Apatheism
This is a repost from 2015. There is a tasteful feature today, Former homeschooler on the Duggar family’s horrifying fundamentalist “education”: “It’s literal rape culture”. It is about what you would expect. A young man was raised by well meaning parents. They home schooled him using bizarre materials. The young man grew up, and did not agree with his parent’s religion.
“I call myself an “apatheist.” I just don’t care anymore. When it comes down to it, I guess I’m pretty much agnostic. I don’t think that anyone could really know the truth and I don’t care to really find the truth. Going to church for me is still traumatic. I just have a very visceral triggered reaction to everyone singing the same song. I always find myself criticizing and critiquing the sermon, but it’s weird because I won’t only criticize it from a fundamentalist point of view — “Oh this guy is totally not doing his Bible right” — but I also criticize it from a secular point of view — “This is all horseshit.”
This may be tough for some believers to understand, but not everyone is obsessed with God. Maybe she exists. Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe the world would be a happier place without God. It is entirely possible to live without a firm answer one way or the other. Many say that your opinions/beliefs have nothing to do with what happens to you when you die.
Many people have bad experiences with religion. Some see this trauma as an invitation to abuse the non believer more. Maybe, if you hear the scheme for life after death ten thousand and one times, the last recital is going to do the trick.
What many believers do not comprehend is that not everyone gets off on talking about life-after-death. Church has devolved into a high pressure sales meeting for a life-after-death scheme. If you don’t agree with this concept, then there is no point to Jesus. Some Christians think that their ideas about life-after-death justify the emotional abuse they heap on others.
The young man is the article talks of a homeschool survivor community. (The article links to an inactive blog.) If this can help him with his trauma, then good for him. Many people who have been abused by Jesus worshipers… and, by extension, by Jesus… do not have this community to fall back on. The struggle with Jesus abuse can be a lonely one.
Pictures from The Library of Congress. All things are possible in a world without God.
Why We Call Football Soccer
The world cup is scheduled for 2022. It is by far the largest sporting event in the world. And, despite what you hear in this country, they play football (futbol), not soccer.
In the 19th century, the english wrote the rules for something called association football. This was different from rugby football. Somehow, soccer, a nickname for association, became the name of this new sport. When the pastime spread from the upper crust schools to the working class, it became known as football. It made sense, being a sport where you kick the ball with your feet.
In the USA, there was another sport called football. It involves beer and steroids. The ball only gets kicked when it is time for a commercial. For some reason, when association football became popular here, the name soccer stuck.
PG thinks soccer is a terrible word, for a pretty good sport. All those guttural noises sound bad in the mouth, like something is caught in your throat. Maybe, if the sport had another name north of the Rio Grande, it would be more popular.
A young man named Jordan Griner was the designated driver June 19, 2010. After dropping the last passenger off, he was crossing West Peachtree Street at 17th. A lady was driving north on West Peachtree, ran a red light, and smashed into Mr. Griner. . The lady had a blood alcohol content of .229, well above the legal limit of .08. The lady is in a world of trouble, and the man is dead. Mr. Griner worked in the Governor’s office, so the case got some attention.
There is a lot of talk about drinking and driving, as there should be. People should not drive when they are intoxicated. As long as alcohol and automobiles are used, this is going to be a problem.
When you enter an intersection, you should look to see who is coming. If you see a car driving too fast, heading in your direction, wait for it to go through. Especially in midtown Atlanta, at 4 am Saturday.
There used to be a yellow brick apartment building at 17th and West Peachtree. This was the residence of Margaret Mitchell (Mrs. John Marsh). One afternoon, Mrs. Marsh met a friend at the Atlanta Woman’s Club, on Peachtree Street. After a few cocktails, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh left the Woman’s Club, intending to go across the street to a movie. Mrs. Marsh stepped in front of a taxi, and into eternity. Tomorrow is another day.
