T-Shirt Literacy

Cafe Press has a bewildering variety of specialty products, including some good book-oriented garb. (T-shirt Editorial Alert: For the capitalization to be consistent, shouldn't the word "it" be upper case?) To the right is another shirt using the last line from James Joyce's Ulysses that I saw tattooed on the back of a woman's neck at a book reading. (Fascinating blog entry here.)

From endings to beginnings, Red Molotov runs the intro to J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye on a T-shirt (no cool graphic available).

"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."

Giving Us the Electrocuted Bird, Part II

“[They are] the most stupid in the nation, few of their children speak English and through their indiscretion . . . great disorders may one day arise among us.” Benjamin Franklin (Can you guess what group he was referring to?*)

As you may be saddened to know, I’ve been building a case against Benjamin Franklin. I believe he may be the most over-rated of our Founding Fathers, and let's see, where was I… yes, let the record show that Franklin didn’t even like his new nation’s name, preferring the United States of North America. (Rats, that’s actually a good idea.) Okay, let me start over.

Ah, here we are. In 1741, Franklin printed the first magazine ad ever to run in North America. It was a “Wanted” ad for a runaway slave. Nice.

And while much is made of Franklin’s success as a diplomat in France, he earned a spot at the bottom of a chamber pot during his tenure there. True, Franklin was enormously popular with the French. That was the problem; he was TOO popular. When King Louis overheard one of Marie Antoinette’s ladies-in-waiting swooning over how great Franklin was, the king took measures. He had a customized porcelain chamber pot made. At its bottom was a picture of Franklin. And it was sent to the lady-in-waiting, who, I’m guessing, took the hint.

* He was talking about German immigrants. My sources are here.

Wherein the Blog Pursues a Theme: SCATology

Introducing El Caganer

Readers of The Pocket Guide to Mischief are already acquainted with the Spanish character of El Caganer (“the great pooper”). Statues of him evacuating his bowels are a common sight in Catalonia, where the traditional figurine of El Caganer is the Catalan peasant pictured below.
While this may seem odd, in northeastern Spain, these figurines date back to the 1600s and are considered symbols of good health. Hey, it's a culture without prissy scatalogical hangups! Before dining, Catalans sometimes say, “Menjar bé, i caga fort, i no tinguess por de la mort!” (“Eat well, poop strong, and you will have no fear of death!”)

According to Der Spiegel, in the Christmas season, Catalan kids “play a Where's-Waldo-like game that involves searching for the caganer, who is hidden somewhere in the Nativity arrangement.” As a symbol of respect, the pooper is usually located at some distance from the manger’s holier occupants.

If you’re interested, this website offers 150 different El Caganer figurines, all of them assuming the position. The current U.S. president is the company's second-bestselling item, but other political leaders are also available, for instance, Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez. (See also the Friends of El Caganer.)

Giving Us the Electrocuted Bird

“[Benjamin Franklin is] a crafty and lecherous old hypocrite whose very statue seems to gloat on the wenches as they walk the States House yard.” —William Cobbett

Statesman. Scientist. Revolutionary. Writer of bad jokes. The United States was founded by a score of brilliant human beings, and Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) may have been the brilliant-est of all. But so many watts have been added to his legend over the years, it’s possible he’s also the most overrated of the Founding Fathers.

For example, much is made of the Franklin’s wisdom and wit, but today, many of his one-liners have lost their zip. “He that lives on hope, dies farting”? How crude! (Of course, there’s also “Men and melons are hard to know.” So true!)

Further tarnishing Franklin's luster is the fact that he tried to give us the bird! As is tiresomely reported every Thanksgiving, Franklin wanted the U.S. to adopt the turkey for its national emblem. He claimed it was a “bird of courage.” While it’s hard to argue with that (a turkey is not a chicken), Franklin then stooped to dirty politics, charging that the bald eagle was a bird of “bad moral character”! Despite this slander, Congress adopted the bald eagle as our national emblem in 1782.

As for Franklin's professed love for the turkey, in 1750, Franklin tried to electrocute one of the fowls to death as part of an experiment. (Really!) But instead, Franklin accidentally electrocuted himself. The great man then suffered short-term memory loss for a... short term.

