Tubby Boots
PG found Classic Television Showbiz while reserarching a recent feature about the late Sherwood Schwartz. The site is a treasure, with youtubes of classic tv shows, and interviews with “entertainers”. Somewhere in the sidebar was a link to a story about Tubby Boots. This is a repost.
Charles “Tubby” Boots was born around 1926 in Baltimore MD. He was a nightclub comedian. Mr. Boots weighed 375 pounds, had bleach blond hair, and often performed without a shirt. He wore pasties on his boobs, and would twirl them simultaneously in opposite directions.
The parts in blue are borrowed from Classic television showbiz. Tubby’s parents were a vaudevillian dance team called Boots and Barton. At the age of seven this youngster was clocking in at an astounding two hundred pounds, a constant target of ridicule in his Baltimore schoolyard….During his childhood, Tubby managed to witness a performance by comedy’s greatest cult icon, Lord Buckley … Tubby Boots recalled shortly before his death, “[Lord Buckley] was like a father figure to me. I met Buckley when I was seven years old when I was working at the Hippodrome in Baltimore, Maryland, and I was in awe of him. I saw his act every time he would come back to play the theater … I would sit in the theater all day and watch the shows. I’d stay out of school for the whole week – my mother would pack me a lunch – she knew what I was doing because I wanted to learn about show business. Buckley would do his hat-switching act. Every other show he would get me to do it with him. I’d hang out with him backstage, we’d go out for lunch or dinner, he’d sneak me back into the theater and I’d watch the whole stage show again. I started working nightclubs when I was eleven. I weighed 250 pounds and passed myself off as twenty-one. I got arrested in a strip joint and the police said: ‘We’re not going to throw you in jail but you’re not going to work in this town again – you’re too notorious.’ So they actually put me on a train and said ‘Where you wanna ticket to?’ I said, ‘New York.’ I didn’t run away – I was forced to leave. So when I got to New York I called Buckley and, pretending to sob, said, ‘My mama died in a car crash…my father was with her…’ Unbeknownst to me, he called my mother and told her, ‘He’s with me.’ So he got me a job at The Three Deuces, passing me off as twenty-one.” The Three Deuces was one of Manhattan’s major jazz holes in the thirties and forties, regularly featuring Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker. Lord Buckley was connected to the jazz world for most of his career, performing in their clubs and utilizing a great deal of the Black hipster vernacular in his act.”
Mr. Boots got a job as the emcee for burlesque shows, frequently in traveling carnival shows. He was doing well, when Lord Buckley called him from Hollywood. Supposedly, there was a movie job waiting for Mr. Boots. When he got to California, he found out otherwise. “Tubby became affectionately known as Princess Lily. “He used to call me Princess Lily but Prince Charles of Booth was my title. Buckley used to say: ‘Lil! You had the misfortune to be born with the beautiful body of a woman in the ridiculous body of a man!””
In 1959, Mr. Boots was in a bizarre accident. He was taking a bath, and the controls for the hot and cold water were in another room. Lord Buckley was handling these controls, and poured scalding hot water into the tub. Mr. Boots was stuck in the tub, and was badly burned. He spent a week in the hospital, and was not friends with Lord Buckley later.
After he recovered, Mr. Boots moved to Miami Beach. He performed in motel lounges for many years, and developed a following. Comedy albums were becoming popular, and Mr. Boots contributed “Thin my be in but fats where its at”. The albums were sold at his shows. The legend is that no copies exist that were not autographed.
The various search engines are sketchy about Tubby Boots. The Lady Bunny tells about going to see Mr. Boots in a supper club on Long Island in the eighties. Reportedly Mr. Boots did well during the comedy club explosion of the eighties.
PG saw a show by Tubby Boots. It was December 1974, at a dingy Atlanta bar called The Cove. PG was hanging out with someone we will call McClain, who liked the drag shows at The Cove. The bar was a former electronics warehouse, with a sign for Ballantines Beer by the front entrance. Ballantines had not been sold in Georgia for a long time, but the sign stayed. This was on Monroe Drive, behind Piedmont Park. Tubby Boots was a friend of somebody, and did a show at The Cove one night.
If you can stand to look at the embedded video, you get an idea about his show. Forty years later, PG can remember a few of the jokes. There was a one liner about an *African American* who took a shit, and thought he was melting. There was a routine based on the role Katherine Hepburn played in “Suddenly Last Summer”. My boy is not queeyer, he’s carnivorous. After a while, the shirt came off, and he twirled pasties from his boobs in different directions.
After the show, PG talked to a black friend, who did not want to meet the comedian. Meanwhile, Tubby Boots and McClain were making out. Before long, McClain came over to PG, and said he wanted to go somewhere else. McClain died in July, 1992. Tubby Boots died in August, 1993. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.
