
The Cielo Drive killings were unsolved on October 4. There are other indications that “Linkletter was a friend of Abigail Folger and probably knew Sharon Tate. … Durston was a “speaking acquaintance” of Voityck Frokowski.” You cannot discuss these cases without wild eyed speculation. Some of it involves the players in the Linkletter drama. It can be neither proved, nor disproved.
“Diane Linkletter-Harvey Dareff’s live in girlfriend, supposedly committed suicide in the presence of Ed Durston … (Durston was an early LAPD suspect in the Tate murders.) … Dareff was at the Cielo Drive residence the afternoon of the murders as part of a drug deal. (recall that a large MDA shipment was due to be delivered to Cielo the evening of the murders). … Dareff and Durston’s friend Bobby Jameson are very strongly believed to be two of the hippies in the van who famously drove caretaker William Garretson home from Sunset the evening of the murders … “
This concludes a three part series. (one two three ) For more accurate information, you can see a John Waters movie The Diane Linkletter Story. There is a book, Diane Linkletter: A Princess Wrongly Accused. At all times, you should be skeptical of everything you hear. “Inter city beauties, Atlantic City Pageant, 1925” illustrate this feature. These images are from The Library of Congress.
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