My sources are here.

One-Horse Towns Need Bigger Parking Spaces

Horse-drawn carriages are so 19th-century. Our modern age needs new solutions to our clean energy needs. Enter the Naturmobil!

Invented by Abdolhadi Mirhejazi, the Naturmobil bounces along on six motorcycle wheels with exactly one horsepower above them. By walking or running on a treadmill, the horse powers the Naturmobil forward. As this article states:

[It] produces enough surplus energy to charge a small battery which powers the buggy’s lights, electrical system, and can even take over from the horse when [the horse] needs a rest.

When the horse’s body temperature gets too hot for comfort, a sensor attached to its side transmits its temperature reading to a controller which automatically turns off the treadmill and switches the vehicle to run on battery power.

You've got to love the humane touches; the horse gets a weather canopy and a helpful gearing system (and as far as I can see, doesn’t have to take a bit).

Buy one here! (Horse not included.)

Bagels and Bongos

Inasmuch as it has no competing titles, And You Shall Know Us by the Trail of Our Vinyl is destined to become a classic of its kind.

Authors Roger Bennett and Josh Kun were recently interviewed on NPR about their journey collecting and annotating their book of album covers. It's particularly worth listening to for the clips from the albums themselves.

While these images may suggest a certain kitschiness to the project, the book seems to be a legitimate labor of love. As the authors note, they were searching for answers to questions about thorny topics like their own Jewish heritage and why so many of these vintage records were available in Boca Raton.

Finally! The Vomeronasal System as Interpretive Dance

Ricky Jay wrote his book Learned Pigs (see previous blog entry) at UCLA. According to a New Yorker profile, Thomas Wright, (a professor of literature and librarian), tried to persuade Jay to apply for a postdoctoral research fellowship.

When Jay explained that he didn’t have a doctorate, Wright said, “Maybe a master’s degree would be sufficient.”

“Thomas, I don’t even have a B.A.” [said Jay.]

Wright replied, “Well, you know, Ricky, a Ph.D. is just a sign of docility.”

Add to that flexibility now that Science magazine has solicited videos for its “Dance Your Ph.D.” contest. The idea was for researchers to “interpret their Ph.D. research in dance form.” Here's a non-winning entry that's still among the best submissions. (Keep in mind that “best” is a limited word in this context.) For example, here's Wendy Grus's take on her thesis: “Evolution of the vomeronasal system viewed through system-specific genes."

If you insist on seeing a winner, Vince LiCata, a biochemist at Louisiana State University, took the “Professors” category with this take on "Resolving Pathways of Functional Coupling in Human Hemoglobin Using Quantitative Low Temperature Isoelectric Focusing of Asymmetric Mutant Hybrids."

The four dancers are “representing the interaction of pairs of hemoglobin molecules." Wondering why Old Man Winter runs in to pour Styrofoam frost on someone? Muscle up and read the thesis. How hard could it be?

Un-Noosed and Not Kosher

This 1931 poster for the Man With the Iron Neck gives a good preview of his act. The Great Peters was a bungee-jumping pioneer; the rope he used covered a really long elastic band, so Peters could plummet, nearly touch the ground, bounce back, and un-noose himself.

Though the Man With an Iron Neck died in 1943 while performing this stunt, it wasn’t due to a weak spine. (Intestinal fortitude was also not to blame.) The Great Peters met his end when his rope broke. There’s no bouncing back from that.

In a not-very related story, the New York Times has a story today about Israeli gangsters sitting shiva for murdered crime boss Yaakov Alperon. Apparently, somebody didn't like Alperon despite attempts to rehab the family name. As part of this p.r. campaign, Alperon had opened up his family home to model Yael Goldman (above) "as part of a television reality show, 'Once in a Lifetime,' in which people were matched with different, often incongruous, types of families." Kooky!

Goldman was happy to do the show, but waxed philosophical afterwards. The model said, “You see ‘The Sopranos’ and it sounds sexy that some Mafioso comes and charms you into the sunset. But in reality it is the opposite. It is very intimidating, scary, not kosher.” Oy.

