"Where Do You Keep The Unicorns?"
Texas zoo exhibits creationist display.
Paging all Satanists and Phallus-Worshippers: Creationists say that to not include a point of view would be discriminatory.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Good Religion
Don't kill somebody to kiss up to God/s--dance naked.
Yes, it could get ugly but it would beat terrorism.
Don't kill somebody to kiss up to God/s--dance naked.
Yes, it could get ugly but it would beat terrorism.
No Respect at the Library
I searched the Cincinnati Public Library's catalog for "Ed Wood." The first thing that popped up was Design of wood structures--ASD 5th ed.
A few days ago I noticed that their computers were blocking Nathan Singer's pages for A Prayer for Dawn. First Anderson High School, next the library, tomorrow the world.
I searched the Cincinnati Public Library's catalog for "Ed Wood." The first thing that popped up was Design of wood structures--ASD 5th ed.
A few days ago I noticed that their computers were blocking Nathan Singer's pages for A Prayer for Dawn. First Anderson High School, next the library, tomorrow the world.
Midweek Update
My stepdaughter was off of school this week which explains why I couldn't post yesterday. Her mom hardly ever lets her play video games during the school year so she was on Cartoon Network, playing Teen Titans for hours. She's also been cleaning the library out of comic book compilations--she might be the first girl to go to a comic book convention.
She also made honor roll so I'm giving her first dibs on the computer. (And to any trolls: the computer is in the living room so she isn't making illicit web pages of herself.)
Devilboy was up all last night with stomach problems. He was groggy for the home visitation from Forest Hills but I'm hoping he'll be more awake tomorrow when we go in for his observation.
If anyone remembers the situation with my niece, apparently time is standing still in Clinton County. The court case keeps getting delayed and she wants to just let time run out until her 18th birthday. I don't know if that's the best decision but I'm not in her shoes.
Oh, and my dog has lots of fleas. He's going to need a bath with the special shampoo and will probably bite at least one of my arms off.
My stepdaughter was off of school this week which explains why I couldn't post yesterday. Her mom hardly ever lets her play video games during the school year so she was on Cartoon Network, playing Teen Titans for hours. She's also been cleaning the library out of comic book compilations--she might be the first girl to go to a comic book convention.
She also made honor roll so I'm giving her first dibs on the computer. (And to any trolls: the computer is in the living room so she isn't making illicit web pages of herself.)
Devilboy was up all last night with stomach problems. He was groggy for the home visitation from Forest Hills but I'm hoping he'll be more awake tomorrow when we go in for his observation.
If anyone remembers the situation with my niece, apparently time is standing still in Clinton County. The court case keeps getting delayed and she wants to just let time run out until her 18th birthday. I don't know if that's the best decision but I'm not in her shoes.
Oh, and my dog has lots of fleas. He's going to need a bath with the special shampoo and will probably bite at least one of my arms off.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Devilboy Tested
I took D-boy to Children's Hospital today for the first of three sets of behavioral/developmental tests. They didn't tell us anything completely unexpected but I might have to get a fourth job to pay for his and his sister's therapies.
Tomorrow is just a home observation but the last big exam is on Wednesday. Hoping it helps.
I took D-boy to Children's Hospital today for the first of three sets of behavioral/developmental tests. They didn't tell us anything completely unexpected but I might have to get a fourth job to pay for his and his sister's therapies.
Tomorrow is just a home observation but the last big exam is on Wednesday. Hoping it helps.
Censorship and Bad Magic
This is a long-winded ramble based on one of Covington's posts about "dangerous books."
In June of 1952, while working in his garage/lab in Pasadena, Jack Parsons, chemist for the Caltech Rocket Propulsion program, mixed cordite and fulminate of mercury. The resulting explosion killed him and tore apart his house. Initially investigators had a hard time believing an experienced chemist would make such a careless mistake.
The most convincing explanation that anyone ever came up for his death was that Parsons had been reading the works of Aleister Crowley and attempted to create the "homunculus," a tiny man/demon that granted magical powers. Crowley's homunculus recipe called for a cordite/mercury mix and apparently Parsons followed it without thinking. (This is only one theory about Parsons' death--others believe he committed suicide or that an enemy planted a bomb in his home.)