Chanel Miller
UCSB Alumna Chanel Miller Comes Forward As Emily Doe was the slow-news-day headline. The lady saw a payday coming out, and decided to publicize her book. The public reaction has been tepid. Perhaps people have been outraged out. This is a repost.
@chamblee54 “My first reaction to the impact statement was that the victim did not write it. At the very least, she had help.” There is nothing wrong with using a ghost writer. The story belongs to the person who is telling it. However, some supporters of Miss Miller were offended by the suggestion. @VioletOlivine “There are many folks who have read and interacted with her work far before her survivor statement was published. I don’t know if you’ll be able to take my word for it since you can’t take hers.” This presupposes that Chanel Miller is the she we speak of.
“Totally written by Michelle Dauber.” The discussion had gone on for a while. PG had never heard of Michelle Dauber. It seems as though she is a leader in the successful effort to recall Judge Aaron Persky. A bit of googling turns up a few tidbits about @mldauber.
“Dauber’s opponents, however, often speculate that the recall was an act of revenge because of her friendship with Emily Doe’s family. After Doe penned a … letter to Turner that quickly went viral, critics suggested Dauber had been the author. Dauber flatly rejected that accusation, and dismissed the notion that she’s out for personal revenge as “so ridiculous it doesn’t even deserve a response.”
“Stanford University law professor Michele Dauber is one of the leaders of the recall campaign. Dauber is a friend of the victim’s and was in the courtroom for Turner’s sentencing. She’s an outspoken on-campus activist who has helped push through more stringent sexual harassment and abuse reporting and investigation policies. Dauber also is an adept Democratic fundraiser who has organized a well-financed recall campaign with glossy mailers juxtaposing photos of Persky with President Trump and Turner’s booking mug shot.”
@onionringslut “chanel miller deserves to be @TIME person of the year. you can’t change my mind.” @mldauber “YES.” The twitter feed of Ms. Dauber has enthusiastically supported Chanel Miller. This would tend to confirm that Chanel Miller is, in fact, Emily Doe. Rape shield laws protect the exact identity of the victim, and a big payday awaits. This would seem to be an opportunity for a fake Emily Doe to step in. However, Michelle Dauber is acknowledged to be a friend of Emily Doe. Her support of the upcoming book would seem to confirm the authenticity of Ms. Miller’s claim.
Researching this post turned up a delightful tweet. Remember, this is a law professor at Stanford University. @mldauber “Hitler had lawyers. Loads of them. And everything that his government did had a busy beehive of lawyers working away on making sure it was all done legally. The same legal profession that blessed the Third Reich is blessing Trump now. Lawyers serve power not the people.”
Chamblee54 has written about Brock Turner before. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
Know What To Do
The Same Drugs: James Lindsay still thinks 2+2=4. There was another youtube conversation. @ConceptualJames talked about a conversation with one of “my actual right-wing friends.”
“I was talking to one though, and this guy’s like you know old school, and super super right-wing … so he said the word racist doesn’t mean anything to me anymore, at all, if somebody calls me racist it doesn’t mean anything, however … I know what the word racist means for me and i’m going to continue not being racist by that definition.”
@ConceptualJames has a lively twitter feed. Yesterday brought “Critical race theory in a single image.” The picture was from another youtube show, Ashleigh Shackelford gives a presentation on Racism. Someone is standing in front of a group of white people, with a sign that says “all white people are racist.” The lady is “Hunter Ashleigh Shackelford (she/ they) … Black fat cultural producer, multidisciplinary artist, nonbinary shapeshifter, hood feminist, and data futurist”
“all white people are racist so I put this up because I really want any white person in the room to know up front that this is what we’re dealing with, that it’s not going to be this coddling of white tears … we’re not going to discuss oh maybe some of us have work it out no you’re always going to be racist actually so even when you’re on your path to trying to figure out how to be a better human being … I believe that white people are born to not be human … instead of people of color and black folks being dehumanized that actually everyone is human … within white supremacy that y’all are born into a life to not be human and … y’all are taught to do to be demons so in this particular way white people are all racist so I just want y’all to know that it’s wrong”
Pictures are from The Library of Congress.
Radio Free Europe
While researching a post about Molly Ivins, PG stumbled onto a lovely site called Booknotes. This site enables authors promoting their latest books. It seems to have gone out of business in December 2004, but the interviews are still available. PG likes to listen to “stuff” while he edits pictures, and Booknotes appears to be a treasure chest.
The multi tasking soundtrack last night was a chat with Hendrik Hertzberg, who is familiar to readers of The New Yorker. BTW, the majority of TNY readers live west of the Hudson River. Supposedly, the biggest number of readers is in California.