The poster above is from Ricky Jay’s droll and vastly informative book on unusual performers, Learned Pigs and Fireproof Women.

The Coolest Water Balloon Video in the History of the World

NPR’s Talk of the Nation posted what is apparently the coolest water balloon video in the history of the world. (I know, that’s sort of a grandiose statement given that water balloons weren’t even invented until the 21st century.)

In it, mechanical engineers Mark Weislogel (of Portland State University) and Seth Lichter pop water balloons on NASA's low-gravity training aircraft nicknamed the “Vomit Comet.” Four years ago, NASA announced that crews kept track of the amount of astronaut vomit cleaned up in the jet over the years. The total was over 285 gallons. Sounds like Mr. Lichter may have added to that. (Sorry, can’t embed the video; click on the picture below to follow the link.)
Yes, this teaches us very important aspects of physics; as one observer noted, “In addition to the surface tension observations, it appeared they were doing some quick & dirty trials on fluid collision behavior—” Ooh, another one popped!

World Toilet Day

Dang, I almost forgot: Today is World Toilet Day.
Odds are that anyone reading this will use a toilet 6-8 times daily. (More if you visit here regularly.) Above, an exhibit of 50 toilets placed outside of Berlin's Central Station to heighten sanitation awareness. What I like about the photo (from Der Spiegel) are the people; you can almost re-create their train of thought:

"There are dozens of toilets laid out in a pattern over there. Let us wander among them."

Last Thing: Here are the toughest places in the world to find a toilet.

Look Into My Eye

Artist Isia Leviant came up with something called the "Enigma illusion," wherein the purple rings of an image like this seem to contain moving particles. Exploring how this illusion is created, neuroscientist Jorge Otero-Millan helped determine that tiny, involuntary jerks of the watcher’s eye create this false motion in the image. Otero-Millan than created the above homage to the idea: Look into the middle of the pupil to see it.

This is just one of the many fascinating instances where we humans see something that is not there. Instead, we see a false reality that we unconsciously create. I wish I’d reflected on this more fully before pulling the wool over my own eyes. Yes, I bought a human-powered treadmill.

I thought this machine would be superior to walking, hiking, jogging, or cycling. But it wasn’t until I got out on the road with it that I realized it doesn’t come equipped with the proper reflectors or lights. Braking is a problem, and signaling my turns by hand throws off my equilibrium. So why did I buy it? Why?

I blame the tiny, involuntary jerks in my eyes.

Here’s another illusion; both of the ones featured here come from a terrific slide show over at Scientific American. This one is a variation on what’s called the Hajime Ouchi illusion. Move your head back and forward while looking at it. But to get the full effect, paint this on the side of a building and then roll toward and away from it on your human-powered treadmill.

(You may also want to take a peek at Adelson's Checker-Shadow Illusion.)

When Houses Attack

My canon aside, I know no more about architecture than the next interested layperson. (Hey, did you see that? I wrote “My canon aside.” I promise not to do that again.)


But I do have a soft spot for novelty architecture. We don’t have that many “Gee whiz!” buildings in the Pacific Northwest (left, Portland's Jug, below, Tacoma’s ramshackle Bob’s Java Jive), but luckily there are sites like Unusual Architecture.com.

For instance, the so-called "House Attack" from Vienna Austria (top, photo by Dom Dada) does the trick. While Unusual Architecture could be better annotated, the photo credits (and/or the Flickr groups the photos are in) usually lead to more brass tacks information on the buildings.
Above, the non-Photoshopped Crooked House of Sopot, Poland. (Photo by brocha.) Buildings with designs as freakish and original as these virtually force the onlooker to point at them while saying something clever like, “Look!” (Also acceptable: "Dude, that's so weird" and "I probably shouldn't have eaten that whole kielbasa.")

While it may not literally tower over these other buildings, Kansas City Library’s design is impossible to top. Photo by Jonathan Moreau. (Also of interest: Unusual Life.)