Crowley had died five years earlier so there was no way of questioning him about the matter (unless you followed one of his other spells). Crowley was an educated man so it's unlikely that the mix of chemicals was just by chance. I've read that all of Crowley's writings were booby-trapped but considering some of his critics, I don't know how much can be believed. In his defense, I believe that Crowley once wrote that all his books were lies so it's debatable if he ever wanted anyone to literally follow his directions.
Centuries before Crowley, other magicians had written formulas for homunculus (alluded to in one of Robert Anton Wilson's novels) that called for the spell caster to ejaculate into his own feces. This might have caused rubes to masturbate into their own shit but at least it wouldn't kill them. Crowley might have wanted to one up the old masters.
I don't think this will ever get wrapped up for everyone's satisfaction but it makes me wonder about the ethics of publishing Crowley's work. Should an editor include a disclaimer under the homunculus spell that "performing this rite at home may lead to immediate death"? Should an editor even block out the ingredients?
Going along these lines, if someone wrote a cookbook that included a recipe with cyanide, should a publisher remove it or include a warning? This goes beyond the standard arguments for censorship—it's one thing to express unpopular ideas but another to intentionally trick readers without warning.
Years ago at American Legal Publishing, I wrote a joke article for the company newsletter that gave directions for finding explicit pictures of one of the salesmen and Marge Schott. The last line of the directions was "Type ‘Format c:'" At the last minute I chickened out and changed it to the inoperable "Type ‘Format hard drive.'" If I hadn't and some moron actually formatted his computer, would I have been responsible? I'm sure I would have been fired but I don't know if this legitimizes censorship or is the equivalent of yelling fire in a crowed theater.
Imagine if magic actually worked and a Crowley-equivalent published a book of death spells. In real life in U.S. v. The Progressive (1979), U.S. courts denied a magazine the right to publish instructions to build a hydrogen bomb. Again were they right to do so or was this unwarranted censorship? For the answers to this and all other questions, simply type "format c:" and press enter.
This is a long-winded ramble based on one of Covington's posts about "dangerous books."
In June of 1952, while working in his garage/lab in Pasadena, Jack Parsons, chemist for the Caltech Rocket Propulsion program, mixed cordite and fulminate of mercury. The resulting explosion killed him and tore apart his house. Initially investigators had a hard time believing an experienced chemist would make such a careless mistake.
The most convincing explanation that anyone ever came up for his death was that Parsons had been reading the works of Aleister Crowley and attempted to create the "homunculus," a tiny man/demon that granted magical powers. Crowley's homunculus recipe called for a cordite/mercury mix and apparently Parsons followed it without thinking. (This is only one theory about Parsons' death--others believe he committed suicide or that an enemy planted a bomb in his home.)
Crowley had died five years earlier so there was no way of questioning him about the matter (unless you followed one of his other spells). Crowley was an educated man so it's unlikely that the mix of chemicals was just by chance. I've read that all of Crowley's writings were booby-trapped but considering some of his critics, I don't know how much can be believed. In his defense, I believe that Crowley once wrote that all his books were lies so it's debatable if he ever wanted anyone to literally follow his directions.
Centuries before Crowley, other magicians had written formulas for homunculus (alluded to in one of Robert Anton Wilson's novels) that called for the spell caster to ejaculate into his own feces. This might have caused rubes to masturbate into their own shit but at least it wouldn't kill them. Crowley might have wanted to one up the old masters.
I don't think this will ever get wrapped up for everyone's satisfaction but it makes me wonder about the ethics of publishing Crowley's work. Should an editor include a disclaimer under the homunculus spell that "performing this rite at home may lead to immediate death"? Should an editor even block out the ingredients?
Going along these lines, if someone wrote a cookbook that included a recipe with cyanide, should a publisher remove it or include a warning? This goes beyond the standard arguments for censorship—it's one thing to express unpopular ideas but another to intentionally trick readers without warning.
Years ago at American Legal Publishing, I wrote a joke article for the company newsletter that gave directions for finding explicit pictures of one of the salesmen and Marge Schott. The last line of the directions was "Type ‘Format c:'" At the last minute I chickened out and changed it to the inoperable "Type ‘Format hard drive.'" If I hadn't and some moron actually formatted his computer, would I have been responsible? I'm sure I would have been fired but I don't know if this legitimizes censorship or is the equivalent of yelling fire in a crowed theater.
