MODERN WISDOM NUMBER 180 OCTOBER 2013

MODERN WISDOM: AMERICA’S ONLY HUMOR MAGAZINE
NUMBER 180
OCTOBER 2013
Copyright 2013 Francis DiMenno
http://dimenno.gather.com
dimenno@gmail.com

https://dimenno.wordpress.com/

AND NOW…MODERN WISDOM PRESENTS:
1. SINISTER BULLSHIT
2. UNCLE COUSIN
3. ACID CARNIVAL
4. FAILED REBELLION
5. AMERICAN VAUDEVILLE
6. WITH IT, FOR IT, & NEVER OUT OF IT
7. OLD MAN TROUBLE
8. RUN DOWN NOSE
9. BIRDSONGS OF ANTIQUITY
10. GOLDEN DON
11. TRASH DOLLS
12. KERRY & ELIASON
13. AVOIDERS OF THE KNOWN
14. NOCORE
15. JESUS: LOSS LEADER FOR JEHOVAH
16. TWILIGHT OF THE AD FIGURES
17. FANTASY EVERYTHING
18. JUNK RULES
19. KISS ME ON THE BUS
20. NEW DUST

21. NOIR MISFORTUNE COOKIES: TENTH SERIES
901. You are being relentlessly tracked by a cold-blooded killer.
902. You may not believe it, but you are God’s worst enemy.
903. Your vanity will ironically result in hideous disfigurement.
904. The man you’ve been following will turn around and kill you.
905. Your court-appointed psychiatrist is even more insane than you.
906. You can’t handle the truth. You can’t even handle lies.
907. If you weren’t completely corrupt, you’d be nothing at all.
908. You live at the intersection of Homicide Street and Murder Alley.
909. Your crime partner has escaped jail and seeks revenge.
910. Your new wife allows strange men to buy her gifts.
911. Your life’s a dead end street; you cannot turn around.
912. Your existence is a circle that adds up to zero.
913. You’ve committed no crime; but your life is a crime.
914. Thirty years of hatred keeps you warm; trouble is all you know.
915. You eat their anger and excrete pure hatred.
916. Fool–you’re practically telling them where to stick the knife.
917. You spent your whole life. Payoff–a big fat goose egg.
918. Nothing burns in you but a cold hard flame of emptiness.
919. You’re no longer in the picture–but you never were.
920. They see nothing in your eyes because your soul is dead.
921. The path is full of enormous bumps–you feel every one.
922. You’ve a long walk ahead of you. Better walk faster. Run!
923. If you fall, nobody, but nobody, will pick you back up.
924. Your mother will be reduced to working in a Waffle House.
925. They are through with plotting revenge; they are ready to act.
926. That sinking feeling will continue for the rest of your life.
927. How can you escape when you can’t even move?
928. The system works. It just doesn’t work for you.
929. Your sole happiness consists in enduring a miserable existence.
930. You didn’t start the fire–nor can you put it out.
931. Once you’re out of the picture, the facts will add up.
932. Prosperity is around the corner but you’re at a dead end.
933. You’re a tough nut, but you’re up against The Nutcracker.
934. Santa never came to your house–wrong neighborhood.
935. You think they’re on your side; they never were.
936. Your own brother sold you out–for a bottle of rotgut.
937. You don’t care about yourself–They’ll take care of you.
938. Every double-crosser in town knows you’re in it, deep.
939. You are a never-wuzzer with delusions of has-been.
940. Every cheap dame around has told you to Amscray.
941. They’ll steal your inventions, then sue you for plagiarism.
942. That Barmaid with the Panther Eyes has her hooks in deep.
943. You’re a champion swimmer–when you dive into that bottle.
944. They all know you’re very busy–busy with them reefers.
945. You pushed her away without meaning to. She’s gone forever.
946. The competition you must eliminate had the same idea–first.
947. Your mind is racing–but it isn’t built for speed.
948. You hate their so-called “lies”–but they’re telling the truth.
949. She had a heart of Gold. Now she’s full of Lead.
950. You hocked your wedding ring. Pusher sold you baby laxative.
951. You’re a sucker–there’s no percentage in wising you up.
952. You drove the getaway car–all the way to Argentina.
953. Dirty cops, flirty dames, bloody money, cold stiffs, tommy guns–death.
954. Some rob you with a shotgun; some with an even bigger shotgun.
955. No one is innocent–least of all, you.
956. Your love is not unique–it isn’t even love.
957. You are headed, not for the top, but right back to the bottom.
958. You’re a dead man, Jim–even if you don’t know it yet.
959. It’s too late to change–nobody cures a fried egg.
960. While the sun shines the moon plots your downfall.
961. They DID kill the Umpire–and you’re next, Sucker.
962. You shouldn’t have gotten involved–now there’s no way out.
963. Your new wife’s jealous ex-boyfriend is known as “Psycho”.
964. You will be hated for no other reason than being born.
965. Your compromise will permanently embitter both parties.
966. You “don’t believe in winners and losers”? That’s loser talk.
967. You don’t sweat much–for a guilty man.
968. Many more killers will be closing in real soon.
969. Tomorrow is another day–but you won’t live to see it.
970. They don’t even care enough to end your misery.
971. Thirteen? Nowadays all numbers are unlucky for you.
972. The Champ is very jealous of your pretty face.
973. Once an acid casualty–soon you’ll be a real one.
974. “Avid fan of heroin” is not a compliment.
975. The only happy people you ever see are on television.
976. Your murderous psychosis is actually the least of your problems.
977. Women look into your eyes and see only a dead man.
978. Slob–your wife convinces a hungry drifter to murder you.
979. You’re not one of God’s Children, but the Devil’s Bastard.
980. God is dead–and very soon you will also die.
981. Police say your murder technique is trite and derivative.
982. The truth won’t set you free–you’ll get the Chair.
983. God never helped you before, and He’s forgotten you now.
984. You’ll leave it all behind–but there’s nothing ahead for you.
985. They taught you to be bad, but not strong.
986. You think you’ve seen everything, but you’ve seen nothing.
987. Impossible for you to go crazy–you were born that way.
988. Your story might have been happy but for blind chance.
989. 100 little things that didn’t matter; one big thing fatally left undone.
990. It’s the last inning of your life. Score: 0-0.
991. You’ll hand it all over, but they’ll kill you anyway.
992. You really are a damned fool–you understand nothing.
993. You’re an evil influence on all your so-called friends.
994. Involuntary manslaughter? Nothing doing. You’re going to fry.
995. Over your dead body? What will be, will be.
996. Keep a stiff upper lip–they’ll destroy the lower one.
997. All humanity has declared total war on you alone.
998. It’s not the end of the world–just your world.
999. There’s always a bright side–until they blind you.
1000. She kicked you in the heart–and broke her leg.