Thick Skins and Bouncy Centers

As professional jugglers and politicians know, it takes a thick skin to survive the public spotlight. (Hey, there’s not much need for “private spotlights,” is there?) In 2007, Senator Jim Inhofe (of Oklahoma) spoke to a receptive audience on this topic:

“I have been called—my kids are all aware of this—dumb, crazy man, science abuser, Holocaust denier, villain of the month, hate-filled, warmonger, Neanderthal, Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun. And I can just tell you that I wear some of those titles proudly.”

While I’m not sure which one of those titles the senator could happily don, Inhofe provides a role model of toughness that NBA players should take to heart. Take the oft-injured Baron Davis, for example. After incidental contact with Utah’s Mehmet Okur, Davis goes down like he was sniped by an assassin’s bullet.

More embarrassing is the celebratory chest bump that Sasha Vujacic of the Lakers (we hates ‘em!) tried to engage in… it’s like a physics experiment gone bad. In addition to having hollow bones, Vujacic apparently has a bouncy center.

Ooh! Looky!

It's REAL SIMPLE

The December issue of REAL SIMPLE includes The Pocket Guide to Games in its gift guide.

Many thanks to the RS staff for this unexpected kindness.
You're possibly wondering why the magazine isn't REALLY SIMPLE. It's because the two words in its title are meant to stand alone... and next to each other. That is, the magazine is REAL and it's SIMPLE. I suppose they could have gone with REAL/SIMPLE, but there were probably good reasons not to. Consumer resistance to backslashes and all that.

Stand-Up Comedians and Gangsta Horticulturists

Before Larry David was the writer/producer for Seinfeld, and the star of his own show, Curb Your Enthusiasm, he was a stand-up comic. Unsurprisingly, David was an idiosyncratic one; he didn’t do well with half-wits, hecklers, or the inattentive.

A memorable late 1970s performance of David’s is described in Richard Zoglin’s excellent book, Comedy at the Edge:

One night at Catch [a Rising Star], David came out, silently scanned the audience, muttered, “I don’t think so,” and walked off without saying another word.

Asked to reminisce about the moment today, David simply says, “I just didn’t like what I saw.”

What a mensch.

Along the lines of unfinished business, the Northwest Florida Daily News reports that three men were caught after they'd “attempted” to write an expletive on the road.

As the article diplomatically notes:

The expletive, which normally contains four letters, was missing the last letter — a "k." [A sheriff’s] deputy noted that although…the word was spelled wrong, the suspects will face criminal mischief/graffiti charge due to "the graphic nature of the word attempting to be spelled out."

Is attempted indecency more or less indecent than the regular kind? A wag has pointed out that they may have been a band of gangsta horticulturalists trying to spell “fuchsia.”

I don't think so.

Literary Look-Alikes

Portland’s annual literary festival, Wordstock, was held the other week. Its volunteers hosted an impressive diversity of authors and bookish offerings. For instance, let’s say that you like your get-togethers populated with Star Wars stormtroopers, Elvis impersonators, and Ovaltine samples. Wordstock had you covered!

Below: Star Wars writer Steve Perry, an Ovaltine enthusiast, and Elvis.

But if I can offer a modest suggestion, perhaps Wordstock could profit from the example set by the Florida bar known as Sloppy Joe’s. Since 1981, Sloppy Joe’s has hosted one of the most prestigious literary awards in the nation. Yes, I’m referring to its annual Ernest Hemingway Look-Alike Contest.

What authors have the distinctive appearance and name recognition to merit a look-alike contest hereabouts? Oregon-based possibilities might include locals like Ken Kesey, Ursula LeGuin and Chuck Palahniuk (below, left).

Last Look-Alike Listing: Charlie Chaplin's distinctive walk, mustache, and appearance led to a number of Charlie Chaplin look-alike contests in the early days of motion pictures.

Just for kicks, Chaplin entered a Chaplin look-alike contest in San Francisco. He didn’t even make it to the finals!

Blogging While Adulterated

Yep, I’m writing this in an adulterated state.

Actually, I write everything this way, but I didn’t realize it until this morning. That’s when I read about Portland bicyclist Michael "Bobby" Hammond, who was just cleared of criminal charges for nude cycling. (Hammond celebrates, above.) Hammond did this to support bike riding and to protest against little things like "cars, foreign oil, the Iraq war and air pollution.”