Imagine if magic actually worked and a Crowley-equivalent published a book of death spells. In real life in U.S. v. The Progressive (1979), U.S. courts denied a magazine the right to publish instructions to build a hydrogen bomb. Again were they right to do so or was this unwarranted censorship? For the answers to this and all other questions, simply type "format c:" and press enter.
Worse than Plan 9
For years, I've felt ashamed that my wife renews Entertainment Weekly. I know it's one of the dumbest magazines out there (thank you Lucky for lowering the bar) but this week it redeemed itself with an article entitled "The Worst Movie Ever Made."
1966, El Paso, Texas: on a bet, Harold "Hal" P. Warren, a fertilizer salesman, decided to direct a movie. He scribbled down the outline for the plot on a napkin. He cast himself as a man who accidentally drives his family into the clutches of some undefined kind of monster. He raised $19,000, which today with cheap videotape and editing equipment might have been enough but in the days of film, it wasn't enough to record a wedding.
Only two cast members were paid: the six-year old daughter (given a new bike) and a dog (50 pounds of dog food). The script called for the family to ride in the car for what seems like 45 minutes. This isn't filmed inside the car, providing meaningful dialogue; it's mainly filmed outside the car. You just see a car riding down the road for the first half of the movie.
Those of you in the know are already saying, "Hey, that's Manos: The Hands of Fate!"
Manos is some sort of vampire-like fiend who calls himself "the Master" and wears a black cape with red hands. He doesn't really do anything but the audience is expected to fear him for some reason. The Master has a harem of wives who wear filmsy white dresses and fight each other by rolling around on the ground and making strange noises.
Easily the best part of Manos was Torgo, the Master's version of Rensfield. Shipping clerk John Reynolds took the role of Torgo who is supposed to be some kind of a satyr but you never see any evidence of it except his kneecaps seem swelled up under his pants. Cast members believe Reynolds was high on acid the whole time during filming. Sadly, almost exactly a month before the November 15, 1966, world premier of Manos: The Hands of Fate, Reynolds shot himself through the mouth, ending any chance of Torgo's revenge.
Warren kept a good sense of humor about the movie and wore the Master's robe every Halloween. He died of lung cancer in 1985 and never got to see the Renaisance of Manos in 1993.
At first the writers of Mystery Science 3000 thought Manos was too terrible for even them to use. Finally they broke down and aired it. (For those of you unfamiliar with MS3K , the premise is that a mad doctor and his assistant, tv's Frank, torture/experiment upon a test subject by showing him horrible movies. Manos was so bad that both the doctor and Frank personally apologized.)
Although it hasn't been released yet, Hotel Torgo , a documentary on Manos , has been completed. I don't know much about this yet but you have to figure that pressure was off the director. He knew no matter how bad a movie he made, it couldn't be worse than the subject.
For years, I've felt ashamed that my wife renews Entertainment Weekly. I know it's one of the dumbest magazines out there (thank you Lucky for lowering the bar) but this week it redeemed itself with an article entitled "The Worst Movie Ever Made."
1966, El Paso, Texas: on a bet, Harold "Hal" P. Warren, a fertilizer salesman, decided to direct a movie. He scribbled down the outline for the plot on a napkin. He cast himself as a man who accidentally drives his family into the clutches of some undefined kind of monster. He raised $19,000, which today with cheap videotape and editing equipment might have been enough but in the days of film, it wasn't enough to record a wedding.
Only two cast members were paid: the six-year old daughter (given a new bike) and a dog (50 pounds of dog food). The script called for the family to ride in the car for what seems like 45 minutes. This isn't filmed inside the car, providing meaningful dialogue; it's mainly filmed outside the car. You just see a car riding down the road for the first half of the movie.
Those of you in the know are already saying, "Hey, that's Manos: The Hands of Fate!"
Manos is some sort of vampire-like fiend who calls himself "the Master" and wears a black cape with red hands. He doesn't really do anything but the audience is expected to fear him for some reason. The Master has a harem of wives who wear filmsy white dresses and fight each other by rolling around on the ground and making strange noises.