A developer had plans for the triangle of land between West Peachtree, Peachtree, and 17th. He tore down all the apartment buildings on that block, including the one Margaret Mitchell called home. The deal fell through for the developer, and the corner of 17th and West Peachtree is a vacant lot. The developer should have looked to see what was coming.
This is a double repost. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”, and the chamblee54 collection.
The Last Night Of Judy Garland
“In march of 1969, Judy married her fifth husband, Mickey Devinko, better known as Mickey Deans, a gay night-club promoter. Judy had an unfortunate habit of marrying gay men. They lived together in a tiny mews house in Chelsea, London. The evening of Saturday June 21 1969, Judy and Mickey were watching a documentary, The Royal Family, on television, when they had an argument. Judy ran out the door screaming into the street, waking the neighbors.
Several versions of what happened next exist, but the fact remains that a phone call for Judy woke him at 10:40 the next morning, and she was not sleeping in the bed. He searched for her, only to find the bathroom door locked. After no response, he climbed outside to the bathroom window and entered to find Judy, sitting on the toilet. Rigor Mortis had set in. Judy Garland, 47, was dead.
The press was already aware of the news before the body could be removed. In an effort to prevent pictures being taken of the corpse, she was apparently draped over someone’s arm like a folded coat, covered with a blanket, and removed from the house with the photographers left none the wiser.
The day Judy died there was a tornado in Kansas…. in Saline County,KS, a rather large F3 tornado (injuring 60, but causing no deaths) did hit at 10:40 pm on June 21st, that would be 4:40 am, June 22nd, London time, the morning she died. I know the time of death has never been firmly established, but since Rigor Mortis had already set in, I think this tornado may very much be in the ballpark in terms of coinciding with time of death…. Other news articles suggest the tornado struck Salina “late at night” which could certainly also mean after midnight on June 22, or roughly 6:00 am London time…
The Toledo Blade for June 24th, also in an article located right next to a picture of Garland, in a write-up on the Salina tornado noted that “Late Saturday [June 21] and early Sunday [June 22, another batch of tornadoes struck in central Kansas.” So it seems the legend seems confirmed.”
The text for this story comes from Findadeath. You can spend hours at this site. This is a repost. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.
Author Insults
These author insults were borrowed from flavorwire. HT to Andrew Sullivan The pictures are from The Library of Congress This is a repost.
25. Gertrude Stein on Ezra Pound “A village explainer. Excellent if you were a village, but if you were not, not.”
24. Virginia Woolf on Aldous Huxley “All raw, uncooked, protesting.”
23. H. G. Wells on George Bernard Shaw “An idiot child screaming in a hospital.”
22. Joseph Conrad on D.H. Lawrence “Filth. Nothing but obscenities.”
21. Lord Byron on John Keats (1820) “Here are Johnny Keats’ piss-a-bed poetry, and three novels by God knows whom… No more Keats, I entreat: flay him alive; if some of you don’t I must skin him myself: there is no bearing the drivelling idiotism of the Mankin.”
20. Vladimir Nabokov on Joseph Conrad “I cannot abide Conrad’s souvenir shop style and bottled ships and shell necklaces of romanticist cliches.”
19. Dylan Thomas on Rudyard Kipling “Mr Kipling … stands for everything in this cankered world which I would wish were otherwise.”
18. Ralph Waldo Emerson on Jane Austen “Miss Austen’s novels . . . seem to me vulgar in tone, sterile in artistic invention, imprisoned in the wretched conventions of English society, without genius, wit, or knowledge of the world. Never was life so pinched and narrow. The one problem in the mind of the writer . . . is marriageableness.”
17. Martin Amis on Miguel Cervantes “Reading Don Quixote can be compared to an indefinite visit from your most impossible senior relative, with all his pranks, dirty habits, unstoppable reminiscences, and terrible cronies. When the experience is over, and the old boy checks out at last (on page 846 — the prose wedged tight, with no breaks for dialogue), you will shed tears all right; not tears of relief or regret but tears of pride. You made it, despite all that ‘Don Quixote’ could do.”