My favorite part of the story, which ran in the Oregonian:
"[Hammond] stripped off all his clothes and hopped on his vintage 1970s 10-speed — in an effort, he says, to make clear that nothing was powering his mode of transportation but his own unadulterated body."
I’ve long suspected that adulterated bicyclists —that is, the ones with clothes— might be using something to power their bikes. Whether it’s a small electric motor strapped beneath a pant leg or a petite internal combustion engine up their sleeve, there’s something fishy about the whole corrupt spectacle of bikers with clothes.

My fears are laid to rest each June, when the World Naked Bike Ride rolls around. Over 1,000 unadulterated Portland bikers took part in the last one, something that Judge Jerome LaBarre noted in Hammond’s case. The judge said that the symbolic protest of naked bike riding is a "well-established tradition" here in the Pacific Northwest.

Just not in the winter.

The 2008 Global Gender Gap Report Is Here! (repeat 2X)

The World Economic Forum has released its annual ranking of gender gaps worldwide. Among other things, it looks at how well countries divide resources and opportunities between men and women.

Its top 20 pioneers:
The United States comes in at #27. That's up four spots from last year, but still below bellwether countries like Sri Lanka and Lesotho!

There are no countries where women rate as high or higher than men with regard to factors like professional opportunities, education, health care, and political/economic decision-making.

Wow.

Rudy Is Not Every Day a Shooter

Rudy Fernandez is Spanish. That means that he isn't aware that when American professional athletes refer to themselves in the third person, they are mocked and skewered. It also explains why today's Oregonian quoted Fernandez as saying:

"Rudy is not everyday a shooter. He's defense. He's passes. He's assists."

Guess what? As a foreign national, Fernandez gets a free pass. Speaking of free passes, here's Fernandez getting an alley-oop from Sergio Rodriguez in the recent win against the Timberwolves.

As reported on OregonLive a while back, Fernandez was asked whom in the NBA he most wanted to go up against. The Spaniard singled out a fellow Spaniard.

"Pau [Gasol]. I've never played against him, only on the same team. I want to put points on your face."

Last Thing: In the first minutes of the fourth quarter against Orlando, Fernandez had three steals, two three pointers, and he drew a charge. Oh, and two assists. (Remember, he's passes.)

"What's Up?" and Other Illegal Interrogatives

In 2002, Judge Alex Kozinski threw out two claims relating to a disagreement over Barbie and the song “Barbie Girl.” In doing so, the judge uttered words that resounded throughout the nation:

“The parties are advised to chill.”

Well, maybe they didn’t really resound THAT much, but I took notice, okay? The introduction of slang into the courtroom can make for a fun mish-mosh of legalese and lingo. Witness Public Defender David Kennedy, whose opening argument in a recent Maryland Court of Appeals was:

“What’s up?”
Wow! Was Kennedy thumbing his nose at authority? After all, the usual lawyerly opening is something like “Mr. Chief Judge and may it please the court, etc.” But Kennedy was up to something! By beginning with “What’s up?” he hoped to jar the judge and jurors out of their lethargy.

It worked, but not in the way intended. Chief Judge Robert Bell told Kennedy that the correct pronunciation is “Whassup?”

Everyone laughed.

The case itself actually revolved around the question of the question “What’s up?” That’s what a police officer said to suspect Maurice Prioleau outside of a residence full of drugs back in 2005.

In response, Prioleau guiltily said, “I’m not going in that house. I’ve never been in that house.” Subsequent investigating showed that he had been in the house, and Prioleau was arrested and sentenced to 20 years in prison.

But the case has been appealed on the basis of that question. As Priorleau hadn't been read his Miranda rights when asked it, his public defender has argued that "What's up?" was an unlawful interrogation posing as an innocent rhetorical question.

Assistant Attorney General Cathleen Brockmeyer disputed this, maintaining that "What's up?" is “certainly not an invitation to incriminate yourself."

Speaking for myself, I rarely need much of an invitation to do just that. (Oh, and the case was still pending last I checked.)