Easily the best part of Manos was Torgo, the Master's version of Rensfield. Shipping clerk John Reynolds took the role of Torgo who is supposed to be some kind of a satyr but you never see any evidence of it except his kneecaps seem swelled up under his pants. Cast members believe Reynolds was high on acid the whole time during filming. Sadly, almost exactly a month before the November 15, 1966, world premier of Manos: The Hands of Fate, Reynolds shot himself through the mouth, ending any chance of Torgo's revenge.
Warren kept a good sense of humor about the movie and wore the Master's robe every Halloween. He died of lung cancer in 1985 and never got to see the Renaisance of Manos in 1993.
At first the writers of Mystery Science 3000 thought Manos was too terrible for even them to use. Finally they broke down and aired it. (For those of you unfamiliar with MS3K , the premise is that a mad doctor and his assistant, tv's Frank, torture/experiment upon a test subject by showing him horrible movies. Manos was so bad that both the doctor and Frank personally apologized.)
Although it hasn't been released yet, Hotel Torgo , a documentary on Manos , has been completed. I don't know much about this yet but you have to figure that pressure was off the director. He knew no matter how bad a movie he made, it couldn't be worse than the subject.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Say It Ain't So, Arnie
Just after I wrote something nice about Arnold for coming clean about global warming, he decides to keep the loot stolen from the Ohio Coin Scandal.
Good for Bush and the RNC for giving their part back. I hope we won't hear any dirt about them!
Just after I wrote something nice about Arnold for coming clean about global warming, he decides to keep the loot stolen from the Ohio Coin Scandal.
Good for Bush and the RNC for giving their part back. I hope we won't hear any dirt about them!
Flu Day
My wife drove for my stepdaughter's girl scout trip so I had Devilboy and Devilgirl (actually she's not even half the trouble of him but I'm sick of calling her "Devilboy's sister") for the weekend.
Naturally this would be the weekend they get the Digestive System Destructo-Flu so I've been covered in vomit and worse every couple of hours. I know there's some perverts who would pay money for such a chance but my tastes run more conventional (relatively).
I did four loads of laundry yesterday, three today, and there's plenty left over for tomorrow. Thank God I'm not paying for water.
My wife drove for my stepdaughter's girl scout trip so I had Devilboy and Devilgirl (actually she's not even half the trouble of him but I'm sick of calling her "Devilboy's sister") for the weekend.
Naturally this would be the weekend they get the Digestive System Destructo-Flu so I've been covered in vomit and worse every couple of hours. I know there's some perverts who would pay money for such a chance but my tastes run more conventional (relatively).
I did four loads of laundry yesterday, three today, and there's plenty left over for tomorrow. Thank God I'm not paying for water.
Koran not Flushed down a Toilet; Just Used as a Toilet
U.S. admits mistakes were made. Looks like somebody owes Newsweek an apology.
U.S. admits mistakes were made. Looks like somebody owes Newsweek an apology.
Friday, June 03, 2005
It's been forever since one of these. It's rough, it's unpolished, but here's--
Devilboy and Evil Dad in
Guess Who's Coming for Sinner
While Devilboy is napping, Evil Dad gives the old "ripping-open-a-demonic-portal-to-another-dimension-so-that-an-ancient-evil-can-yada-yada-yada" routine another shot.
Evil Dad (whispers to three virgins, tied up in a pentagram): Wakey, wakey, my sweets! Little did you know when you went to that fraternity party last night that you would be drugged and awakened in this dungeon.
Virgin1: Actually that's what happens every time I go to a frat party.
ED (still whispering): Um, then I'm guessing your status as virgins isn't entirely accurate.
V3: I say it only counts if you're sober.
ED: No matter, the dread Cyruthulu will still accept a former virgin. I just won't receive the complimentary tote bag and her corporate newsletter.
DB: Hu-wuh?
ED (shrieks and tries to rock Devilboy to sleep): Sleepie-bye baby, please don't wake up (DB begins to thrash and vomit) Okay, you win--here's another beer.
(DB chugs and passes out again)
V2: You gave alcohol to a child! You should be ashamed of yourself!