16. Charles Baudelaire on Voltaire (1864) “I grow bored in France — and the main reason is that everybody here resembles Voltaire…the king of nincompoops, the prince of the superficial, the anti-artist, the spokesman of janitresses, the Father Gigone of the editors of Siecle.”
15. William Faulkner on Ernest Hemingway “He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.”
14. Ernest Hemingway on William Faulkner “Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?”
13. Gore Vidal on Truman Capote “He’s a full-fledged housewife from Kansas with all the prejudices.”
12. Oscar Wilde on Alexander Pope “There are two ways of disliking poetry; one way is to dislike it, the other is to read Pope.”
11. Vladimir Nabokov on Ernest Hemingway (1972) “As to Hemingway, I read him for the first time in the early ‘forties, something about bells, balls and bulls, and loathed it.”
10. Henry James on Edgar Allan Poe (1876) “An enthusiasm for Poe is the mark of a decidedly primitive stage of reflection.”
09. Truman Capote on Jack Kerouac “That’s not writing, that’s typing.”
08. Elizabeth Bishop on J.D. Salinger “I HATED [Catcher in the Rye]. It took me days to go through it, gingerly, a page at a time, and blushing with embarrassment for him every ridiculous sentence of the way. How can they let him do it?”
07. D.H. Lawrence on Herman Melville (1923) “Nobody can be more clownish, more clumsy and sententiously in bad taste, than Herman Melville, even in a great book like ‘Moby Dick’…. One wearies of the grand serieux. There’s something false about it. And that’s Melville. Oh dear, when the solemn ass brays! brays! brays!”
06. W. H. Auden on Robert Browning “I don’t think Robert Browning was very good in bed. His wife probably didn’t care for him very much. He snored and had fantasies about twelve-year-old girls.”
05. Evelyn Waugh on Marcel Proust (1948) “I am reading Proust for the first time. Very poor stuff. I think he was mentally defective.”
04. Mark Twain on Jane Austen (1898) “I haven’t any right to criticize books, and I don’t do it except when I hate them. I often want to criticize Jane Austen, but her books madden me so that I can’t conceal my frenzy from the reader; and therefore I have to stop every time I begin. Every time I read ‘Pride and Prejudice,’ I want to dig her up and hit her over the skull with her own shin-bone.”
03. Virginia Woolf on James Joyce “the work of a queasy undergraduate scratching his pimples.”
02. William Faulkner on Mark Twain (1922) “A hack writer who would not have been considered fourth rate in Europe, who tricked out a few of the old proven sure fire literary skeletons with sufficient local color to intrigue the superficial and the lazy.”
01. D.H. Lawrence on James Joyce (1928) “My God, what a clumsy olla putrida James Joyce is! Nothing but old fags and cabbage stumps of quotations from the Bible and the rest stewed in the juice of deliberate, journalistic dirty-mindedness.”
Bonus. Mary McCarthy on Lillian Hellman “Every word she writes is a lie, including and and the.”
Bonus two, a comment to the original post.: RomanHans Re “The Cardinal’s Mistress” by Benito Mussolini, Dorothy Parker wrote one of my favorite bon mots: “This is not a book to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.”
Bonus Three, from Flannery O’Connor “I hope you don’t have friends who recommend Ayn Rand to you. The fiction of Ayn Rand is as low as you can get re fiction. I hope you picked it up off the floor of the subway and threw it in the nearest garbage pail. She makes Mickey Spillane look like Dostoevsky.”