22. PREJUDICES
At wild parties gentlemen are encouraged to wear neckties, so they aren’t mistaken for drunken bums.

Chocolate milk–the crack cocaine of the Kindergarten set.

Some Art is a Death’s Head Moth: It repels the Masses the better to attract the Cognoscenti.

A hot dog with ketchup: So nice when hog maws, gristle, and vinegar
can resolve their differences and learn to work together.

Love is the antithesis of betrayal. Or so we are led to believe.

“Who’s my itsy-bitsy snorgy-porgie sugar-booger snookie-wookie
sooty-footie-wootie snorbert snodgers snuggy-wuggy wuggums?” I’m
betting that these are words which Stalin never said.

Before you condemn anybody, first, look deep, into your own heart. And
THEN condemn them.

This is a job for CRAaaaazy Man!!! Ha ha ha ha ha…BOO HOO HOO…ha ha HAA!!!

I wish there were some way we could invent some more reliable statistics.

All police dramas are essentially narratives in praise of show trials.

You have put on your blindfold and you call it your philosophy.

There is a vast vast fortune to be made in saving the world from
corporate greed and arrogance.

The liberal nearly always feels obliged to apologize for pointing out the shortcomings of his opponent. The conservative usually has no such scruples. Therein lies a major distinction between the two camps.

It’s a new world every day. The problem? Is that people remain the same.

Children used to ask, “What is that doggie doing?” Now they ask, “What is that computer doing?”

24. A CHARMING TRUE STORY
I was working in a restaurant and a woman came in with her baby and started breast feeding. So I told her, “Ma’am, I’m sorry–but we don’t permit beverages brought in from the outside.”

25. A DROLL OPINION
What were once cliches may eventually become oxymorons. Cruel to be kind; Swingin’ London; The Liberal Consensus.

26. BUMPER STICKERS FOR THE APATHETIC
Beer Drinkers Are Fat.
My Philosophy Fits on a Bumper–What Does That Tell You?
If You Can Read This, You Must Be Literate

