Bathtubs In The US Capitol
Two days ago, 99invisible posted a show, The Bathtubs or the Boiler Room . It seems as though an NPR reporter likes to go places she is not supposed to be in. In the basement of the US Capitol, she found a bathtub, carved out of a chunk of Italian marble.
“The bathtubs were installed around 1860 during the expansion of the Capitol. DC is known for its swampy summers, and legend has it that senators could be banished from the chamber if they were too smelly. But lawmakers—like most Americans at the time—didn’t have indoor plumbing at home. They needed a place where they could wash up. So, the Architect of the Capitol ordered six marble bath tubs, each three by seven feet and carved by hand in Italy, to be installed in the Capitol basement—three on the House side, three on the senate.”
The tubs were imported from Italy, and sent to the port of Baltimore. They arrived just in time for the War Between The States. They were quite a luxurious item. Today, they are forgotten, surrounded by HVAC machines, with one covered with plywood and file cabinets.
Pictures are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
Dangerous People
It is another saturday morning. Wake up, take medicine, eat breakfast, drink coffee, and consider the possibilities for the day. PG has been on a poetry binge lately. It is best to keep the momentum up. There is always material to be adapted.
There were a few paragraphs on facebook about the question of violence in protest. The other night, a few people in Berkely CA decided to greet Milo Haircut to their campus. Some “black bloc” troublemakers showed up, and did their thing. Is Milo so bad that the disruption was justified? Was black bloc played? If so, who was pulling the strings? Where does this leave us in the 045 regime? Inuiring minds want to know.
After a few trips to facebook and twitter, the rant was sawed into bite sized chunks. This will work nicely as text for today’s pictures. This poem does not have the performance appeal of sonnets about butt sex, but will do for today. When other poems are combined into a performance piece, today’s product might add flavor to the soup.
Maybe the best way to be creative is through font selection. A while back, PG took an image/text combination, and produced 28 versions of it in different fonts. There is surprisingly little variety. There is serif, and sans serif. There are fat letters, and skinny letters. Courier is spread out, and a bit complacent. Impact, the all caps weapon of choice for facebook, is beyond tacky. PG has been using candara, for sans serif, and cambria, for serif. The other option is faux cursive segoe. Maybe comic can be put into play, just to piss off any graphic geeks who wander in.
A twitter account posted a picture. The comment is “no, we can’t always “just agree to disagree.” The picture says, in all caps, “we can disagree and still love each other, unless, your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.” This is credited to “Robert Jones.” A google search leads to a rant based on the quote. “Note: this piece has been updated. The quote at the beginning of this piece, which we originally attributed to James Baldwin, is actually from Robert Jones, Jr, who goes by @SonofBaldwin, and who gave us permission to use his words.” The quote is pinned atop his twitter page, @SonofBaldwin.
Lets break this down. We can disagree, unless your disagreement *is rooted in* my oppression, AND denial of my humanity AND right to exist. There are a few weasel words there. What does “rooted in” mean? This is a botanical term, and just might with animals. Especially those high functioning mammals, whose brains produce opinions, and then fight over whose opinions have the most truth. This root structure is connected joined to three items. Is non acceptance of disagreement mandated only when all three conditions are met?
The condition that catches PG’s eye here is “denial of my humanity.” Many people like to fight racism through name calling. Is labeling someone racist a denial of their humanity? Once you other someone by pinning a derogatory label on them, they become less human. That is not my neighbor, that is a racist. I can do anything I want to that person, and it is ok, because he is a racist and he deserves it. Is this denial of my humanity?
Maybe it is time to go basic with the poem. Font will be comic sans, size 38. Inner color is 192 gray, with a 0-96-0 green border. The pictures will be railroad graffiti, photographed 04-19-2016. If the train had stopped the next day, the pictures would have been 04-20. It is time to turn off the internet, and focus on the product. The soundtrack will be RISK #816.
The desire to give credit, where perhaps debit is more appropriate, sent PG to the internet in search of the link listed above. While there, it shouldn’t hurt to look at twitter, now will it? This leads to the discovery of a delightful waste of time, I’m no pussy when it comes to swearing. A british article about swearing! And in the first paragraph is the word of the month. “…More bluntly: once, telling someone to “fuck off” suggested they had probably bashed you round the head, swindled you out of a fortune, robbed your sweetheart from beneath your nose. Now, they probably just pushed in front of you in the queue for a wankerccino.”
Pussy has always been a strange word to use for a weak person. Vaginas are built to take a pounding, and then deliver a human being. This point was not made in this otherwise erudite consideration. Cunt…. used in England much like asshole in America… gets into play here. “Cunt, or be cunted” is a splendid expression, even if the meaning, and application, are a bit fuzzy.
RISK is a story telling show, usually with 3-4 tellers. The first performer in today’s show is Donna Edwards. Her father said she was a late bloomer. She thought this meant her penis would arrive soon. One day at school, her first period came. Fortunately, her church happy grandmother told her the truth about being a woman.