In 1965, Mr. Hertzberg was about to get drafted. At the time, this meant a one way ticket to Vietnam. Young men looked for alternatives to this, some of which were legal and moral. Mr. Hertzberg heard about an organization called the National Student Association. “And so I went to work after college for the National Student Association for a year. And it wasn`t just because the National Student Association was a wonderful cause that advanced liberal ideas and fought communism abroad and all of that sort of thing. Later, we learned that it was a CIA front, but I didn`t know that. What I did know was that if you worked for the National Student Association, you didn`t get drafted, that — it wasn`t exactly that you were deferred, but anyway, nobody got drafted while working for the National Student Association, so it was a way to have a year without worrying about getting drafted.”
The National Student Association has a facebook page, which one person likes. “The 1967 revelation of NSA’s ties to the Central Intelligence Agency sparked a national scandal, but did not measurably damage NSA.”
The CIA was involved in all sorts of things in those days. ( It still is today.) One of the fronts was Radio Free Europe. When PG was a kid, the cartoon shows had a commercial for Radio Free Europe. (It was different from the one embedded here.) These fund raising commercials were part of the scam. These commercials netted around $50k a year, towards a multi-million dollar budget. (source)
Soon after the war stories, the conversation turns to religion/tribal allegiance. LAMB: Explain this. “The Nuremberg laws would say I`m Jewish. The Law of Return would say I`m not.” HERTZBERG: Well, according to the Nuremberg laws, if you have a — if you had a Jewish father, the Nazi classification, you were a Jew. But the Law of Return, where — what entitles you to citizenship, automatic citizenship in Israel, you`ve got to have to have a Jewish mother. So I`m Jewish one way, I`m not Jewish the other way. I guess I feel sort of 51 percent Jewish because my name, Hertzberg, sounds Jewish, and therefore, people respond to me, often assume that I`m … 100 percent Jewish.”
This conversation was in 2004, when BHO was a little known Senator. Today, BHO, who had a white mother, is routinely considered black. If you go by the laws of the Nazis, BHO is black. If you go by the laws of Israel, BHO is white.
Mr. Hertzberg took a break from journalism to write speeches for President Jimmy Carter. Mr. Hertzberg is a member of the Judson Wellover Society. HERTZBERG: Judson Wellover was the very first White House speech writer. Not the first person to write speeches, ghost write speeches for a president — that would probably be Alexander Hamilton for George Washington — but the first person who was ever hired just to write speeches in the White House was Judson Wellover. He was hired by Warren G. Harding, and he — it was such a matter — it was such a shameful thing to have somebody writing — hired to write speeches that they hid his salary in the budget of the White House garage. And when we started, when Bill Safire and I started the Judson — the society of sort of a marching and chatter society or dinner — we have a dinner every couple of years of White House speech writers from all administrations, we named it after Judson Wellover.
Warren Harding is credited/blamed for coining the phrase “founding fathers”. Was Mr. Wellover involved? This is a repost, with pictures from The Library of Congress.
I Brought My Own Pears
How many South Americans does it take to screw in a lightbulb? A Brazillian.
My grandpa has the heart of a lion, and a lifetime ban from the zoo.
What do you get when you cross the Atlantic with the Titanic? About half way
So a squirrel living in a pine tree one day feels a shaking, looks down, and sees an elephant climbing the tree. The squirrel asks: “What are you doing climbing my tree?”
”Well, I’m coming up here to eat some pears” “This is a pine tree, there are no pears.”
“Well I brought my own pears.”
Why can’t Ray Charles see his friends? Cause he’s married.
If you ever get cold, just stand in a corner for a bit. They’re usually around 90 degrees.
When my Grandad was 65 he started running a mile a day to keep fit.
He’s 70 now and we have no idea where he is.
Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees? …….because they’re really good at it.
I think I want a job cleaning mirrors. it’s just something I could really see myself doing.
There are two monkeys in a bath tub. One says to another: oohoohahah!
The other says: Maybe add a little more cold water.
Did you hear about the two guys that stole a calendar? They each got six months.
Whats the difference between a dirty bus stop, and a lobster with breast implants? Ones a crusty bus station the other is a busty crustacean
So this guy walks into his bedroom with a chicken under his arm. His wife is laying in bed. The guy says, “This is the pig I fuck when you are not in the mood.”
”You fucking idiot. That’s not a pig!” “I was talking to the chicken.”
Two fish are in a tank. One is driving and the other one is operating the gun.
Two soldiers are in a tank. They both drown.
A priest, a rabbi, and a whale walk into a bar. The priest says, “Well I believe Jesus Christ is the only begotten son of God and my lord and savior, so I’ll have some wine.”
The rabbi says, “Well I don’t believe the messiah has yet walked the earth, so I’ll have Manischewitz wine.” The whale says “EEOONNHH”
What do you call a chicken coop with 4 doors? a chicken sedan.