ED: It's not something I'm proud of but you have no idea of the pressure of being an evil cult leader AND the primary care-giver of a special needs child.
V1: I hear Pat Buchanan has three special needs children.
ED: Yeah, in a jar under his desk.
(Devilboy wakes up, jumps into the pentagram, and kicks over candles)
ED: Stop, that'll conjure up the wrong Ancient One!
(A flash of light and the Eye of Sauron materializes)
Sauron: Tremble at my might, ye insects! All hope shall be extinguished in my shadow! Let the bl—
(Devilboy smears his diaper in Sauron's iris)
Sauron: Oh, you brute, you brute, you brute, you vicious brute! (vanishes)
ED: Holy copyright infringement! I'd better hurry up and destroy the world or Christopher Tolkien will be on my ass!
(Devilboy kicks over another candle; Lord Voldemort appears in a puff of vapor)
LV: Fools! Do you realize that you've opened the door of death for your mugglish little world.
(Devilboy shoves a magic candle down Voldemort's shorts, setting his crotch afire)
LV: God, I hate kids! (vanishes)
ED: Just great! You can just kiss any chance of a Slytherin scholarship good bye!
(Devilboy pulls a lit cigarette from his diaper and ignites a dark part of the pentacle; Cthulhu appears)
ED: Take your time with this one. His copyright's expired.
(Cthulhu hums/grunts a song of destruction, warping time and space, the sum of a triangle no longer adds up to 180 degrees, Miller Lite no longer is less filling or tastes great)
DB: Fuh-ish fud! (dumps a bottle of wasabi on his head and starts biting)
Cthulhu: Not the tentacles! They have such a concentration of pain-receptacles! (vanishes)
(Devilboy tries to conjure something else but nothing responds)
DB: Duhm jah! (destroys everything in room in fraction of a second)
V2: Wow, that was like the time I mixed ecstasy and acid.
ED: Sorry about wasting your time. He broke all the evil paraphernalia so you might as well go home (unties virgins)
V2: What? You're not going to repeatedly rape me? I got all dressed up for a frat party for nothing?
ED: Don't fret. The Shriners are having a meeting at midnight and just try to buy an undefiled virgin from them.
V3: Yuck, little cars are such a turn-off (leave)
ED (watches them go): Well, Devilboy, you ruined my dreams once more.
DB: Ruhg! (hands over the One Ring that he swiped from Sauron)
ED: Sweet Momma Cyruthulu! Looks Jeb Bush will be watching ME get the nomination in 2008!
DB: Braaappp! (vomits up parts of Chtulu's face)
Join us some time in the future for another exciting episode of Devilboy and Evil Dad when we'll hear Evil Wife say, "It's Christopher Tolkien's lawyer on the phone. He says a discussion is in order."
Devilboy and Evil Dad in
Guess Who's Coming for Sinner
While Devilboy is napping, Evil Dad gives the old "ripping-open-a-demonic-portal-to-another-dimension-so-that-an-ancient-evil-can-yada-yada-yada" routine another shot.
Evil Dad (whispers to three virgins, tied up in a pentagram): Wakey, wakey, my sweets! Little did you know when you went to that fraternity party last night that you would be drugged and awakened in this dungeon.
Virgin1: Actually that's what happens every time I go to a frat party.
ED (still whispering): Um, then I'm guessing your status as virgins isn't entirely accurate.
V3: I say it only counts if you're sober.
ED: No matter, the dread Cyruthulu will still accept a former virgin. I just won't receive the complimentary tote bag and her corporate newsletter.
DB: Hu-wuh?
ED (shrieks and tries to rock Devilboy to sleep): Sleepie-bye baby, please don't wake up (DB begins to thrash and vomit) Okay, you win--here's another beer.
(DB chugs and passes out again)
V2: You gave alcohol to a child! You should be ashamed of yourself!
ED: It's not something I'm proud of but you have no idea of the pressure of being an evil cult leader AND the primary care-giver of a special needs child.
V1: I hear Pat Buchanan has three special needs children.
ED: Yeah, in a jar under his desk.
(Devilboy wakes up, jumps into the pentagram, and kicks over candles)
ED: Stop, that'll conjure up the wrong Ancient One!