Dave Kendall is the second storyteller. He was burned badly as a child, and had a long stay in the hospital. Eventually, he got to go home, and was sort of normal. The third story has a lot of comments. It must be controversial. PG thinks it best to listen first, and then see what other people want him to think. Thinking for yourself can be a luxury.
Randall Robinson was the counselor in a church camp. There was a young girl, with a troubled past, named Elisabeth. There was a volunteer, nicknamed the white witch, who did not get along with African American Elisabeth. One night, there was a foot washing. Elisabeth asked to help, which children did not usually do. One set of feet, that Elisabeth washed, belonged to the white witch.
Some of the commenters were disturbed by the apparent racism of ww. Mr. Robinson wrote a lengthy clarification, where he talked about some of the subtle issues involved. There are usually details that cannot be included in a spoken word story. Some of these details have an impact on the story. If you have the time, listen to the story, starting at 42 minutes. The comments are in the linked page. It is best to listen to the story first.
You take your own memories into a story like this. Many people who know PG probably know what is next. There was an African American co-worker, who alienated PG from Jesus. After a while, PG sincerely believed that Jesus hates him. Fast forward to the story about Elisabeth. A part of the foot washing is to say Jesus loves you. This cliche is a staple of Jesus worship, and PG has come to see it as a lie. Jesus hates him. To have a young black girl, wash the feet of her white tormentor, and say Jesus loves you…. Everyone hears with a different set of ears.
Curmudgeon Day
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This is the second attempt to keep a journal. The first time was friday. At some point, PG saw some dust on an electrical outlet, and tried to brush it off. In so doing, PG turned the switch off. The notes, up to that point, had not been saved, and were lost. Jesus never loses any of his data, because #Jesussaves. (spell check suggestion: suaveness)
The poem today is based on 6 Famous Literary Quotes Everyone Uses Exactly Wrong. These six lines are from famous literature, mostly Shakespeare. The fact that PG has been on a Shakespeare insult binge lately should be of no concern to anyone. The wisdom has been made to fit in 31 character lines. The poem will not be an accurate reproduction.
The first step is to determine the size of the letters. You take the longest line of text, and paste it into the text composition file. You increase the size of the letters. When the letters are as big as they can be, without spilling over into the next line, that is the size of your letters. Today, the font is candara, the size is 44. The inside color is 192 gray, while the border is 96 green. You write this down in your text file, in case you forget later. For more information on text creation, see this tutorial.
Background pictures are mannequins from Perimeter Mall. These plastic people are easy to photograph, if you can just get past the attitude. The images will be jazzed up, so that mama mannequin won’t be embarrassed by her daughter.
Now that the font, size, color, and backgrounds are known. The rest of the process is mechanical. Create the text. Fit the text to the pictures. Save (or export) the final product. At this stage, your enemy is distractions. In an ideal world, you would stay off facebook and twitter, not go to the bathroom, and not take any phone calls. We will see how this goes.
Before the first text file is created, PG goes to twitter. There is a post from @bitchywaiter, flogging a blog post How To Enjoy Being in a Party of 25. He could have summed it up in one word :don’t. The one word option also applies to the decision to read the post.
The downloads folder has a sub folder for podcasts. Typically, PG downloads every episode of a handful of shows, and selected episodes of other shows that catch his eye. These tend to pile up, only to vanish in a fit of binge listening. Maybe today is a good day for fiction. There is “A Visit”… “Richard Powers joins Deborah Treisman to read and discuss Steven Millhauser’s “A Visit,” from a 1997 issue of the magazine.” The New Yorker just has a way with words. Fiction podcasts are hit or miss. The batting average is about .300, which is good for baseball, and so so for podcasts.
A few minutes later, the text files have been finished. It is time to check them. Open up every one, and see that it matches the text for that line. To do this, the podcast has been turned off. The story is about a man, going to visit his one time best friend. It seems like an appealing tale, which means PG will finish listening to it.
When PG stopped, he could not resist the temptation to look at facebook. There was a “sponsored” post from Cracked.com. It was the seminal article, 6 Famous Literary Quotes Everyone Uses Exactly Wrong. At one time, Cracked was a cheap imitation of MAD magazine. It has evolved into a clickbait farm. The facebook comeon: “Do you hear that sound? It’s the screams of millions of hipsters as they race for tattoo removal.”
When the text files were checked, there was a mistake. File03 was a duplicate of file02, instead of the text from line03. This is why the files are checked. While correcting this error, another file will be changed. Instead of saying and never the twain will meet, it will read and never mark twain will meet.
Two of the six pictures are finished. The coffee has run out, and will replaced by either tea or water. The story has taken a turn. The old friend is living in a shack. He is married to a frog. They are about to drink wine, out of glasses with Winnie the Pooh characters painted on the side.