Why aren’t there any knock knock jokes about freedom? Because freedom rings
What’s a hillbilly’s favorite thing to do on Halloween? pumpkin
What happened to the cow that jumped over the barbed wire fence? Udder destruction.
Where do animals go when their tails fall off? The retail store
What time does Sean Connery get to Wimbledon? Tennish.
What did the doctor say to the midget waiting in the lobby?
You’re just going to have to be a little patient.
A magician was driving down the road when he turned into a driveway.
What do you call a fish with no eyes? Fsh!
“I went to a zoo. It was completely empty, except for a single dog. It was a Shih Tzu.”
“Dad, I’m hungry.” “Hi, Hungry. I’m Dad.”
“I’m thirsty.” “Hi, Thursday, I’m Friday, let’s go out on a Saturday and have a Sunday.”
The only joke my dad ever told me was that he’d quit beating me. I was in stitches.
A man with carrots in his ears walks onto a bus, the bus driver says “Sir, why do you have carrots in your ears?” “WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU, I HAVE CARROTS IN MY EARS!”
Did you hear about the Mexican train killer? They say he had locomotives.
Nobody knows who to blame for these alleged jokes. Chamblee54 does not claim authorship, and would deny it if he did. This material was previously published. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Don’t Yuck On My Yum
Don’t yuck on my yum. This is a thing. It means that if I like something, and you don’t, then keep your disapproval to yourself. Don’t yuck on my yum. PG first heard this saying on the RISK podcast, probably in an episode where host Kevin Allison goes to kink camp.
PG can not track down the exact episode. It is in there somewhere, but looking for it is too much work. OTOH, PG can point out, with great precision, when he became persona non grata in the RISK community. He yucked on somebodies yum.
It started with this episode. Nimisha Ladva told the story “Mother in law.” Nimisha, newly married to David, is dreading a lunch date with his mother, Elaine. David told a story about how Elaine asked him if Nimisha was black. The young bride was outraged. At about ten minutes into the show, Nimisha is ranting about how horrible it was to eat lunch with a racist. PG made a comment in the “RISK! Podcast Fans Discussion Group.”
“I recently sent a link to the Paul Gilmartin story to a friend. He is in the AA program, and I thought he would enjoy the atory. Here is the email I sent with that link. – This is a link to a story. It is an AA war story. It starts at 20 minutes. The first story in this show is about an Indian lady, who does not like her Jewish mother in law. At ten minutes into the show, the bride says “I am going to have to spend the day with a racist.” – At this point, I turned off the show in anger. I am sensitive to the term racist, for perfectly obvious reasons. I did not want to listen to the rest of the show. – When I decided to send you the link, I had to listen to the part of the show around the 20 minute mark, so I could know when the war story started. I set the timer for 18 minutes, and listened to the end of the mother in law story. There is a twist in the story, and everyone is friends now. The bride says “I am ashamed of reducing her to her racism.”
As anyone with internet access knows, a comment like that is likely to stir up trouble. People enjoy the sport of trashing another human being because of their racial attitudes. If you follow this link, you can see the dogpile that resulted. It got to be a cliche party, with chestnuts like this: “I would invite you to reflect on your pain in being called racist, and imagine how much worse it is to experience racism. Dismantling racism is the goal, not making sure no ones feelings are hurt.”
Performative name calling does does not affect police brutality, economic opportunity, or access to decent housing. All it does, in this case, is hold up a lady to ridicule, based on her perceived racial values. This social justice performance art goes on all the time, and if you object to it, then you can expect to be called a racist. The white savior considers criticism of their privilege to be racism, and does not have a problem with telling you about it.
It should be noted that their were other yumyucking incidents. The one described merely is the first one. There were other breaches of *community standards*, until Kevin delivered the “you’re an asshole” fatwa. When you do the work of creating a show, you earn the right to ban inconvenient members of the audience. PG can say he did nothing wrong as much as he likes.
Calling people racist is their yum. And when you say that this is not really a good thing to do, you are yucking on their yum. This facebook thread was the first time some of these people have heard that saying racist is not helpful. If you engage with them, you violate an ancient bit of wisdom: Never wrestle with a hog. You will just get dirty, and the pig will enjoy himself. Pictures for this conflict devolution chronicle are from The Library of Congress.
Nicholas Sandmann
“Good evening everyone, my name is Nick Sandmann, and I’m the teenager who was defamed by the media after an encounter with a group of protesters on the steps of the Lincoln memorial last year.” Mr. Sandmann made a video for the Republican National Convention. Mr. Sandmann cleans up nicely, and can read a script. The chicken-hawk branch of the Grand Old Party was charmed.
Covington Catholic could expel students seen in confrontation with Native American man It is amazing to look back on the story. “Mainstream media” bought the story, and gleefully went into attack mode. It soon became apparent that woke media had been asleep all along. After the lawsuits were settled, Mr. Sandmann gets to live his Catholic life.