27. BUMPER STICKERS IN HEAVEN
I Brake for Celestial Choirs
My Other Car is the Chariot of the Sun
My Co-Pilot IS God

28. BUMPER STICKERS IN HELL
My Other Car’s a Pitchfork
Ask Me About My Eternal Torment
Honk If You Betrayed OUR LORD

29. FIFTY-TWO BAD IDEAS FOR TELEVISION SHOWS
THE MIGHTY THORAZINE
WHEN NEGROES ATTACK
MEASURE MY TURTLE HEAD
THE NEW ADVENTURES OF IMPORTANT WHITE MAN
LET’S TORCH A HOBO
OLD MAN CAN’T
THE GRANDIOSE POORMOUTH SHOW
CHIMP-BAITING WITH WOLVES
THE LEGEND OF STABBITY MCSTAB
PROJECT MALLRAT
SLEEPY-EYED JOHN!
BRO AND MO
WORLD’S MOST INHUMANE RECIPES
PIMP MY GRANDMOTHER
MY SON THE BURN VICTIM!
THE FAT OLD WHITE COP AND THE SKINNY YOUNG BLACK COP
THIS OLD CRACKHOUSE
THE MORBIDLY OBESE WORKHORSE AND HIS SLUTTY WIFE SHOW
OPRAHAMMERGAU
THE NEW ADVENTURES OF MONTEREY JACK
EAT MY WIFE!
SHITHOUSE MOUSE
THE FAST AND FRABJOUS
MY OLD MAN’S A FATSO!
GOD HATES UGLY BABIES
MOMMY DRINKS BECAUSE YOU CRY
STALIN’S FUNNIEST HOME VIDEOS
LAW AND ORDER SUV
CHUNKS FROM THE MIDGET’S HIGH CHAIR
CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY
MEET THE HOOK!
BLOWFLY BUFFET
THE IMPORTANCE OF CONCRETE STATISTICS
LIPOSUCTION JUNCTION
CEASE TO EXIST!
KNIGHTS IN SATAN’S SERVICE
THE GARBAGE PEOPLE
COPS: CLICK IT OR TICKET
CATHARSIS THE CAT AND HERMENEUTICS THE MOUSE
THE AGONY OF THE FEET
LINCOLN’S DICK
GUH, WHAT A CANAL!
LET THE LIQUOR DO THE TALKING
WHEEZY ‘N’ STUMPY
FATTY YOU WITH YOUR THICK FACE HAVE HURT MY INSTEP
THE LEAGUE OF PRESIDENTIAL GHOSTS
WHAT’LL WE DO WITH A BABY-O
THE TREASON OF THE DALAI LAMA
COUSIN CATERPILLAR
YOU COULD WIN A HUNDRED DOLLARS!
HEY CRACKHEAD!
WHEN COUSINS MARRY!

30. THE MODERN WISDOM ALMANAC. ARCHIVE:
2007: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977004217
2008: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977221496
2009: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977565421
2010: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977969402
2011: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474978851374
2012: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474980950364
2013: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474981829985

Advertisements

THE INFORMATION #752 OCTOBER 4, 2013

THE INFORMATION
#752 OCTOBER 4, 2013
Copyright 2013 FRANCIS DIMENNO
http://dimenno.gather.com
francisdimenno@yahoo.com

 https://dimenno.wordpress.com

LONDON

Then thro’ the world a wretched vagrant roam,
For where can starving merit find a home?–Sml. Johnson

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER EIGHT: PART TWELVE: THE FALL

Time was when I would waken myself early on Saturday morning and go down to the parlor of the whorehouse and drain the glasses of cocktails and shots of raw whiskey as was left over from the night before. Then I would stagger down the street and hop on the back of the trolley to Mistake Island, where the Carnival was camped during the off season. There was all sorts of moth-eaten and fly-blown exhibits there, and while I was foozled with my head full of fumes I would amuse myself in all sorts of kiddie ways. Privacy for young lovers was at a premium back in those days. So I would walk through the tunnel of love, and see in the shimmering water the discarded French letters left by young couples who engaged in clandestine woo.

I would be there every Saturday while the weather was good and even when it wasn’t. I would stare at the frozen wooden horses of the busted down merry-go-round so long and so intently I could almost imagine I could see the worms crawling out of the carved wooden faces of the petrified nags.

 

The Freak Show was my special favorite. Pretty soon I got to be a fixture and so it got so I would run errands for the freaks and the straw boss would let me attend the show for nothing and I was even allowed after a spell to hang about the tent when the Freaks were off duty between shows. I wish I could tell you that they all had interesting stories, but they seemed to spend most of their off-duty time talking a dram of liquor—not so much as to make them sloppy, but to maintain an easy glow—and most of what they had to say was to complain about the customers—‘Rubes” they called them—and their skinflint and cheating ways.

 

Didja hear, they would say, about the rube who said we picked his pocket and called for Johnny Law and then he later finds out he left his wallet at home? Did you hear about the rube as said we cheated him only he was too drunk to even see straight and he brought Johnny Law to bear only we chilled him with a double saw and the straw boss suggested he ‘eschew’ carny games ‘for the futurity’—that Shermy really has the gift of blarney! Didja hear that the rube wanted to see the Donniker dance, not knowin’ and maybe not even caring that a Donniker is a shithouse?

 

And what about the feebs who say the Carny is a filthy pesthole and turn the air blue with oaths and dirty words and all in the presence of women and small children, something even a carny wouldna never do? 