Soon the story is over. The man leaves the house after one night, realizing he will never see his friend again. There were no graphic accounts of man/frog intercourse. The moving lips are going to discuss the story, and PG is not going to listen.
January 29 is #curmudgeonsday. Is saying happy #curmudgeonsday appropriate? It is the sunday before the super bowl, and the reality of winter is tough to escape. Maybe PG should finish the poem, and quit looking at twitter.
Dylan Marron
Once upon a time, videos from Seriously.TV began to appear on facebook. It is not known if Mr. Zuckerberg was paid to promote these videos. One of the more annoying presentations was “Shutting Down Bullsh*t” with Dylan Marron. SDB was annoying Social Justice Jihad, with more logical fallacies than a Bill O’Reilly cocktail hour. Mr. Marron is especially obnoxious. Before long, PG chose to *Hide* SDB, and Dylan Marron.
“Being called out publicly when you think you’re “woke” sucks. But it’s helpful, too.” DM made a video, Shutting Down Bulls!*t about Autism. Some people were not happy with the performance,
“In a recent episode of ‘Shutting Down Bullsh*t’ I sat down with my friend Avery to dispel myths about autism. I also included an interview with his father to help illuminate more about autism from the parent’s perspective. I had no idea that allistic (non-autistic) parents speaking over their children is a harmful trope in the representation of autism. I should have taken the time to know that. That’s on me. … This was particularly tough for me to come to terms with as someone who has been so aware of the silencing that has gone on in my own communities; the centering of cis white masc-presenting men in LGBT representation, the favoring of light skin and Eurocentric features in Latinx culture… the list, sadly, goes on.”
Shutting Down Bullsh*t about Autism 2 followed. Mr. Marron made a comment about “people with autism” and was told, by one of a panel, that she was an autistic person. (Does this person presume to speak for all autistic people?) There are other cringe worthy moments. Is Mr. Marron woke now, or did they just hit the snooze button?
After seeing all this, PG decided to tweet a message to @dylanmarron. PG had never clicked on the DM twitter account, much less left a message. “You are blocked from following @dylanmarron and viewing @dylanmarron’s Tweets.” Pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Thou Art That
It started out as joke comments. Thank G-d for secular humanism. ~ You’re welcome. PG got to thinking, and wondered what the punch line was. Is there a difference between G-d and man?
Zen and the art of motorcycle repair says that the division of G-d and man, subject and object, is the dirty work of Aristotle. PG is not philosophically grounded enough to know, but suspects that unity is better than division. Is the earth a unified whole, “thou art that”?
Now, the truth just might be that G-d is separate from man. While unity may sound appealing, it might not be the way things operate. Just because a belief makes you happy does not mean that it is true. Let no man bring together what G-d has rent asunder.
If there is a division between G-d and man, then where does the boundary lie?
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
This is a repost. Is it art?
60 Dumb Quotes
This repost was originally published January 08, 2012. At that time, no one could have forseen the prophecy of quote number four. The idea that Donald Trump’s (seldom mentioned) first wife could have said “Fiction writing is great. You can make up almost anything” was marginally noteworthy in 2012. There is a saying, life is bad fiction. President Donald J.Trump is an example.
Smoking kills. If you’re killed, you’ve lost a very important part of your life. – Brooke Shields
If we don’t succeed, we run the risk of failure. – Dan Quayle
So, where’s the Cannes Film Festival being held this year? — Christina Aguilera
Fiction writing is great. You can make up almost anything. – Ivana Trump
I’m convinced the Beatles are partly responsible for the fall of Communism. – Milos Forman .
When I’m a blonde, I can say the world is purple, and they’ll believe me because they weren’t listening to me. – Kylie Bax, Model/Actress.
The internet is a great way to get on the net. – Bob Dole
You guys, line up alphabetically by height. – Bill Peterson, football coach
I get to go to lots of overseas places, like Canada. – Britney Spears
I think war is a dangerous place. – George W. Bush
I owe a lot to my parents, especially my mother and father. – Greg Norman, Golfer
It’s nice, it gives you a feeling of security so that if something breaks we know we can always call a guy over and he’ll bring a drill or something. – Brooke Shields
Rotarians, be patriotic! Learn to shoot yourself. – Gyrator, Chicago Rotary Club journal
These people haven’t seen the last of my face. If I go down, I’m going down standing up.
Chuck Person, NBA Basketball player
I’m so smart now. Everyone’s always like ‘take your top off’. Sorry, NO! They always want to get that money shot. I’m not stupid. – Paris Hilton
I think gay marriage is something that should be between a man and a woman
Arnold Schwarzenegger
Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can’t help but cry. I mean I’d love to be skinny like that but not with all those flies and death and stuff. – Mariah Carey
Predictions are difficult. Especially about the future. – Yogi Berra
My sister’s expecting a baby, and I don’t know if I’m going to be an uncle or an aunt.