(A flash of light and the Eye of Sauron materializes)
Sauron: Tremble at my might, ye insects! All hope shall be extinguished in my shadow! Let the bl—
(Devilboy smears his diaper in Sauron's iris)
Sauron: Oh, you brute, you brute, you brute, you vicious brute! (vanishes)
ED: Holy copyright infringement! I'd better hurry up and destroy the world or Christopher Tolkien will be on my ass!
(Devilboy kicks over another candle; Lord Voldemort appears in a puff of vapor)
LV: Fools! Do you realize that you've opened the door of death for your mugglish little world.
(Devilboy shoves a magic candle down Voldemort's shorts, setting his crotch afire)
LV: God, I hate kids! (vanishes)
ED: Just great! You can just kiss any chance of a Slytherin scholarship good bye!
(Devilboy pulls a lit cigarette from his diaper and ignites a dark part of the pentacle; Cthulhu appears)
ED: Take your time with this one. His copyright's expired.
(Cthulhu hums/grunts a song of destruction, warping time and space, the sum of a triangle no longer adds up to 180 degrees, Miller Lite no longer is less filling or tastes great)
DB: Fuh-ish fud! (dumps a bottle of wasabi on his head and starts biting)
Cthulhu: Not the tentacles! They have such a concentration of pain-receptacles! (vanishes)
(Devilboy tries to conjure something else but nothing responds)
DB: Duhm jah! (destroys everything in room in fraction of a second)
V2: Wow, that was like the time I mixed ecstasy and acid.
ED: Sorry about wasting your time. He broke all the evil paraphernalia so you might as well go home (unties virgins)
V2: What? You're not going to repeatedly rape me? I got all dressed up for a frat party for nothing?
ED: Don't fret. The Shriners are having a meeting at midnight and just try to buy an undefiled virgin from them.
V3: Yuck, little cars are such a turn-off (leave)
ED (watches them go): Well, Devilboy, you ruined my dreams once more.
DB: Ruhg! (hands over the One Ring that he swiped from Sauron)
ED: Sweet Momma Cyruthulu! Looks Jeb Bush will be watching ME get the nomination in 2008!
DB: Braaappp! (vomits up parts of Chtulu's face)
Join us some time in the future for another exciting episode of Devilboy and Evil Dad when we'll hear Evil Wife say, "It's Christopher Tolkien's lawyer on the phone. He says a discussion is in order."
The Openers
At this very moment, I'm listening to the Openers with Brad Thacker and Darin Overholser, airing Friday 10:00 a.m. on WAIF 88.3 FM and/or www.waif883.org.
I would call in but every time they give the number, Devilboy starts screaming or knocks over his breakfast.
UPDATE: I'm pretty sure the number is 749-1444 but Devilboy is screaming for Go, Dog, Go by P.D. Eastman.
At this very moment, I'm listening to the Openers with Brad Thacker and Darin Overholser, airing Friday 10:00 a.m. on WAIF 88.3 FM and/or www.waif883.org.
I would call in but every time they give the number, Devilboy starts screaming or knocks over his breakfast.
UPDATE: I'm pretty sure the number is 749-1444 but Devilboy is screaming for Go, Dog, Go by P.D. Eastman.
Diaper-Eating Dog
My gross pet list just got bumped but I just noticed a comment from Louis that brought back a wave of repressed memories of my dog eating dirty diapers. By the second kid, we figured out never to store garbage less than five feet from the floor. We still have plastic bags hanging from the top door hinges, like camping near bears.
My gross pet list just got bumped but I just noticed a comment from Louis that brought back a wave of repressed memories of my dog eating dirty diapers. By the second kid, we figured out never to store garbage less than five feet from the floor. We still have plastic bags hanging from the top door hinges, like camping near bears.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Kids' Books My Kids Ignored
Some kid lit books are written strictly for children, some can be read by everyone, and others only appeal to parents. I checked out two books that I liked but my kids showed no interest.
The first, All the World's a Stage by Rebecca Piatt Davidson, is essentially a variation of "The House that Jack Built" centered around Shakespeare and his plays, including The Comedy of Errors, Hamlet, The Taming of the Shrew, Romeo and Juliet, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, A Midsummer Night's Dream, King Lear, and The Winter's Tale (but not mentioning "exit pursued by a bear").