Can you believe how stupid some of the people who come to the carny can be? They leave their tots and even their babies in the strollers unattended and squawk and beller when they find them missing, not knowing or caring that no carny worker worth his salt would ever so much as touch the hair on the head of a little babe and it was the Elsie the Beautiful Fat Girl as took ‘em to her tent to watch over ‘em until their kinfolk could claim ‘em. Howzabout the Rube as wanted to pick a fight with the Calabrian Strong Boy, not knowing that the big lug for all his muscles is one of the most peaceful and quiet fellers there is? We had to call in Shermy to put the kibosh on the louse with the old Chicago cross-arm—you wanna see how we done it? You creep up behind ‘em and you take your left foot and you kick ‘em under the left knee and you take your right arm and grab ‘em tight around the belly and you wrap your left arm around their throat—works on women too, but with them you got to be more careful and unless they’re awful drunk you can usually chill ‘em by grapping ‘em by the hair and pressing a wet towel filled with ice to the back of their neck—they mostly never knows what hit ‘em in either case and you can hustle ‘em out of there before it becomes a real Hey Rube variety of beef. Your little clubeen or lead sap that you keep rolled up in a newspaper is one of your best friends—a real persuader for rubes as want to start trouble, ‘specially rowdy boys—puts the chill on their sass while to all the world it looks like you’re merely swatting the rascal with a rolled up paper.

 

Knowing what I know now, I wouldna set up camp near any carny, and never–in a million years–would I ever set foot on any carny ride. Folks as has skilled positions in the carny is mostly crazy, and the unskilled labor is nine times out of ten either totally bughouse or well on their way. Carny rides are built to look good, but they sure as hell ain’t built to last. Any kind of ride that’s jerry-rigged by drunks and hopheads is bound to fall apart, and sooner rather than later. Y’want my advice about them rides? Don’t do it. That’s all. Just don’t do it. Carny folks is crazy. A bunch of lunakicks. Why is that, you ask? Carny folk need to travel a lot, and that makes for a very unsettled mind. That’s first and foremost. Second, they don’t trust nobody else but another Carny, and not even then. People don’t take to the carny life because they’re some kind of genius. A high school graduate is as rare as a two-headed gorilla among the carny crew. I’d say at least half of them couldn’t read ner write any better than a fourth grader, which is when most of them dropped out of school, at around the age of eight or nine. Fella who makes it to 8th grade is known as “Doc.”

Carnies often go back two or three generations. Very few people choose that life unless they are born and bred to it, or they have no other choice. Rum-dum old hoboes with no other place to roost; war vets addicted to Morph; escaped cons on the run; lammisters from bad marriages or even worse fixes and beefs; there’s your carny crew in a nutshell. Their whole existence is based around cheating people and taking their money; small wonder they’re so cynical; that’s why the rubes and square Johns stick in their craw. Carnies is just the kind of folks you wouldn’t pick to teach your young ‘en how to make his way in the cold world; and yet, there I was. Not my fault that Red Mary’s whorehouse was a very short trolley ride away. After a goodly while I couldn’t get enough of the carny; it was just about the most romantic thing I could imagine. But deadly to my hopes of ever amounting to anything good or decent. That was what I didn’t know. Until it was well nigh too late.

http://www.thenoiseboard.com/index.php?showtopic=218311&st=50

1*SALUTATION 

RUFUS & CHAKA KHAN

TELL ME SOMETHING GOOD

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pR–nDR88b0

 

2*REFERENCE

BANNED BOOKS WEEK READ-OUT

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pR–nDR88b0

3*HUMOR

ROBERT ANTON WILSON

http://disinfo.com/2013/09/robert-anton-wilson-dont-believe-anybody-elses-bs/

4*NOVELTY

100 GREATEST MOVIES OF THE 1960S

http://www.listchallenges.com/100-greatest-movies-of-the-1960s?ref=share

 

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST

REPUBLICANS WHO HATE FOOD STAMPS

http://sojo.net/blogs/2013/09/20/meet-republicans-who-voted-slash-40-billion-food-stamps-program

6* DAILY UTILITY

POLICE AND SOCIAL MEDIA

http://www.npr.org/blogs/alltechconsidered/2013/09/22/223813152/the-promises-and-pitfalls-of-social-media-for-police?utm_campaign=nprfacebook&utm_source=npr&utm_medium=facebook

 7*CARTOON

BEATNIK GLOSSARY

http://www.jeffbridges.com/beatnik.html

8*PRESCRIPTION

YOUR STATE SUCKS

http://disinfo.com/2013/09/state-sucks-heres/

9*RUMOR PATROL

MEN FAKE INTEREST IN SPORTS

http://disinfo.com/2013/09/nine-ten-men-say-fake-interest-sports/

10* LAGNIAPPE

IN DEFENSE OF GORDON RAMSEY

Contrary to popular opinion, certyain Amerocans of a decided masochistic bent apparently enjoy being hectored by rude, chivvying Brits.
http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/food/2013/09/gordon_ramsay_masterchef_junior_a_defense_of_the_world_s_most_hated_culinary.html