Chuck Nevitt, basketball player
The Holocaust was an obscene period in our nation’s history. I mean in this century’s history. But we all lived in this century. I didn’t live in this century. – Dan Quayle
And now the sequence of events in no particular order. – Dan Rather
Natural gas is hemispheric. I like to call it hemispheric in nature because it is a product that we can find in our neighborhoods. – George W Bush
The doctors X-rayed my head and found nothing. – Dizzy Dean
I was in a no-win situation, so I’m glad that I won rather than lost. – Frank Bruno, Boxer
I have opinions of my own –strong opinions– but I don’t always agree with them. – George Bush
I want to rush for 1,000 or 1,500 yards, whichever comes first. –
George Rogers, NFL RB
I do not like this word “bomb.” It is not a bomb. It is a device that is exploding.
Jacques le Blanc, French ambassador
The word ‘genius’ isn’t applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein. – Joe Theisman
Half this game is ninety percent mental. – Danny Ozark, Philadelphia Phillies manager
Be sure and put some of those neutrons on it.
Mike Smith, Baseball pitcher, ordering a salad at a restaurant.
If I sold all my liabilities, I wouldn’t own anything. My wife’s a liability, my kids are liabilities, and I haven’t sold them. – Ted Turner
They misunderestimated me. – George W Bush
I don’t diet. I just don’t eat as much as I’d like to. – Linda Evangelista, Supermodel
Facts are stupid things. – Ronald Reagan
What a waste it is to lose one’s mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is.
Dan Quayle
That’s just the tip of the ice cube. – Neil Hamilton, BBC2
A bachelor’s life is no life for a single man. – Samuel Goldwyn
I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid. – Terry Bradshaw, Former football player/announcer
It isn’t pollution that is hurting the environment, it’s the impurities in our air and water that are doing it. – Dan Quayle
I’ve never had major knee surgery on any other part of my body. –
Winston Bennett, University of Kentucky basketball forward.
The only happy artist is a dead artist, because only then you can’t change. After I die, I’ll probably come back as a paintbrush. – Sylvestor Stallone
Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country.
Mayor Marion Barry, Washington, DC
We are not ready for an unforeseen event that may or may not occur. – Dan Quayle
Will the highways on the internet become more few? – George W Bush
Traditionally, most of Australia’s imports come from overseas.
Keppel Enderbery, Former Australian cabinet minister
There is certainly more in the future now than back in 1964. – Roger Daltrey
We’re going to turn this team around 360 degrees. – Jason Kidd
I’ve never really wanted to go to Japan. Simply because I don’t like eating fish. And I know that’s very popular out there in Africa. — Britney Spears
Pitching is 80% of the game. The other half is hitting and fielding. – Mickey Rivers, baseball player
I love California, I practically grew up in Phoenix. – Dan Quayle
Put the ‘off’ button on. – George W. Bush
So Carol, you’re a housewife and mother. And have you got any children? -Michael Barrymore
Food is an important part of a balanced diet. – Fran Lebowitz, US writer
We’ve got to pause and ask ourselves: How much clean air do we need? – Lee Iacocca
For NASA, space is still a high priority. – Dan Quayle
He’s a guy who gets up at six o’clock in the morning regardless of what time it is.
Lou Duva, veteran boxing trainer
If it weren’t for electricity we’d all be watching television by candlelight. – George Gobel
If only faces could talk… – Pat Summerall
Every minute was more exciting than the next. – Linda Evans, actress
I’m not anorexic. I’m from Texas. Are there people from Texas that are anorexic? I’ve never heard of one. And that includes me. — Jessica Simpson
DISCLAIMER: The accuracy, legitimacy, and context, of these quotes is not known. They have not been verified. Quotes were originally published by 2Spare , a digital facility that advertises “Endless entertainment to spare”. PG does not know where 2Spare got this content. Even though most of the quotes originated in English, the possibility of translation errors exists. The original title was “60 Dumbest Celebrity Quotes”. The use of the superlative is questionable, as is the celebrity status of Dan Quayle. Pictures for this waste of bandwidth are from The Library of Congress .
The Man Who Would Not Shut Up
Java Monkey Speaks finished with a bit of snark last night. The poet, “Gabriel,” had been sitting next to a loudmouth. Worse, the loudmouth was hitting on a lady. The loudmouth was boasting about how enlightened he was, by talking over poets. The fact that it was a warm evening, and the patio was open, made it worse.
“Gabriel” did not get to hear the performers. He was not pleased, and did what poets do. He wrote about the man who would not shut up.
Performance … on stage, or in the audience … is a tiny percentage of the JMS experience. Most of your time is spent listening to other performers. When one person speaks, the other people listen. Many of the poets are terrific, and if you don’t listen, you miss out. We don’t need to talk more. We need to listen more. This is true for the rest of the world.