The video was convention week entertainment for the MAGA masses. Few doubters will become true believers. Two claims in the video may fire up the base, but will inspire eye-rolling from others.
“I know you’ll agree with me when we say that no one in this country has been a victim of unfair media coverage more than president Donald Trump.” Donald John Trump is not a victim of anybody. POTUS plays the media like a musical instrument. Trolling the “liberal media” is a stepping stone to glory. And yet, his followers feel anger over “unfair media coverage.”
“I bought a make america great again hat because our President, Donald Trump, has distinguished himself as one of the most pro-life presidents in the history of our country, and i wanted to express my support for him.” Abortion is a great issue for a con artist. You cannot prove, or disprove, that Donald J. Trump has been an abortion baby daddy. Many people assume that he has. There is little doubt that Mr. Trump cynically knows a good issue when he smells one. Mr. Trump is going to beat the pro-life drum, with the same gusto as Nathan Phillips at the Lincoln Memorial. His gullible Catholic followers will believe him. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
A Sad Event
It is with the saddest heart that I must pass on the following news. Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection, and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.
Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs.Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours. Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded.
Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he was still a crusty old man and was considered a roll model for millions.
Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly dad, Pop Tart.
I am not clever enough to compose the above piece. Credit is hereby given to whoever wrote it. This is a repost. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. The spell check suggestion for Doughboy is Doughnut.
The Ten Suggestions
Someone had an idea for a book. The result is Atheist Mind, Humanist Heart: Rewriting the Ten Commandments for the Twenty-first Century. The method was modern. Instead of waiting for a grumpy deity to send down tablets of stone, some academics sent a box of suggestions to a committee. committee. Here are the chosen “non-commandments.”
01– Be open-minded and be willing to alter your beliefs with new evidence.
02– Strive to understand what is most likely to be true, not to believe what you wish to be true.
03– The scientific method is the most reliable way of understanding the natural world.
04– Every person has the right to control over their body.
05– God is not necessary to be a good person or to live a full and meaningful life.
06– Be mindful of the consequences of all your actions,
and recognize that you must take responsibility for them.
07– Treat others as you would want them to treat you,
and can reasonably expect them to want to be treated. Think about their perspective.
08– We have the responsibility to consider others, including future generations.
09– There is no one right way to live.
10– Leave the world a better place than you found it.
You have to give credit for trying. It might sell a few books. The non-commandments don’t have the benefit of translation by a poetry minded Englishmen. They have a stodgy feel. It is not likely that anyone will file a lawsuit over a stone rendering of these thoughts.
The popular commandments are found in Exodus 20: 3 – 17. They are considered core beliefs of a religion that values belief over practice. In other words, just believe something, and don’t worry about what you do. There is also Exodus 20: 23. Ye shall not make with me G-ds of silver, neither shall ye make unto you G-ds of gold. This would seem to be worthy of inclusion in the big time ten. It might interfere with the capitalist free market economy, but you can always say you believe it.
When your religion is claimed by a majority of your neighbors, you enjoy #ChristianPrivilege. You can even whine about #WhitePrivilege, while enjoying the benefits of #ChristianPrivilege. One day, the pound sign will go back to meaning number, and the #hashtag will be mercifully forgotten, along with the Ten Non-Commandments.
If you get past the religious whoopeedo, the Ten Commandments hold up as good rules for living. The fact that the self anointed religious people routinely violate many of these fine rules should not be taken into consideration. They believe in the commandments, and can, loudly, explain why their actions are not a problem. After a while, PG just wants freedom from religion.
Part two is a repost. After Exodus 20, there are ten thoughts about the Ten Commandments.
1 And G-d spake all these words, saying,
2 I [am] the LORD thy G-d, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt,
out of the house of bondage.
3 Thou shalt have no other G-ds before me.
4 Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness [of any thing] that [is] in heaven above, or that [is] in the earth beneath, or that [is] in the water under the earth:
5 Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy G-d [am] a jealous G-d, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children
unto the third and fourth [generation] of them that hate me;
6 And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments. 7 Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy G-d in vain;
for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.
8 Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.
9 Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work:
10 But the seventh day [is] the sabbath of the LORD thy G-d: [in it] thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that [is] within thy gates:
11 For [in] six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them [is], and rested the seventh day: wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it.
12 Honour thy father and thy mother:
that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy G-d giveth thee.
13 Thou shalt not kill.
14 Thou shalt not commit adultery.
15 Thou shalt not steal.
16 Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.
17 Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that [is] thy neighbour’s.
A The ten commandos are not meant to be believed. They are meant to be practiced.
B If you take away the religious whoopdeedoo,
the ten commandos hold up as common sense rules for living.