11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA
BILLY JOEL
What about Billy Joel? That bald-headed fartsnatcher? That googly-eyed, leather-faced dolt and the ridiculous pride he takes in his nauseating songs? When performing them, he displays the rapt attentiveness of a toddler examining his own ripe turd; the bold facial expressions of a fat aristocratic midget who’s about to commit himself to a monastery after his midget wife has just been fatally mauled by a powder-gray weimaraner, and the fascinated self-regard of a magpie ducking its head and pecking at a shiny piece of bottleneck it has just extruded from a flophouse dumpster.

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE. 710.

BANNED BOOKS WEEK: RECOMMENDED READING

THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN. By Mark Twain.
BELOVED. By Toni Morrison.
THE BLUEST EYE. By Toni Morrison.
BRAVE NEW WORLD. By Aldous Huxley.
THE CATCHER IN THE RYE. By J.D. Salinger.
LOLITA. By Vladimir Nabokov.
THE LOVELY BONES. By Alice Sebold.
ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST. By Ken Kesey.
OF MICE AND MEN. By John Steinbeck.
SLAUGHTERHOUSE-5. By Kurt Vonnegut.
SONG OF SOLOMON. By Toni Morrison.
THE THINGS THEY CARRIED. By Tim O’Brien.
TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. By Harper Lee.

All books have been drawn from the American Library Associations list of The Top 100 Banned and Challenged Books.

THE INFORMATION #751 SEPTEMBER 27, 2013

THE INFORMATION
#751 SEPTEMBER 27, 2013
Copyright 2013 FRANCIS DIMENNO
http://dimenno.gather.com
francisdimenno@yahoo.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

THE NOVELIST
“We’re all cheats and liars, really. And the novelist can show just how and why.” —James Jones

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER EIGHT: PART ELEVEN: THE FALL

Back when I was your age, Yob—about thirteen—a punk kid–I was getting on to be quite a young man, and of course I thought I knew better, and I paid me no heed to women folk as said I ought to be good and go to school and steer myself clear of bad companions and all that palaver.

When you get to be that age, as you probably well know, growed-up people appear stupid and almost less than human, and the rot that seeps from out of their pie-holes seems pitiable and always always wrong. Why WOULDN’T any red-blooded boy want to hang out with the low-lifes, the rebels, the cripples and the queer ones? They were the most interesting people around, and at that age you have a strong hankering to see the world in all its glories and defeats and learn its ways, however rotten and riotous. The one thing you don’t want ner need is to hang about with the sanctimonious crew, with their Bible-thumping and watered-down ginger-beer and their holier-than-thou preachments. Little mummies, they be; old men in training; silly cardboard people who play with paper dolls instead of going out into the world and viewing life as people live it.

I didn’t know then that to hob-nob with the underworld people would mean a bad reputation and that folks will allus talk and a lad can be a bit of a tearaway and people will wink but that if you spend too much time with the bad crowd then pretty soon you begin to adopt all their outlook on life and your mind is crippled with bad thoughts and you have no faith in any man but only see them for what they do–through the lens of what’s in it for them–and pretty soon your own actions become What’s In It For Me.

But this don’t happen all at once. The mind is a terrible thing, Yob; it can fool its owner–you yourself–much more easy than it can be used to make a fool of another different man. You can tell a lie and never get caught only to yourself alone.

So you tell yourself, well, I’m only hanging about with The Bad Crowd so I can put the skids on Smash Conklin, because he has gone back to plaguing Red Mary, who for all her faults, her terrible drinking and her scary madness, was the closest thing to a mother I ever had.

I must have been slowly going mad myself, when I think back on it. Early in the morning when nobody was looking I had taken to polishing off the half-finished drinks of the sporting men and whoremongers and all too soon I had developed quite a taste for the hard stuff myself. Now, back in them days, most every kiddie took a sip or two of Paw’s beer when he rushed the growler on Saturday night; nobody thought much about it one way or t’other; t’weren’t no big thing, but not many small boys was in the habit of knocking off shots of raw whiskey like I grew to be.

It was a different world back then; most everyone was on the dope in one way or another. Never me, though; for a reason I’ll tell you later. But the Ladies of Joy in the whorehouse was all a slave to one kind of bad habit or t’other, though Red Mary tried to get the girls to show some restraint and use the stuff only in the privacy of their rooms. When you set out to stupefy yourself, I learned, t’was always best to have some form of privacy anyway, because that’s when you’re at your most vulnerable. It wouldn’t surprise me if when cavemen got foozled they would go all the way to the back of the cave and snooze it off while they was out of the eyeshot and the clubbing range of the other drunken Club Men.