One problem is that listening is seen as passive, while speech is active. Our culture values action. Even if you make the situation worse by speaking, many people cannot keep their mouth shut. The patio romeo did not seem to get this. The fact that there is a room next door, designed for conversation, did not seem to occur to this man.
Last summer, PG went to JMS. It was the sunday after Philando Castile, and Alton Sterling, died. PG had a conversation with “Gabriel” after this evening. “One of the other white men felt the same way. He opened his poem by saying that it was not his struggle, and it was not appropriate for him to speak. (Those were not the exact words.) PG spoke to him at intermission. He said to think about this… what if you were a black person, coming to read on a night with much black pain. You looked in the audience, and there were no white people to listen?”
Read your smutty poem is one result of that evening. java monkey speaks black white mix, americas bad week two black men, shot dead by police best thing for , white man to do is be there listen, not your struggle not appropriate, read your smutty poem shut up.
One issue is the limited amount of time available for speakers. JMS has an 11 pm curfew. Towards the end of the evening, performers should go up, read their piece, and sit down. When you are on stage, you are not aware of how long you are up there. PG was a couple of spots before “Gabriel,” and was wondering if he would get to perform. “Gabriel” wrote his poem in anger, after the patio performance. The poem will be better with editing.
At the end of the night, things seemed to work out. PG and “Gabriel” got to speak before 11pm. There will be other times where not everyone will get to speak, because someone else did not know how to listen. (And not just at Java Monkey.) The white savior complex is alive, well, and annoying. It is not known whether the patio dude impressed the lady. Pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Treatment Of Coulorphobia
A word of the year short lister is coulrophobia, the fear of clowns. While searching for the pronunciation, google suggested “coulrophobia treatment.” There was a video, Lady is scared to death of Clowns, and numerous websites willing to help. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
Healthtopia suggests “Exposure therapy with Relaxation methods… Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT).” Ehealthwall states “Statistics shows that one out of seven persons has Coulrophobia or has a fear of clowns.” Their suggestion is “Gradual Exposure Therapy, Relaxation therapy, Free association therapy. Persons who have been dealing with Coulrophobia are suggested to consult a psychotherapist and recommended to undergo session that they call as free association therapy.”
Alive and Well Online: “Hypnotherapy Hypnotherapy helps to reprogram your subconscious “programs” that may be part of your fear. When these programs are “de-bugged” the symptoms of Coulrophobia often are minimized. However, some people don’t like the feeling of loss of control in allowing someone else to play with their personal “software”. Hypnotherapy is save and works fast. … Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) NLP is basically the study and practice of how we create our reality. From the NLP viewpoint, a phobia is the result of your programs or “constructs” that you have created that don’t work very well. With NLP, these constructs are revealed and “re-programmed” so that the Coulrophobia is minimized and often eliminated. Usually the interventions are quite rapid and effective.” There is a helpful disclaimer.
NoBullying.com takes an aggressive approach. “In order to prevent an episode that ends with you totally embarrassing yourself if you should happen to see a clown while in a public place, here are some tips that might help. Close your eyes and take long, deep breaths. Imagine that you are sitting on a relaxing beach where no clowns are present. Remind yourself that the clown that triggered your episode is not real and is only a ploy to scare—or entertain people. … Applaud yourself if you were able to successfully avert a full-fledged attack. “
Why The Time Is Always 10:09:36
PG notices details, sometimes. One thing is the time on clocks and watches in ads. The time is 10:09:36. Sometimes, it is 01:51:25. There are occasional exceptions, but 10:09:36 seems to be an industry standard. This is a repost. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
It focuses attention on the top part of the watch, and makes the bottom part visible. Typically, the logo of the manufacturer is framed by the hands. The manufacturer wants the logo to be visible in the ads.
The hands lifted upward make a welcoming gesture. If you hold your arms out at the 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock positions, it will look like you are about to hug someone. This shape also looks like a smile.
After this, we get into the myths. At this particular time (10:09:36) US deployed the atom bomb on Japan. This particular time is used to remind people of the US dominance. A bit of research into pre atom bomb advertising might disprove that, but PG thinks that is too much work.
Another hypothesis is that Abraham Lincoln was shot at 10:15 pm on April 14, 1865, and died at 7:22 the next day. How this translates into 10:09:36 is anyone’s guess. However, standard time was not used in the United States until 1883. The precise “time” of Mr. Lincolns retirement is not known.
Someone wrote the Timex company about this issue.
A: WE CALLED TIMEX FOR YOUR ANSWER AND IT SAYS THE HANDS ON A CLOCK ARE PLACED AT TEN-TEN BECAUSE IT’S A CREATIVE STANDARD INDUSTRY. TIMEX SAYS THE HANDS ON TIMEPIECES ARE PLACED AT TEN-TEN SO THE COMPANY LOGO ON THE FACE WILL BE FRAMED AND NOT BLOCKED BY THE HANDS.