My Country Cops
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johnny whitaker ~ watergate ~ einstein ~ einstein ~ steve martin
rfk ~ the grove ~ beltline ~ thats ~ amazon
amazon ~ atlanta flag ~ pics ~ axel kane ~ axel kane
axel kane ~ gephyrophobia ~ gout-diabetes ~ gout ~ police ~ pew
@DannyBate4 “‘Ha ha’ and ‘he he’ signify laughter in Latin and in English, because they are cried out when laughing.” Wonderful evidence here in Ælfric’s Grammar that ‘ha ha’ has been the sound and spelling of laughter in English since at least the 11th century and the Old English period. ~ Where will we find this quote by Plato, “No one is more hated than he who speaks the truth”? ChatGPT: This quote is commonly attributed to Plato, but it’s not found in any of his surviving works. Some scholars believe that it may have been misattributed to him and that it actually comes from a different source. However, the origin of the quote remains uncertain. – Robert Challis University of Adelaide (Graduated 1975) – It is in The Apology, Socrates’ speech in his trial for impiety and corrupting the minds of the youth. How the quote appears depends on translation, but I think this is the source: “This is the truth for you, men of Athens; I am hiding nothing from you either great or small in my speech, nor am I holding anything back. And yet I know rather well that I incur hatred by these very things; which is also a proof that I speak the truth, and that this is the slander against me, and that these are its causes.” ~ @chamblee54 I voted for Marco Rubio in the 2016 GA Primary. Why? The other candidates were Donald, Hillary, Bernie, and Ted. All five sucked. Marco Rubio was the best looking candidate in that election. ~ This is a repost from 2016. America did not elect a Clinton President, but got different results anyway. The apparent source of the DOI quote is a Tennessee newspaper article. “Al-Anon Helps Family, Friends to Orderly Lives The Knoxville News-Sentinel Betsy Pickle, October 11, 1981.” ~ The first person to report the definition of insanity is a Tennessee journalist named Betsy Pickle. ~ “The White House scornfully disclaimed any knowledge of what Press Secretary Ronald L. Ziegler called “a third-rate burglary.” ~ @ggreenwald The main problem is virtually every establishment institution of authority has been caught lying over and over to advance their partisan and ideological agenda, to push their conception of “Common Good.” As a result, few people trust them any longer even when they’re right. ~ @chamblee54 What is the MD process for considering two different viewpoints? That is what Dr. Hotez is trained for. Maybe he should engage RFK jr is that type of discussion, instead of the “debate” that a lawyer would thrive on. You don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. @rottenin ~ flowers on the doorstep will the driver get his pay, glad to not get the delivery flower residue in his vehicle, better flowers on the porch than a horses head on the pillow ~ pictures today are from The Library of Congress ~ selah
Luther C. Mckinnon
Luther Campbell McKinnon Sr. was born February 22, 1916, on a farm in Rowland, North Carolina. Europe was stuck in a war that would change the world, and not until The United States got involved. This didn’t happen for another year.
Luke was the youngest of four children. After life as a farm boy, he went to Wake Forest University, and then came back when his Daddy died. He ran a family dairy for a few years, and went to live in New Jersey. He lived near a prison, and saw the lights dim when the electric chair was used.
In the early fifties, he came to Atlanta to live. This was where his sister Sarah stayed, with her husband and two daughters. One day he went into the C&S bank on 10th street, and took notice of one of the tellers. On October 6, 1951, he married Jean Dunaway. She was with him the rest of his life.
At some point in this era he started selling shoes. He would go to warehouses, gas stations, and wherever barefoot men needed shoes. He was “The Shoe Man” .
Before long there were two boys, and he bought a house, then another. The second house is the current residence of my brother and myself, and is probably worth 15 times what he paid for it. He had the good fortune to not buy in an area that was “blockbusted,’ as many neighborhoods were.
And this was his life. He tended a garden, went to the gym, and was in the Lions Club for many years. When he met Mom, she let him know that going to church with her was part of the deal. They found a church that was good for their needs, and made many friends there. The Pastor at Briarcliff Baptist, Glen Waldrop, was his friend.