C If you ever meet someone who claims to practice all of the commandos,
then you are dealing with a liar.
D We are all G-d’s children. She gave you a heart and a mind. When in doubt, trust your heart. E The first commando is powerful and under appreciated.
It does not include books about G-d, or the so called son of G-d.
F There is an ongoing controversy about the public display of the ten commandos. Some say such displays violate the second commando.
PG wonders if having a sign forbidding lying and stealing is going to work in a courthouse.
G The third commando is more than G-d’s last name. It is about the proper use of a sacred name. In a perfect world, the word G-d would only be used for worship and respectful discussion. A “pledge of allegiance” to a nationalist symbol is not an appropriate use of a sacred name.
H Sunday is too fine of a day to spend inside a church house.
I When you are discussing religion, it is normal to be a hypocrite.
If you disagree with someone, the easiest argument to scream hypocrisy.
J Whenever possible, show kindness to your neighbor.
K The text for Exodus 20 is courtesy of King James Bible Online. Pictures are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
The Gift Of Cultural Appropriation
This is a repost from 2015. There is a tasteful video on the innertubes today, WTF is Cultural Appropriation. This is not about WTF Podcast. Hopefully Marc Maron will not wear his hair in dreadlocks. The video shows a black man, jumping around in front of the camera, sharing his ideas about cultural appropriation.
Perhaps we should summarize what @the1janitor has to say. He does not give a shit what people do with their hair. (Does he gift wrap the shit when he does give it?) T1J is not concerned over whether Iggy Azalea sings rap songs. Most culture today is a mix of influences, and T1J is cool with that. This chill does not extend to a pro football team in Hyattsville MD, whose nickname rhymes with munchkins. T1J, aka Kevin Peterson, does not think that is appropriate.
T1J wears dreadlocks. Many Amerikans see this hairstyle as connected to the Rastafarians in Jamaica. T1J is not a rasta, but is not accused of any appropriative wrongdoing by wearing his hair in dreadlocks. It seems the reason for this acceptance is his African American origin.
This is similar to the situation with BHO. The half white POTUS was raised by white people in Hawaii and Indonesia. And yet, because he has dark skin, BHO is unquestioningly accepted as a black man. The POTUS uses the style of black culture that he learned as an adult. When a white fool shoots up a black church, BHO goes to a funeral, sings “Amazing Grace,” and is praised.
Many of these cultural and racial debates are very shallow. Judgements are made on outside appearances, rather than the real person under the skin. The dream of people not “judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character” has turned into a nightmare of petty wrangling over white privilege and cultural appropriation.
So much for content. What caught PG’s eye was the background. There is a Crimson Tide poster on the wall, behind the speaker, that seemed familiar. PG has seen T1J before, in a video titled Why I Disagree With Morgan Freeman. T1J says we need to talk about racism, then talk some more, and then talk more after that. The word listen is not used as often.
The University of Alabama football team poster is an ironic touch. NCAA football teams are highly exploitative of young people. The young men who play work long hours for their education. Many of the football players are rushed through school, taking easy classes so they will be eligible to play. Many of these young men will suffer crippling injuries playing a contact sport. Meanwhile, these football programs are hugely profitable for the institution, especially at a football factory like the University of Alabama. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. The men in the seven photographs below were members of The Tuskegee Airmen
The Funeral Of Elvis
This is a repost. PG was going to write about some depressing subject. People that are not kind to each other. People in Israel and people in Gaza just don’t seem to get along. Somebody driving a “faded red F-150 pickup truck” in Livonia MI was mean to a little girl. (HT to Neo Prodigy.) Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
There is a saying, “if a story seems too bad to be true, it probably isn’t”. PG tried to google that phrase, and got confused. Then he seemed to remember reading it in a column by Molly Ivins. Another google adventure, and there was this video. Miss Ivins, who met her maker January 31, 2007, was promoting a book. She sat down with a bald headed man to talk about it. PG could only listen to 24:30 of this video before being seized with the urge to write a story. There is a transcript, which makes “borrowing” so much easier. This film has 34 minutes to go, which just might yield another story.
Molly Ivins was a Texas woman. These days there is a lot of talk about Texas, with Governor Big Hair aiming to be the next POTUS under indictment. Mr. Perry claims that his record as Texas Governor qualifies him to have his finger on the nuclear trigger. Miss Ivins repeats something that PG has heard before… “in our state we have the weak governor system, so that really not a great deal is required of the governor, not necessarily to know much or do much. And we’ve had a lot of governors who did neither. “ It makes you wonder how much of that “economic miracle” is because of hair spray.