Many of them gals back then was very fond of chloral. They’d be unable to sleep on account of they drank so much, so they would take chloral to knock themselves out and before too long they wouldn’t be able to sleep at all without them taking larger and larger doses of the awful stuff.

One or two of the more fortunate whores grew very fond instead of Piso’s Cure, which was a tincture of cannabis indica, and was generally strong enough to knock ‘em right out after a hard night of whorin’.

Some of ‘em took to the chloroform, and others, still worse, to the ether, though mostly they sniffed it; very few actually drank the stuff, and if they did, they didn’t last long; Red Mary hated the stuff because you could smell an ether user clear across town and snuffing it just once made you uncommon stupid; like a drunkard, only ten times so. The whores on ether would start out with red cheeks and shiny hair and looking for all the world like bright and beautiful maidens. Once they truly started in, however, their faces would grow blotchy and rugged-looking and you could start to see to the bones of their skull ‘neath the hollows of their haunted black eyes. Something of the fury in those lively eyes was taken away for good and all once they started using the nauseating stuff, and they would present only a dull and lifeless face to all their clientele.

You see, whores was none too smart to begin with, else they would of found some Square John who would feed and water ‘em–and quit earning their living on their backs—and many of the smarter ones did—but the ones who got sunk in drink and dissipation was doomed to a tragic and early end, and for many of them the end came because they wanted it to and not out of any accident.

You would think that growing up in such a place would make me want to go to school and learn my lessons and the rule of three—but there you would be mistaken. The darker the world around me was revealed to be, the more I liked it and the more I wanted to learn about it—the darkness of it most of all. And it wouldn’t be too long before I’d get my wish—in spades.

Previous: http://www.thenoiseboard.com/index.php?showtopic=218311&st=50

1*SALUTATION
YOUNGBLOODS
DARKNESS, DARKNESS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kLVWxuMsiDQ

2*REFERENCE
BOOKLESS LIBRARY OPENS IN TEXAS
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2013/09/14/222442870/bookless-public-library-opens-in-texas?utm_campaign=nprfacebook&utm_source=npr&utm_medium=facebook

3*HUMOR
1899 HORSEY HORSELESS
http://content.time.com/time/specials/2007/article/0,28804,1658545_1657686_1657662,00.html

4*NOVELTY
DC’S WAR ON EVERYBODY
http://www.eonism.net/2013/09/08/dcs-war-on-everybody/?fb_source=pubv1

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST
THE FINANCIAL CRISIS YET TO COME
http://disinfo.com/2013/09/the-financial-crisis-is-not-over-the-worst-is-yet-to-come/

6* DAILY UTILITY
12 MOST AWFUL PRODUCTS MADE MY MONSANTO
http://disinfo.com/2013/04/most-awful-products-made-by-monsanto/

7*CARTOON
COMICS RESEARCH
http://comicsresearch.org/libraries.html#libraries

8*PRESCRIPTION
FOURTEEN ODDBALL REASONS YOU’RE NOT DEAD YET
http://www.slate.com/articles/health_and_science/science_of_longevity/2013/09/life_saving_inventions_people_and_ideas_cotton_shoes_fluoride_the_clean.html

9*RUMOR PATROL
HITLER IN HOLLYWOOD
http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/books/2013/09/16/130916crbo_books_denby?currentPage=all

10* LAGNIAPPE
CARTOON GUIDE TO ASSAD
http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/foreigners/2012/02/bashar_al_assad_syria_s_autocratic_ophthalmologist.html

11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA
MAD MEN, SEASON SEVEN
http://www.avclub.com/articles/how-season-six-of-mad-men-blew-up-the-show-and-set,99536/

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE. 709.
THE FRENCH HUGUENOT MENACE!
Far too little mention has been made of the French Huguenot menace. The DuPonts, who dominate chemicals and Delaware? HUGUENOTS! The Purdues, who run the military-industrial-battery chicken complex? HUGUENOTS! Who were responsible for importing South African wines into the United States? HUGUENOTS! Apartheid and Krueggerands! Free Nelson Mandela!! And–most sinister of all–who dominates the Irish Lace industry? HUGUENOTS! And who were the Kennedys? Lace-curtain Irish! Proof positive that HUGUENOTS were behind the Kennedy assassination!