TIMEX SAYS THE INDUSTRY STANDARD USED TO BE EIGHT-TWENTY BUT THAT LOOKED TOO MUCH LIKE A FROWN AND CREATED AN UNHAPPY LOOK. TIMEX SAYS IN ITS ADS, THE CLOCK HANDS ARE PLACED AT TEN-NINE AND THIRTY SIX SECONDS, EXACTLY.”
Another source discusses this issue when the “creative standard industry” was 8:20. At that time people still said it was the time that Abe Lincoln was shot and or died.
Yet another source, the poetically named stupidquestion.net, has a few more tidbits. It seems like in the 1880’s, pocket watches became popular. In ads, the case was shown more than the face. The omega watchmaker established the 10:08:35 standard in 1915, and the industry followed suit. This would also seem to contradict the atom bomb theory given above.
PG has always wondered something else. Are all photographs for watch ads shot at 10:09:36? If not, then the ads are a lie. According to StupidQuestions, watchmakers send out non functioning dummy watches that are frozen at a certain time. PG (who does not wear a watch, but uses wall clocks) says this makes him question the honesty of the ad.
#50HappyThings
Rosie O”Donnell says Donald Trump is mentally unstable, kitchen timer, david bowie product
scrap paper, paper towel texture, planned obsolescence, floral designs printed on napkins
a pause button that works, spray on sunscreen, deviation from the norm, mannequin authority
spell check suggestions, rainy days and mondays, age stats location, google it, public domain
ninety seconds of stage time in exchange for two and a half hours of listening
science fiction cliche embargo, redneck privilege, leaving tv set off
walt whitman in bondage gear, hilllary clinton’s real hair color, the impossible nightmare
insulting republicans, avoiding cobb county, laughing at preachers, shit piss and corruption
conspiracy hypothesis, dick hater georgia, the big chicken, joan crawford’s complexion
keeping the kkk out of the linen closet, mandatory celebrity inquisition
autobiography, not saying the n-word, dental vicosity, donald trump’s communist hairdo
diagnostic punctuation, constipational entanglement, albanian exceptionalism
chihuahua hypocrisy, k mart nostalgia, lackawanna sex institute, social performance anxiety
cruella deville microaggressiopn, only seeing rocky horror show remake one time,
first lady melania trump, retroactive birth control, celebrities that like my tweets
blog challenges, The Library of Congress pictures, all things are possible in a world without g-d
people who add their own list of #50happythings to the blog hop before January 3, 2017
She Is Nursing The Baby Jesus
The story below was found at the website of James Petras . HT to palestinianpundit. Pictures are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
The settlements were still being built, financed mostly by Jewish money from America, contributions from Wall Street speculators and owners of gambling dens. “Good thing”, Joseph thought, “we have a few sheep and olive trees and Mary keeps some chickens. But Joseph worried, “cheese and olives are not enough to feed a growing boy. Mary is due to deliver our son any day”. His dreams foretold of a sturdy son working alongside of him…multiplying loaves and fish.
The settlers looked down on Joseph. He rarely attended shul, and on the high holidays, he would show up late to avoid the tithe. Their simple cottage was located in a nearby ravine with water from a stream, which flowed year round. It was choice real estate for any settlement expansion. So when Joseph fell behind on his property tax, the settlers took over their home, forcibly evicted Joseph and Mary and offered them a one-way bus ticket to Jerusalem. Joseph, born and raised in the arid hills, fought back and bloodied not a few settlers with his labor-hardened fists. But in the end he sat, battered on their bridal bed under the olive tree, in black despair. Mary, much the younger, felt the baby’s movements. Her time was near. “We have to find shelter, Joseph, we have to move on …this is no time for revenge”, she pleaded. Joseph, who believed with the Old Testament prophets in an “eye for an eye”, reluctantly agreed. So it was that Joseph sold their sheep, chickens and other belongings to an Arab neighbor and bought a donkey and cart. He loaded up the mattress, some clothes, cheese, olives and eggs and they set out for the Holy City.
The donkey path was rocky and full of potholes. Mary winced at every bump; she worried that it would harm the baby. Worse, this was the road for the Palestinians with military checkpoints everywhere. No one ever told Joseph that, as a Jew, he could have taken a smooth paved road – forbidden to the Arabs. At the first roadblock Joseph saw a long line of Arabs waiting. Pointing to his very pregnant wife, Joseph asked the Palestinians, half in Arabic, half in Hebrew, if they could go ahead. A path was opened and the couple went forward. A young soldier raised his rifle and told Mary and Joseph to get down from the cart. Joseph descended and nodded to his wife’s stomach. The soldier smirked and turned to his comrades, “The old Arab knocks up the girl he bought for a dozen sheep and now he wants a free pass”. Joseph, red with anger, shouted in rough Hebrew, “I am a Jew. But unlike you … I respect pregnant women”. The soldier poked Joseph with his rifle and ordered him to step back: “You are worse than an Arab – you’re an old Jew who screws Arab girls”. Mary frightened by the exchange turned to her husband and cried, “Stop Joseph or he will shoot you and our baby will be born an orphan”.