House Speaker: The Large and the Small of It

I’m happy to be corrected, but I believe that Thomas Reed (1839–1902) was the all-time largest Speaker of the House of Representatives. But though Reed was big (nearly 300 lbs.!), he made his points with a small number of words.

Reed's pithiness was on display when a representative during a debate said, “I would rather be right than president,” Reed's response: “The gentleman need not worry. He will never be either.” Burn on him!

Reed once made fun of Teddy Roosevelt's brash nature by saying to the President, “If there is one thing for which I admire you, it is your original discovery of the Ten Commandments.” This forthright wittiness endeared the Speaker to those who appreciated an ability to speak truth to power. (Mark Twain loved him, apparently.)

At the other end of the scale, Nancy Pelosi has got to be the most diminutive Speaker of the House in history. She’s about five feet tall, which may be a sore point. (It’s impossible to find an official listing.) But smaller doesn’t mean cuter. In 2006, Pelosi said, “If people are ripping your face off, you have to rip their face off.” Yikes! So much for being a lightweight.
One More Reed-ism: During a House debate when the “five-minute rule” was in effect, a congressman kept blathering on and on. Reed put an end to that by saying, “You do not understand the theory of five-minute debate. The object is to convey . . . either information or misinformation. You have consumed several periods of five minutes this afternoon without doing either.”

Reed's picture from the Library of Congress. My sources are here.

Linguistic Irritants

Research from Oxford reveals what expressions most irritate Brits. The results are also included in a new book, Damp Squid: The English Language Laid Bare by Jeremy Butterfield. The title stems from the mistake people make using the word “squid” when they mean “squib” (firecracker). I suppose all squids are damp, while only duds are damp squibs.

The squid/squib error must be much more common in the U.K. than the U.S.

As reported in the Daily Telegraph, the expressions are:

10. “It's not rocket science” (A NASA scientist related that when he and his colleagues got stuck on a problem, someone would invariably say, “It’s not rocket science.” After a beat, someone else would say, “Actually, it is.” Then they would all laugh.)
9. “24/7”
8. “Shouldn't of”
7. “It's a nightmare”
6. “Absolutely” (I plead guilty.)
5. “With all due respect” (While I don’t hear this much, I do use the phrase, “With all due disrespect” at every opportunity.)
4. “At this moment in time”
3. “I personally” (Reminiscent of “I was thinking to myself.”)
2. “Fairly unique”
1. “At the end of the day”

Telegraph readers then responded with their leastest favorite expressions. Lowlights include:

9. “Neither here not there”
7.3 "Unexpectedly Bart!"
3. “I'm gutted”
2. “A safe pair of hands” (Huh?)
1. “Literally” (My family —me included— abuses this ruthlessly.)

Not annoying are the instances when someone (purposely or not) mangles a trope. For example, a certain someone I know has a variety of takes on “six of one, a half-dozen of another.” These include “six from one, then another dozen” and “six plus one... not another baker’s dozen?”

Egg photo by Darcy Babers

How Many Light Bulbs Does It Take to Change a Light Bulb?

This self-referential joke wasn’t Theodore Roosevelt’s favorite, but it could have been:
Q. What is brown and sticky?
A. A stick.*

Writing in the Guardian, Anthony McGowan reflects on this joke for 600-plus words in his article, “Reflective reflections on self-referentiality.” (Sample: How can a stick be like a stick? A stick is not like a stick, a stick is a stick. Something sticklike, but not itself a stick could be "sticky" in this sense. Maybe a bony finger, or a Twiglet. But not an actual stick. So, the whole joke collapses in on itself.)

Best of all, the joke provides a segue-way to the recent news that the stick has been inducted into the Toy Hall of Fame. There, it can join other distinguished playthings enshrined for immortality like the cardboard box (class of 2005).

The stick was singled out as a natural and cheap toy that can be used in a wide variety of creative ways. For example, not only can a stick be a sword, it can also function as a spear, a mace, or a punchline.

Further, Toy Hall of Fame associate curator Susan Asbury said the stick “is generally thought of as lovable and cuddly, even if it can doze off or cry during play.”