THE INFORMATION #750 SEPTEMBER 20, 2013

THE INFORMATION
#750 SEPTEMBER 20, 2013
Copyright 2013 FRANCIS DIMENNO
http://dimenno.gather.com
francisdimenno@yahoo.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

NEWSPAPERS
“Are there no amusements? Yes. … What are the fifty newspapers, which those precocious urchins are bawling down the street, and which are kept filed within, what are they but amusements? Not vapid, waterish amusements, but good strong stuff; dealing in round abuse and blackguard names; pulling off the roofs of private houses, as the Halting Devil did in Spain; pimping and pandering for all degrees of vicious taste, and gorging with coined lies the most voracious maw; imputing to every man in public life the coarsest and the vilest motives; scaring away from the stabbed and prostrate body-politic, every Samaritan of clear conscience and good deeds; and setting on, with yell and whistle and the clapping of foul hands, the vilest vermin and worst birds of prey. — No amusements!”—Charles Dickens

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER EIGHT: PART TEN: THE FALL

How did the Seven Stars Tavern and Doss House stay in business? Let me set the scene of the first time I ever seen it. Like it was yesterday I remember it. A damp evening in late autumn and I was still living there with poor Red Mary in her house of ill repute. One gray evening she was out drinking in Noxtown and she unaccountably took me along with her—she was already half-mad with worry over Smash Conklin and all the rest. The basement dive was dark and woody, with panels of thick glass for upper windows facing the street. It smelt of smoke and sour beer and greasy fried fish. It was hard by the Salt River. Tooting of riverboats. Snarls and hardy-har-hars of hoary old lushermen. I was given a copper penny to tip the piano player. I asked him to play the only song I knew of: “After the Ball.” A tear sprang in Red Mary’s eye on hearing the strains of that sentimental air and she whisked me out of there toot sweet and never took me back there again and told me to never again set foot in the place or she would tan my hide—she got some of her odd turns of phrase from her time down South plying the Riverboat trade but for the most part her lingo came from the demis and lallygags and ladies of joy she overseen on a daily basis.

Funny the things we remember—or refuse to forget.

But her baleful stares and threatenings never did stop me none from doing as I pleased, ner going back there on my own, to see what I could see. Believe me when I tell you, Yob, that there were fights in that saloon that lasted the whole night long—Yekkmen crazed from swilling coffin varnish and people getting their ears chawed off and their heads bashed in with table legs used as clubs and all on the slightest pretext—the slightest pretext–while at the same time coke fiends snorted rocket powder out of asthma bottles and men with beaver hats posed low over their eyes picked pockets–and all the while knocked out drunks lay snoozing in the corner, snoring with their toothless mouths wide open and their dusty pockets turned inside out. At the fag-end of the night I seen dead bodies being rolled out the door to the side alley and carted away in hand-drawn wagons. I twigged to Yobs of my age—thirteen and fourteen–swilling bumbo and fighting between ‘em in loud after-hours brawls out in the back alley, in the long shadows throwed by gaslight lamps, with the Yekkmen laying bets and urging them on. Believe me when I tell you I seen it all–and it was all too much for any man, and more so a lad of my tender years.

How is it that the coppers in the precinct house didn’t shut ‘em all down, all these cribs and low dives? The opium joints and bed bug cribs and red light mansions and Places like French May’s and The Golden Dollar and the International House? The answer was plain as the pimple on your nose. You learn your way around soon enough if you got eyes to see and ears to listen. Tipsy Smith was under the protection of Captain Tom Aston. That came with a cost. Free whiskey drinks for all the coppers. Free bottles of the good ole stuffy-wuffy for the Cap’n. And a large passel of greenbacks changing hands once a month and every month. T’was ever thus. Scratch my back, et cetera.

A deal with the very devil—that’s what life was, and is. And we all make those deals; Yob; make ‘em every day, and these very same deals are made the world over, from Mount Venus to Maracaibo. We are all proud of things which should shame us, like money ill-got, and ashamed of things that should make us proud, like virtuous poverty. Or so the preacher says. I wouldn’t know. I been poor but never virtuous; I’ve had money but I was never proud.

Do you want to know the Yobs as has got the whole thing all sewn up? They is always high up in the Masons, and the Moose, and the Elks, and they always stood high up in the machine. Unless you was a high up yourself, you dealt with them only through clerks and secretaries and what were called supernumeraries. Most tripper-uppers worked at night; I fast twigged that THESE fine trots stole money from the city in broad daylight, and if you tiffed with them, so what? What are you going to do about it?
How to get in good with one of them was key to my master plan to get back at Smash Conklin for plaguing me and Red Mary. How to get one of ‘em to tumble to my plan was my problem. Because all these doors led right to the Big Man, Cokey Stolas, He Whose Name Must Not Be Mentioned; He Who Must Be Obeyed. To hear some men tell it, we lived only by his permission in the world of his moves. He controlled the newspapers, the Yekkmen, the Mayor, the banks, and so on. He controlled the electric company, the drug stores, and the coal companies. A dragon loving, satanic Bohemian. Speak his name and ye be damned. We were his chattel. He ran the Big Street AND the Little Store. And me, who was I? A mere lad. Am I going to bend him to my will? Dream on, Yob, said my self to myself.