With great difficulty, Mary got down from the wagon. An officer came out of the guard station, summoning a female soldier, “Hey Judi, go feel under her dress, she might be carrying bombs” “What’s the matter? Don’t you like to feel them yourself anymore? ” Judith barked back in Brooklyn-accented Hebrew. While the soldiers argued, Mary leaned on Joseph for support. Finally, the soldiers came to an agreement. “Pull-up your dress and slip”, Judith ordered. Mary blanched in shame. Joseph faced the gun in disgrace. The soldiers laughed and pointed at Mary’s swollen breasts, joking about an unborn terrorist with Arab hands and a Jewish brain.
Joseph and Mary continued on the way to the Holy City. They were frequently detained at the checkpoints along the way. Each time they suffered another delay, another indignity and more gratuitous insults spouted by Sephardim and Ashkenazi, male and female, secular and religious – all soldiers of the Chosen people. It was dusk when Mary and Joseph finally reached the Wall. The gates had closed for the night. Mary cried out in pain, “Joseph, I can feel the baby coming soon. Please do something quickly”. Joseph panicked. He saw the lights of a small village nearby and, leaving Mary on the cart, Joseph ran to the nearest house and pounded on the door. A Palestinian woman opened the door slightly and peered into the dark, agitated face of Joseph. “Who are you? What do you want?” “I am Joseph, a carpenter from the hills of Hebron. My wife is about to give birth and I need shelter to protect Mary and the baby”. Pointing to Mary on the donkey cart, Joseph pleaded in his strange mixture of Hebrew and Arabic.
“Well, you speak like a Jew but you look like an Arab,” the Palestinian woman said laughing as she walked back with him to the cart. Mary’s face was contorted with pain and fear: her contractions were more frequent and intense. The woman ordered Joseph to bring the cart around to a stable where the sheep and chickens were kept. As soon as they entered, Mary cried out in pain and the Palestinian woman, who had now been joined by a neighbor midwife, swiftly helped the young mother down onto a bed of straw. And thus the child was born, as Joseph watched in awe.
It came to pass that shepherds, returning from their fields, heard the mingled cries of birth and joy and hurried to the stable carrying both their rifles and fresh goat milk, not knowing whether it was friend or foe, Jew or Arab. When they entered the stable and beheld the mother and infant, they put aside their weapons and offered the milk to Mary who thanked them in both Hebrew and Arabic. And the shepherds were amazed and wondered: Who were these strange people, a poor Jewish couple, who came in peace on a donkey cart inscribed with Arabic letters?
The news quickly spread about the strange birth of a Jewish child just outside the Wall in a Palestinian’s stable. Many neighbors entered and beheld Mary, the infant and Joseph. Meanwhile, Israeli soldiers, equipped with night vision goggles, reported from their watchtowers overlooking the Palestinian neighborhood, “The Arabs are meeting just outside the Wall, in a stable, by candle light”. The gates under the watchtowers flew open and armored carriers with bright lights followed by heavily armed solders drove out and surrounded the stable, the assembled villagers and the Palestinian woman’s house. A loud speaker blared, “Come out with your hands up or we’ll shoot.” Joseph stepped forward with his hands stretched out to the sky and spoke, “My wife, Mary cannot comply with your order. She is nursing the baby Jesus”
Fruitcake
Today is National Fruitcake Day PG sees a chance for some text to put between pictures. He would be nutty as a fruitcake to turn down this chance. This is a repost. Part two of this recycled holiday blog party is a tribute to The Fruitcake Lady.
Fruitcakes were buried with the dead in Ancient Egypt. It’s true. Ancient Egyptians used to fill the tombs of the dead with all the supplies that they would need to enjoy the afterlife, including food and water. Fruitcake was often put into the tomb of a deceased person because a fruitcake soaked in a natural preservative like alcohol or fruit juice would last a long time. It was thought that the preserved fruitcake would not spoil on the journey to the afterlife. Fruitcake was a staple food of other ancient Middle Eastern, Southeast Asian and Mediterranean cultures as well
Candied fruits are used in fruitcake because using sugar was the only way to preserve the fruit long enough to get it back to Europe from the Middle East. When the Crusaders began carrying exotic fruits back to their European home the fresh fruit would spoil long before they were able to get it home. Ingenious traders began drying the fruits by candying them with sugar which made them an even more delicious treat and preserved them indefinitely. Once the candied fruits were sent to Europe and to other parts of the world they were baked into cakes so that they could be shared with family and friends on special occasions.