Wait, she’s apparently describing the stick’s co-inductee, the Baby Doll there. A crying stick? That's just silly. (It would also make it impossible to "play softly and carry a quiet stick.")

* If you thought “dung” was the punchline, please. That’s the answer to the question, “What’s brown and sounds like a bell?”

Brandon Roy: Untucked (and he brought doughnuts!)

Minnesota Timberwolf (and trick-shot artist) Kevin Love has either coined a phrase or introduced me to a cliché. Asked about being a starter, Love (right, with Kevin McHale) answered, “I just have to keep fighting and working and bringing in my doughnuts and stuff like that.”

More on that later, but in case you missed the Trail Blazers' overtime, cardiac-arrest inducing game against the Houston Rockets, it ended like this: With less than two second to go, Brandon Roy hit a turnaround jumper to put the Blazers up by two. We won! But then Yao Ming immediately scored, was fouled, and hit his free throw. We lost!

But with .8 of a second to play, Roy— oh, just watch it.

Blazers win! Man, Roy really brought the doughnuts on that one. (This also reminds me that the next time I want to celebrate a moment of great import, I need to quickly untuck my shirt.)

The Mood of a Nation (as seen from afar)

As the back of this jacket makes clear, happy day are here again! For those of you residing in Enjoy Time, why not toast your winners with some Ohana sake?

Of course, every election has its downside. To be gracious, let's not forget those whose candidates and causes didn't win. If they are particularly disgruntled, their mood is perhaps reflected by the Malaysian sign below.

For the following five reasons, all signs originate from Engrish.com.

Touch of Bogosity: Doubling Down and Spitting Up

doppelgänger: an apparition or double of a living person.
ORIGIN mid 19th cent.: from German, literally ‘double-goer.’

Perhaps you’ve had the curious experience of seeing your own doppelgänger. Like me, you no doubt found it to be a creepy yet fascinating experience. It’s your mirror image, but slightly twisted in a dark way that exaggerates your worst features and character traits.

All this came to mind when I got a spam e-mail featuring this proto-human. He is, sadly, my doppelgänger. We both work at home, and like me, this prat’s office is at the beach. Hey, a little sand in the fax machine is a small price to pay for good living. (No, I am not stretching for a metaphor there.)

There are other similarities, but I can’t bring myself to list them. This man is so bogus, he’s in a bogosity-zone. And that b-zone served as a painful reminder of this TV ad, one that, until now, I’ve successfully repressed for years. You’ll spot my doppelgänger easily enough; he’s my spitting image… and I spit on him.

But for an evil-shadow-twin, he does play the guitar pretty well!

Verba Non Grata

Like a lot of people in the U.S., I woke up this morning thinking about the status of Latin in England’s towns. This concern stems from recent news that the Bournemouth Council has banned the use of nearly 20 Latin words and phrases from the mouths and pens of its local employees. The terms in question:
In addition to these, Salisbury has also banned ergo and QED (quod erat demonstrandum), and Fife has excommunicated ex officio (oh, good one!). While classics scholars have been soiling themselves and concocting the perfect Latin phrase to express their outrage, a spokesperson from the Plain English Campaign (a group that's appeared here before) praised the move:

“[It] is important to remember that the national literacy level is about 12 years old and the vast majority of people hardly ever use these terms. It is far better to use words people understand.”

Hmm. Instead of segregating Latin words out from English as sui generis (unique and unable to classify), why not be more inclusive? After all, don’t ALL the words in our dictionaries make English e pluribus unum? (Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.)

Simply Weird

Reversing the candidate's races is a cute trick; now that I see it, I'm wondering what took so long! While Obama's hair is a bit freaky, the real problem is that the graphic designer who depicted McCain needed to do more fine tuning of the fine tones.

The ad agency Grey New York is responsible. Tor Myhren, its chief creative officer, said, "This is a non-partisan image. We wanted to address the race issue straight on." (Was Myhren tempted to say that the agency was addressing the issue "head on"?)

Traversing Literature: From Amusingly Overrated to LOL to Laughable

Election Special: The New York Times recently asked the all-important question: What is the most "lol" novel of all time? The editors of the Book Review section named their top vote-getter: Lucky Jim.