A couple of incidents in Shakespeare's plays that would make a kid sit up and listen might be:
*Crabbe the farting dog from Two Gentlemen from Verona
*In Titus Andronicus, tricking the main character into chopping off his hand to save his sons who are secretly already beheaded after being framed for the rape and mutiliation of their sister and the murder of their brother-in-law
*Just the premise of Othello in red states
*Just the premise of The Merchant of Venice in blue states
*Joan of Arc conjuring demons and sleeping with half the French Army in Henry VI, Part II
Of course, a book like that might get you arrested and your kids sent to therapy but it could compete with cartoons.
The other book, Science Verse by Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith, looked funny but neither kid would sit through even the shortest poem. The "Verses" were parodies of famous poems, set up around scientific matters like "Evolution" based on "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" and "Astronaut Stopping by a Planet on a Snowy Evening." This would be a good book to buy creationist parents just to piss them off but they might not read it either.
Some kid lit books are written strictly for children, some can be read by everyone, and others only appeal to parents. I checked out two books that I liked but my kids showed no interest.
The first, All the World's a Stage by Rebecca Piatt Davidson, is essentially a variation of "The House that Jack Built" centered around Shakespeare and his plays, including The Comedy of Errors, Hamlet, The Taming of the Shrew, Romeo and Juliet, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, A Midsummer Night's Dream, King Lear, and The Winter's Tale (but not mentioning "exit pursued by a bear").
A couple of incidents in Shakespeare's plays that would make a kid sit up and listen might be:
*Crabbe the farting dog from Two Gentlemen from Verona
*In Titus Andronicus, tricking the main character into chopping off his hand to save his sons who are secretly already beheaded after being framed for the rape and mutiliation of their sister and the murder of their brother-in-law
*Just the premise of Othello in red states
*Just the premise of The Merchant of Venice in blue states
*Joan of Arc conjuring demons and sleeping with half the French Army in Henry VI, Part II
Of course, a book like that might get you arrested and your kids sent to therapy but it could compete with cartoons.
The other book, Science Verse by Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith, looked funny but neither kid would sit through even the shortest poem. The "Verses" were parodies of famous poems, set up around scientific matters like "Evolution" based on "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" and "Astronaut Stopping by a Planet on a Snowy Evening." This would be a good book to buy creationist parents just to piss them off but they might not read it either.
Anderson in the News
First Bob McEwen, now this..
My neck of the woods is actually starting to get interesting.
First Bob McEwen, now this..
My neck of the woods is actually starting to get interesting.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Redskin or Devil?
I can't believe it's taken this long for teams with "Satanic" mascots to take flack.
Like the whole "Redskin" flap at Anderson, why the attachment to a name? (Okay, the Jersey Devil is a pretty good reason.) Wouldn't changing your name every couple of years create new marketing opportunities?
I'd rather have a team called the Cincinnati Buttholes than the Bengals if they fielded a decent line.
I can't believe it's taken this long for teams with "Satanic" mascots to take flack.
Like the whole "Redskin" flap at Anderson, why the attachment to a name? (Okay, the Jersey Devil is a pretty good reason.) Wouldn't changing your name every couple of years create new marketing opportunities?
I'd rather have a team called the Cincinnati Buttholes than the Bengals if they fielded a decent line.
49er Film
Racial jokes? Lesbian exploitation? Why is this happening in San Francisco and not Cincinnati? Oh, wait--they have a pro football team.
Racial jokes? Lesbian exploitation? Why is this happening in San Francisco and not Cincinnati? Oh, wait--they have a pro football team.
Whatta Day
At 10:06 this morning I called NKU and found that I did have a class after all--the same time as the last class at Clermont. I gambled that a good start is better than a good finish and got a sub for Clermont.
I was feeling so much better about teaching than I was this time last year. Thanks to Devilboy, I'm still happy to have an excuse to get out of the house.
At 10:06 this morning I called NKU and found that I did have a class after all--the same time as the last class at Clermont. I gambled that a good start is better than a good finish and got a sub for Clermont.
I was feeling so much better about teaching than I was this time last year. Thanks to Devilboy, I'm still happy to have an excuse to get out of the house.
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