When I think of the character of this man, there is one night, which stands out. My brother was away at the time. The day before, Mom had discovered she had a detached retina, and was in the hospital awaiting surgery. Her job had arranged a “leaf tour” by train in North Georgia, and she got one of her friends at work to take me. There was some mechanical trouble on the train, and it did not get back into town until 3am Monday morning. And yet, Daddy stayed at home, did not panic, and had faith that all of us would be back soon, which we were.
Through all the struggles of his life, Dad was cheerful, laughed a lot, and was good company. He left me with a rich repertoire of country sayings, and had many stories to tell. He was surprising mellow about black people, if a bit old fashioned. (In the south when I grew up, this was highly unusual).
Dad was always in good, vigorous health, and I thought he would be with us for a long time. Well, that is not how things work. A cancer developed in his liver, and spread to his lungs (he did not smoke). After a mercifully brief illness, we lost him on February 7, 1992. This is a repost.
Insanity
@RuPaul Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results~Einstein @chamblee54 @RuPaul Everything I have seen on the internet is a lie, but maybe this one is the truth
It is a favorite of English speaking rhetoric mongers. The “definition of insanity” is usually blamed on Albert Einstein. There never seems to be a source, or context. Another possibility is the literature of Alcoholics Anonymous.
DOI is one of those sayings that sound good, until you think about it. Thinking is not a problem for the pontificating masses who trot the phrase out at every opportunity. The fact that Bill and Hillary Clinton quote DOI should tell you something. America is about to elect a Clinton President, and is expecting different results. (See update at end.)
Perhaps the best place to look is the comments. alberto-a-stone: The definition of ignorance is quoting the same thing over and over even though it is not factual. Dollarhide: the definition of insanity is quoting Einstein over and over and expecting to be thought to be clever each time Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
This is a repost from 2016. America did not elect a Clinton President, but got different results anyway. The apparent source of the DOI quote is a Tennessee newspaper article. “Al-Anon Helps Family, Friends to Orderly Lives The Knoxville News-Sentinel Betsy Pickle, October 11, 1981.”
Steve Martin
There is a form letter floating through the intercourse now. It is a letter that Steve Martin used to send to his fans. (The letter was recently immortalized at Letters of Note.)
He …that is Stephen Glenn “Steve” Martin (born August 14, 1945) … has moved up in correspondence with his adoring fans. Mr. Martin now gives out business cards, with the message “This card certifies that the holder had met Steve Martin and found him genuinely friendly”. What a wild and crazy guy!
This is becoming one of those really really modern days here. Listening to a djmix with a Lady Gaga song, drinking coffee out of a Mcdonalds plastic cup, and writing a tribute to Steve Martin. What a day! Oh, before we forget, there is the story about the drive in theater on I85 that was showing “Father of the Bride”. One day, the h fell off the marquee, and the title of the movie became “Fater of the Bride”. Good times.
The story of Steve Martin and PG began one night at the Great Southeast Music Hall. PG got tired of hearing how great the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band was, and decided to see a show. The show started when some guy in a white suit came out with a banjo. John McEuen stood next to him, and kept falling into the microphone stand and saying “this guy cracks me up”.
Steve Martin, the white suit guy, said that he paid somebody five thousand dollars for a joke. He then took this arrow, with a coat hanger wire attached to it, with a shape for his head to fit in, and put it on. That got a laugh, but not worth five thousand dollars. There was another gag…”do you mind if i smoke, no do you mind if i fart”. That got a slightly bigger laugh.
In those days, you could not sell alcohol in public on sunday night in Georgia. To compensate, the Music Hall sold children’s tickets for the sunday night shows. Mr. Martin was not used to having children in the audience. “Hey kid I gotta joke for you. There were these two lesbians…”
The show went over well with the Nitty Gritty crowd. However, it is doubtful that anyone thought, this is the beloved entertainer of our generation.
Mr. Martin was not through for the night. At one point, the NGDB moved to the back of the stage, and a smarmy lounge lizard, in a white suit, came on stage. While the band played “The girl from Ipanema”, Mr. Martin sang about the girl with diarrhea.