Said editors clearly have egg white in their veins. Kingsley Amis’s satire of neurotic intellectuals and English academic life is the funniest novel EVER? [Amis, below.] Heck, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao is a better comic novel than Lucky Jim, and it's NOT a comic novel! Still, it certainly made me laugh... when I wasn’t cringing or reaching for my Spanish dictionary. (And off the top of my head, both Motherless Brooklyn and Catch-22 are much funnier than Lucky Jim.)

Writing in the Guardian, Diane Shipley noted the dearth of recognition in the Times for funny female authors. Shipley’s list of possibilities (Nancy Mitford, Jane Austen [above], Marian Keyes) left out Dorothy Parker, but then Parker's longer works were less well known than her withering one-liners and morbid poems. Examples?

Regarding a book she had not enjoyed, Parker wrote, “This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.” And as to poetry:

It costs me never a stab nor squirm/To tread by chance upon a worm./“Aha, my little dear,” I say,/“Your clan will pay me back some day.”

Wait, I know what woman author is the funniest: Ayn Rand! I’ll never forget my astonishment at reading the much bally-hooed tandem of Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead. But I guess that "lol" and "laughable" aren’t really the same thing, are they?

Last Thing: Hmm, I thought this entry would somehow turn into an "election special," but it has failed to do so. :)

Sacré Bleu! Nicholas Batum Is Infuriated

Nicholas Batum is hopping mad, and I don’t blame him. The Portland Trail Blazer hails from a country that understands the importance of an engaged citizenry. After all, the voter turnout for the French presidential election of 2007 was 84%! That crushes the usual U.S. voter turnout numbers, though perhaps this year will be an exception.

But based on an Oregonian poll of the Trail Blazers voting, perhaps not. The on-line version of the article doesn’t have these specifics of player preferences:
McCain: Joel Przybilla
Obama: Jarryd Bayless, Channing Frye, Greg Oden, Travis Outlaw
Decline to State: LaMarcus Aldridge, Shavlik Randolph
Foreign Nationals: Rudy Fernandez, Sergio Rodgriguez (Spain), Batum
Will Not Vote: Brandon Roy, Steve Blake, Ike Diogu

"Will not vote"? How about "Does not care"? Brandon Roy said he won't vote for personal reasons. And Steve Blake stated that he never votes, but that he always supports whomever wins.

Arg. The only thing curbing my shame for these guys is the fact that they’re both class acts… who both need to think a LOT harder about what it means to be a responsible citizen. To get the bad taste of disengaged millionaires out of my mouth, here's a highlight reel of Batum against the Spurs this weekend. (How much do you want to bet he voted last year?)

Boyish Looks, Poison Tongue

Senator John Randolph of Virginia (1773–1883) may have been the most boyish-looking politician in U.S. history. Randolph was 26 when first elected, but was so baby-faced, the Clerk of the House asked if he was old enough to take the job.

“Ask my constituents,” was the acid reply.

Despite his cherubic appearance, Randolph was a mean one who loved nothing more than zinging an opponent with a good line. Speaking of his two colleagues, Robert Wright and John Rae, the senator said, “A Wright always wrong and a Rae without light.”

John Quincy Adams on Randolph (via Ovid): “His face is ashen, gaunt his whole body, His breath is green with gall; His tongue drips poison.”

Even so, I shake my head centuries later in reluctant admiration at this criticism Randolph aimed at an opponent: “[He is] a man of splendid abilities, but utterly corrupt. He shines and stinks like rotten mackerel by moonlight.”

A leading proponent of slavery, Randolph called anyone who disagreed with him on the matter a “dough-face.” So if the following story about him is true, it was nice payback.

When dining in New York one evening, Randolph ordered a black servant to leave the room. (He couldn't abide to be near blacks.) The servant bowed, but remained where he was.

The senator continued to harangue him to leave, until at last the man answered, “Excuse me, sir, but I must stay. The management holds me responsible for the silverware.”

The painting of Randolph above is by famed portraitist Gilbert Stuart. The silverware sketches are by Bartolomeo Scappi via the Library of Congress. My sources are here.