Texas politics makes about as much sense as Georgia politics. For a lady, with a way with words, it is a gold mine. “the need you have for descriptive terms for stupid when you write about Texas politics is practically infinite. Now I’m not claiming that our state Legislature is dumber than the average state Legislature, but it tends to be dumb in such an outstanding way. It’s, again, that Texas quality of exaggeration and being slightly larger than life. And there are a fair number of people in the Texas Legislature of whom it could fairly be said, `If dumb was dirt, they would cover about an acre.’ And I’m not necessarily opposed to that. I’m–agree with an old state senator who always said that, `If you took all the fools out of the Legislature, it would not be a representative body anymore.'”
We could go through this conversation for a long time, but you probably want to skip ahead and look at pictures. There is one story in this transcript that is too good not to borrow. For some reason, Molly Ivins went to work for The New York Times, aka the gray lady. In August of 1977, she was in the right place at the right time.
Mr. LAMB: And how long did you spend with The New York Times as a reporter?
Ms. IVINS: Six years with The New York Times. Some of it in New York as a political reporter at City Hall in Albany and then later as bureau chief out in the Rocky Mountains.
Mr. LAMB: Would you take a little time and tell us about reporting on the funeral of Elvis Presley?
Ms. IVINS: Oh, now there is something that when I’ve been standing in the checkout line at the grocery store and if I really need to impress people, I just let fall that I covered Elvis’ funeral. And, boy, people just practically draw back with awe. It may yet turn out to be my greatest claim to fame.
I was sitting in The New York City Times one day when I noticed a whole no–knot of editors up around the desk having a–a great scrum of concern, you could tell. It looked sort of like an anthill that had just been stepped on. And it turns out–The New York Times has a large obituary desk, and they prepare obituaries for anybody of prominence who might croak. But it turns out–you may recall that Elvis Presley died untimely and they were completely unprepared.
Now this is an enormous news organization. They have rock music critics and classical music critics and opera critics, but they didn’t have anybody who knew about Elvis Presley’s kind of music. So they’re lookin’ across a whole acre of reporters, and you could see them decide, `Ah-ha, Ivins. She talks funny. She’ll know about Mr. Presley.’
So I wound up writing Elvis’ obituary for The New York Times. I had to refer to him throughout as Mr. Presley. It was agonizing. That’s the style at The New York Times–Mr. Presley. Give me a break. And the next day they sold more newspapers than they did after John Kennedy was assassinated, so that even the editors of The New York Times, who had not quite, you know, been culturally aton–tuned to Elvis, decided that we should send someone to report on the funeral. And I drew that assignment. What a scene it was.
Mr. LAMB: You–you say in the book that you got in the cab and you said, `Take me to Graceland.’ The cabbie peels out of the airport doing 80 and then turns full around to the backseat and drawls, `Ain’t it a shame Elvis had to die while the Shriners are in town?’
Ms. IVINS: That’s exactly what he said. `Shame Elvis had to die while the Shriners are in town.’ And I kind of raised by eyebrows. And sure enough, I realized what he–what he meant after I had been there for awhile because, you know, Shriners in convention–I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a whole lot of Shriners in convention, but they were having a huge national convention that very week in Memphis. And they tend to wear their little red fezzes, and sometimes they drink too much and they march around the hotel hallways tooting on New Year’s Eve horns and riding those funny little tricycles and generally cutting up and having a good time. That’s your Shriners in convention, always something very edifying and enjoyable to watch. But they–every–every hotel room in Memphis was occupied with celebrating Shriners, and then Elvis dies and all these tens of thousands of grieving, hysterical Elvis Presley fans descend on the town.
So you got a whole bunch of sobbing, hysterical Elvis fans, you got a whole bunch of cavorting Shriners. And on top of that they were holding a cheerleading camp. And the cheerleading camp–I don’t know if your memory–with the ethos of the cheerleading camp, but the deal is that every school sends its team–team of cheerleaders to cheerleading camp.
And your effort there at the camp is to win the spirit stick, which looks, to the uninitiated eye, a whole lot like a broom handle painted red, white and blue. But it is the spirit stick. And should your team win it for three days running, you get to keep it. But that has never happened. And the way you earn the spirit stick is you show most spirit. You cheer for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You cheer when the pizza man brings the pizza. You do handsprings end over end down the hallway to the bathroom. I tell you, those young people will throw–show an amount of spirit that would just astonish you in an effort to win that stick.
So here I was for an entire week, dealing with these three groups of people: the young cheerleaders trying to win the spirit stick, the cavorting Shriners and the grieving, hysterical Elvis fans. And I want to assure you that The New York Times is not the kind of newspaper that will let you write about that kind of rich human comedy.
Mr. LAMB: Why?
Ms. IVINS: Because The New York Times, at least in my day, was a very stuffy, pompous newspaper.
Mr. LAMB: What about today?
Ms. IVINS: A little bit better, little bit better than it was.