Fruitcakes will last for years without spoiling. It’s true. A fruitcake that is properly preserved with an alcohol soaked cheesecloth that is then wrapped in plastic wrap or foil can be kept unrefrigerated for years without spoiling. In the past, before refrigerators came along, families would make fruitcake for holidays and special occasions months in advance of the actual event and then let the covered fruitcakes sit wrapped in an alcohol soaked cloth until the event happened. As long as the cloth was remoistened with alcohol occasionally the cakes not only didn’t spoil, they actually tasted richer and sweeter because they had been soaking in brandy and rum for a couple of months.
To millions of fruitcake consumers, the town of Claxton GA is very special. This south Georgia town, just down the road from Reidsville, is home to Claxton Fruit Cake . The story of the Claxton Fruit Cake company is a sweet one. Savino Tos founded the Claxton Bakery in 1910. He hired Albert Parker in 1927, and sold him the business in 1945. Mr. Parker decided to sell Fruit Cake to America.
No story about fruitcake is complete without mentioning the “Fruitcake Lady”. Marie Rudisill , an aunt of Truman Capote, wrote a book of fruitcake recipes. She became a tv celebrity, before going to the bakery in the sky November 3, 2006.
The urban dictionary has nine listings for fruit cake. The ones for homosexuals and crazy people are there. UD gets creative with this selection: “The act of releasing green chunky diarrhea onto your partners face then, ejaculating on it, then punching him/her in the nose causing the colors to mix together to form a fruit cake like color.”
If you tire of jokes about fruitcake, you can go to The society for the protection and preservation of fruitcake . (If you click on the “new URL”, you will be invited to join in the green card lottery.) There used to be a link on the society page that enables you to buy Fruitcake Mints. “Keep your breath fruitcake fresh with these festive mints!”
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
There was a political comment on facebook. The last sentence was “No wonder Georgia turned Republican after the Clintons sold poor people out.” The person making this comment was born in 1980, the same year Georgia elected a Republican to the US Senate. This person also was born and raised in Florida. PG thought of a smart comeback. This is a repost.
There was a famous video by the Fruitcake Lady. In the first part, a young lady asks who to vote for in an upcoming election. FL makes a face, and said “you’re gonna ask someone who lives in FLORIDA how to vote?” This is along the lines of a Floridian transplant explaining the Republicanization of Georgia. Unfortunately, the video with the Fruitcake Lady had been taken down for copyright infringement. The spell check suggestions for Republicanization: Recapitalization, Cannibalization.
PG wasn’t really doing anything, and was in the mood for a google wild goose chase. This led to an amazing article, Sweet as Sugar, Rude as Hell, My Lost Interview with Truman Capote’s Aunt. A writer for the fishwrapper went to a mobile home in Hudson, FL. He talked to Marie Rudisill, who was best known as Truman Capote’s “Aunt Tiny.” The meeting took place in 1997, and was not what the writer expected. A family friendly version of the meeting was published The journalist received a slice of fruitcake in the mail. Everyone concerned went on with their lives.
Marie Rudisill died November 3, 2006, after becoming famous as the Fruitcake Lady. As for the journalist: “When I left The Atlanta Journal-Constitution in 2009, I stashed 27 years of old newspapers, tapes and ephemera in my garage. Nothing is more depressing to me than those boxes of old newspapers. It’s my own private morgue — replete with the sickening scent of dust and roach pills…. When I finally mustered the courage to dig around, I found the Lewis interviews — as well as a cache of other recordings. Three of the tapes had Rudisill’s name scribbled on them. I was not quite ready to listen, though. I put them in a box and labeled it.”
In 1924, Truman Streckfus Persons was born in New Orleans LA. His mother, Lillie Mae (Aunt Tiny’s older sister) left her husband behind, and took the boy to Monroeville AL. They lived in a wild household. A neighbor was Harper Lee, who wrote “To Kill A Mockingbird.” Miss Lee was a close friend, as was Sook. This is Truman’s cousin, the fruitcake chef herone of “A Christmas Memory.”
After a while, Lillie Mae married Joe Capote, who adopted the boy. They moved to New York, where Aunt Tiny joined them. Truman was sent to military school. Everyone, except Lillie Mae, thought this was a terrible idea. The effort to butch up young Truman did not work.
Aunt Tiny wrote a book, Truman Capote: The Story of His Bizarre and Exotic Boyhood by an Aunt Who Helped Raise Him. It was published in 1983, a year before Truman died. “The book scandalized Monroeville — and Capote. He told The Washington Post: “If there are 20 words of truth in it, I will go up on a cross to save humanity.” Said Harper Lee: “I have never seen so many misstatements of fact per sentence as in that book.”
There is one story that sticks out…. “Rudisill breaks down just once during our interview. It’s when she recalls “the first time Truman ever had a sexual encounter with a priest.” She was living in Greenwich Village, having followed Lillie Mae and Truman to New York. “He was sitting on my doorstep when I came home from work, and he had blood all in his pants, and then he told me about this priest. And nobody, I don’t think anybody in the world ever knew that but me.”
There is more to the story. If you have the time, you might enjoy reading the full article. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
Chamblee54 
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