This was one of the last shows that Steve Martin did as an opening act. (He did return to the Great Southeast Music Hall. Once, he did a week with Martin Mull, called the Steve Martin Mull Revue.) Within two years, he was a guest host on Saturday Night Live, and a certified wild and crazy guy. A couple of years later, he was famous again as “The Jerk”. Steve Martin had arrived.
This is a repost. The pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. The animated dentures are from chattering teeth. The check is in the mail.
Grace
I was listening to Disgraceland while sitting in the sauna. DGL is a podcast, about musicians who behave badly. Host Jake Brennan is fond of working the word “disgrace” into the last line of the script.
Today’s show was about the late Jeff Buckley. He had a mystical streak in his craft, and titled his album Grace. Jake talks about Jeff’s music, in the last line of the show: “Listening to it now can lead to a trance like state. A state of ecstasy. A state of eternal life. A state of grace.”
I heard Jake say that, and turned my head to the side. The young man next to me was shaking his head, and pounding his thighs, in response to the sounds going through his ear buds. I saw this, and my first thought was “this is grace.”
I got the young man’s attention, and told him the story. He enjoyed hearing what I said. Some would say “And your point is?” Others would have told me what their pastor says about grace. Instead, the young man smiled, and gave me a fist bump.
I will not have a quote today about what grace means, either from the dictionary or the Bible. Grace is something Christians talk about, when they are not nabbering about life after death. It is telling that Jake said eternal life, between ecstasy and grace.
Eternal life … I am dictating this with a voice typewriter. When I said “eternal life” the microphone kicked off. I had to turn it off and restart. It was a glitch in the system, or a metaphor … for the way talk about “salvation” can get in the way of grace.
There is a Sunday School story. A man dies, and goes to the pearly gates. Saint Peter says that we have a test. You need one hundred points to get into heaven. The man begins: I was a loving husband to my wife of many years. We raised our children to be fine people. St. Peter said you get one point.
The man said, I was a born again Christian, saved by faith in Jesus Christ. St. Peter said that’s one more point. The man said, I was a businessman, and was respected by my employees and customers. St. Peter said you get a point for that.
The man starts to get flustered, and says it is only by the grace of God that I am here. St. Peter said that’s ninety seven points. Welcome to heaven.
Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
The Kinks
Dangerousminds brings the sad news that Pete Quaife, the original bass player for The Kinks, passed away yesterday. He was 66, and had been in dialysis for several years. Maybe it is time for Chamblee54 to do a post about The Kinks. This is a repost from 2010.
Battling brothers Ray and Dave Davies are the core of The Kinks. (The name is pronounced like the american Davis, as though the e did not exist). Ray was the vocalist, writer, and rhythm guitar player. Dave was the lead guitarist, and sparring partner for his brother. The fisticuffs were not restricted to the brothers. This led to the band being barred from performing in the United States between 1965 and 1969. The sixties happened anyway.
There were several hits in the early days, most notably You really got me, which became a signature tune for Van Halen. The band had numerous adventures, but never became the superstars that other British bands of that era did. Ray Davies developed as a songwriter, with many witty tunes, full of social commentary and britishness. (spell check suggestion:brutishness)
In the seventies The Kinks kept trooping on. They did an album called Preservation Act, which became the basis of a theatrical presentation. The next album was called Soap Opera, also getting the theater treatment. This is where PG got to see The Kinks.
It was sometime in the spring of 1975, at the Atlanta Municipal Auditorium. Elvin Bishop was the opening act. The Kinks had started when PG arrived, buying a $4.00 balcony seat. Alex Cooley was in the box office counting money, and broke open a roll of quarters to make change for a five.
The band was playing “Celluloid Heroes” when PG walked into the auditorium. There was no one on the door checking tickets, so PG walked onto the floor and found an empty seat on the 13th row. The next number was “Lola.”