Mr. LAMB: And…
Ms. IVINS: Has–has–it has a tendency, recidivist tendencies, though. You–you will notice if you read The Times, it–it collapses into pomposity and stuffiness with some regularity.
Mr. LAMB: Why did you leave it?
Ms. IVINS: Well, I–I actually got into trouble at The New York City Times for describing a community chu–chicken killing out West as a gang pluck. Abe Rosenthal was then the editor of the Times and he was not amused.
Mr. LAMB: Did–but did they let it go? Did they let it…
Ms. IVINS: Oh, no. It never made it in the paper. Good heavens, no. Such a thing would never get in The Times in my day.
POSTSCRIPT PG found some pictures, marked up the text, and was ready to post the story. He decided to listen to a bit more of the discussion between Molly Ivins and the bald headed man. When he got to this point, it became apparent that he could listen to Molly Ivins talk, or he could post his story, but he could not do both at the same time.
Ms. IVINS: Oh, well, of course, I’m gonna make fun of it. I mean, Berkeley, California, if you are from Texas, is just hilarious.
Mr. LAMB: Why?
Ms. IVINS: Well, of course, it is just the absolute center of liberalism and political correctness. And it is a veritable hotbed of people, of–bless their hearts, who all think alike, in a liberal way. And, of course, I’m sometimes called a liberal myself, and you would think I would have felt right at home there. But I just am so used to–I’m so used to Texas that I found the culture at Berkeley hysterical.
The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest Part Two
Part Two of the 2020 chamblee54 report on The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is here. Part one is there. Pictures for this affair are from The Library of Congress.
In Gertrude’s experience lovemaking was always bittersweet, or at least it had been until one fateful night when Chaz, the seductive man behind the concession stand blessed her with the salty-sweet bliss reminiscent of both true romance and quality kettle corn.
Julie Winspear, Washington, D.C.
Gasping for breath as she lay in the dew-laden lakeside grass, Rifka Lieberman’s chest heaved with rising passion as Saul Cohen approached with the inhaler she had left behind at the assisted living facility. Leo Gordon, Los Angeles, CA
Farmer Bob, unlucky in love and life in general, received yet another Dear John letter, this time from Bubbles Magaggaggey, the last blind woman in town, so here he was, alone and penniless; so penniless, in fact, that he neglected to make the payments on his tractor and soon received a John Deere letter, coincidentally from Bubbles, who ran the Tractor Emporium.
DJ Hicks, Jr., Manchester, NJ
The quantum flux field of the post-Einsteinian hyperdrive has gone asymptotically and we are in danger of approaching singularity as described by the Schrodinger equations!” cried Captain Quirke, having no clue what he said, only knowing it sounded sciencey, secretly crossing his fingers behind his back and hoping there were no physicists reading because he didn’t want any pedantic letters saying it was nonsense. Sue Doenim, England
As the angry mob of poets filled the National Mall, a group of sonneteers and ballad-mongers surged toward the Capitol Building, but it wasn’t until the Japanese poem enthusiasts stormed the White House that I realized this was a genuine haiku d’etat. Bart King, Portland, OR
As sheriff, I had handled most of the Dwarf gang, having shot Sleepy, Bashful and Sneezy, strung up Grumpy and Dopey and disemboweled Happy, but Doc, since you got away, I’m sending Happy’s entrails to you, until we meet again. Arlen Feldman, Colorado Springs, CO
As Professor Quinter surveyed his students, his gaze was drawn to their scrappy sets of cookware and their bemused faces staring stupidly at the history professor’s presentation on Carthage, and with a sigh, Quinter realized that the students had misread the day’s agenda, which was “Hannibal Lecture. Savannah Carmichael, St. Charles, MO
She swept into the ballroom, expensively dressed, coiffed, and bejeweled, her opulent display most obviously done for the same reason that a baboon has a red butt, both saying, “Pay attention to me!” Jack Ciotti, The Villages, FL
“Dilly, Dilly,” Nelda sobbed, “Tell me you still care, Dilly,” as his blood spurted rhythmically onto her freshly-starched, pink pinafore—the one given to her on her 16th birthday by her maternal grandmother, Nana Gertrude, the one she had worn the previous Sunday to the witch dunking, the one she swore never to stain— which was now permanently stained, but she mused that it didn’t matter since it was in the same color family. Pat DuVal, Arlington, VA
Her breasts heaving like the 50-pound sacks of grain thrown over the shoulders of sweaty dock workers, Karen stepped up to the counter and demanded to see the manager, as only a Karen would. John W. Engle III, Houston, TX
Having lost part of her left ear while working in a circus knife-throwing act during the summer between her junior and senior years, Karen felt all the more reassured about her decision to major in statistics, but she couldn’t help but to ponder the probability of regaining physical symmetry were she to return to the circus for one more summer after she graduated. Steve Cormier, Slatington, PA
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