Ray Davies introduced the song by saying ” If you are a man, sing LO. If you are a woman, sing LA. If you are not sure, clap your hands”. The next number was about demon alcohol. There were lights shining on the crowd during this number, as Ray Davies asked if there were any sinners in the audience. The band did several more songs, ending the first half of the evening with “You really got me.” Dave Davies got some spotlight time with a rave up intro to this number.
The second part of the show was a theatrical presentation of “Soap Opera”. The band wore rainbow colored wigs, and stood at the back of the stage while Ray Davies told the tale. “Soap Opera” was about a rock star who traded places with Norman, who lived a boring life. The flat Norman lived in has pictures of ducks on the wall, which drove Ray/Norman to scream “I can’t stand those f*****g ducks”. This led into a rocking ditty called, predictably, “Ducks on the Wall”.
As the show dragged on, Ray/Norman was embarrassed by the mess he was in. “You can’t say that in front of The Kinks, they are my band, and that is my audience.” The audience lights were turned on again, and the band played a medley of hits from 1964.
Finally, the real Norman came back to reclaim his wife, put the ducks back on the wall, and kick out The Kinks. The band gave up on theater before much longer, and were popular for the rest of the concert happy seventies. Ray Davies was the babydaddy for Chrissie Hynde. Eventually, the band quit performing, and continued to cash royalty checks.
Pictures are from the “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Publicly Shamed
When an author has book product, the author gets interviewed. This is how PG first heard of So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed, by Jon Ronson. The act of using “the media” to promote book product is a curious analog to shaming. To have the exhibitionism on the wtf podcast, starring the shame-proof Marc Maron, is an item on the irony buffet. This is a repost from 2015.
Justine Sacco made an unwise tweet about AIDS and white privilege. She landed in South Africa to discover herself notorious, and unemployed. The tabloid press said Max Mosley was at a Nazi themed sex party. He sued the paper about the Nazi part, won a settlement, and boasted of being a player. The tabloid newspaper got caught in another scandal, and was shut down.
This being non fiction, Mr. Ronson goes all over the place. There is a $500 a seat weekend seminar on “radical honesty.” There are academics, of various levels of intelligence, who write about shaming, prison techniques, and other trivia. There is a company who floods the internet with flattering stories about you, so that the trash goes to page three of google. There are also more people whose lives were ruined by public shaming. One example is the rape victim who committed suicide after her cross examination.
The star shaming saga is donglegate. (spell check suggestion: congregate) Two young men at a tech conference made a tacky joke. A lady, Adria Richards, took a picture of the young men. Immediately, the picture was on twitter. @adrisrichards Not cool Jokes about forking repo’s in a sexual way and “big” dongles Right behind me.
In her interview with Mr. Ronson, Ms. Richards said she felt that the dongle joke jeopardized her safety. “Have you ever heard that thing, Men are afraid that women will laugh at them and women are afraid that men will kill them?” “People might consider that an overblown thing to say”… She had, after all, been in the middle of a tech conference with eight hundred bystanders” “Sure And those people would probably be white and they would probably be male.”
While researching donglegate, Mr. Ronson talked to some people at 4chan. There was a comment made. It went into the preview copies of the book, but not the final edition. This is part of the the publicity process. Someone took offense at this comment, and made an issue out of it. For more details see this story, File under ‘inevitable’: “So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed” author Jon Ronson slammed by Twitter-shamers.
In all of these tales, Mr. Ronson’s name was spelled correctly. Some say there is no bad publicity. Whatever is said creates awareness of your product. There is a lot of awareness for SYBPS, and Mr. Ronson, right now. @jonronson Feeling incredibly sorry for #RachelDolezal and hope she’s okay. The world knows very little about her, her motives.
Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. Picture #06662 is from “Second International Pageant of Pulchritude and Eighth Annual Bathing Girl Revue, May 21, 22, 23, 1927, Galveston TX.”
Chamblee54 
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