But if I couldn’t dub the jigger and humbug him in some way then I was trumped. I decided that whatever I decided to do, I ought first to try it on a dog and if the dog didn’t die then maybe Baby WOULD get a new pair of shoes.

I may have been only a kiddie but old enough to of knowed that if any a Man Jack of ‘em just happened to be a stray Tup on the loose then I could fix ‘em up with Little Jane or one of Red Mary’s other girls and they would blab to the doxy and I could learn some interesting things and then we would see what we would see. Maybe I could ask one of the whores to do my work outright—but which?

It was then that I lighted on Little Jane. She was one of them young sentimental tarts that thought I was a cute customer when I first moved in with Red Mary and was sweet on me as a result and one night I showed her I wasn’t a little boy no more and she and I came to an understanding and before long I knew that she would do anything that I wanted, not that the threat was ever there, but I knowed that if I ever told Red Mary about how Little Jane took my cherry there would be hell to pay for Little Jane, and she knowed it too.
From there it was just a matter of figuring out who to use to take down Smash Conklin, which was the burning desire of my newly awakened soul. Now, it happened that most of the newspaper reporters in town was beholden to the Big Man—it goes without saying that nearly all of ‘em was sports as frequented Prostitutes. Little Jane gave it away free to one of these Yobs, a Mort named Tommy Dodd, a turfside scribe who liked jazzing prosties more than standing rounds or even betting on the ponies. Little Jane flattered this fly rogue as a big man who knew all the players, and in return he gave up the skinny on who was on the ins and who was on the outs. He spilled that as of late it was Beau Nash who had gotten on the bad side of the Big Man by being greedy and roughing up some of the prosties in his stable too bad and causing all kinds of small trouble. I treasured up this ken and filed it away to use for another time–little knowing that the day would come sooner…rather than later.

Previous: http://www.thenoiseboard.com/index.php?showtopic=218311&st=50

1*SALUTATION
THE MONKEES
RANDY SCOUSE GIT
https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=ejw_LOi-nhk

2*REFERENCE
WHAT DO YOU CALL A GROUP OF…?
http://www.npwrc.usgs.gov/about/faqs/animals/names.htm

3*HUMOR
Borrah Minevitch & His Harmonica Rascals
Boxcar Rhapsody (1942)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pf2Ohtehaoc

4*NOVELTY
Onitsha market literature
http://onitsha.diglib.ku.edu/tdc/descriptions/c3309.htm

ALSO SEE:
LIFE AND MONEY TURNS MAN UP AND DOWN
…by Sunday O. Olisah, also known as “the Strong Man of the Pen,”. An example of Onitsha Market Literature.
http://onitsha.diglib.ku.edu/pdf/ksrl.c3309.pdf

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST
JOHN CARPENTER’S ‘THEY LIVE’ TURNS 25
http://disinfo.com/2013/09/john-carpenters-they-live-turns-twenty-five/

6* DAILY UTILITY
NEW ENGLAND FALL FOLIAGE FORECAST
http://www.yankeemagazine.com/new-england-foliage/updated-new-england-fall-foliage-forecast

7*CARTOON
VINTAGE ADS FOR LIBRARIES AND BOOKS
http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/09/11/vintage-ads-for-libraries-and-reading/

8*PRESCRIPTION
Larry’s Cartoon Vault: Remembering Willy Murphy larryrippeeandmollyreaart.blogspot.com/2013/03/larrys-cartoon-vault-remembering-willy.html

ALSO SEE:
COMICS BLOGS:
http://aquamanrules.blogspot.com/2010_01_01_archive.html

9*RUMOR PATROL
MOST POPULAR SWEAR WORDS ON FACEBOOK
http://www.slate.com/blogs/lexicon_valley/2013/09/11/top_swear_words_most_popular_curse_words_on_facebook.html

10* LAGNIAPPE
DRUG SONGS
THE BEES
VOICES GREEN AND PURPLE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryjKVmBxkX4

THE CRAMPS
DRUG TRAIN
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pPhmjHZsccU

THE FEE-FI-FOUR PLUS TWO
I WANT TO COME BACK FROM THE WORLD OF LSD
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=usLNbQQyFTE

THE TRAITS
HIGH ON A CLOUD
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABodywkt7ks

THE CHARLATANS
CODINE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXq9dKRHscQ

THE MAGIC MUSHROOMS
LET THE RAIN BE ME
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VjQW9dd7ZXc

11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA
THE NOVEL: AN ALTERNATIVE HISTORY 1600-1800. BY STEVEN MOORE.
This is a book more to be savored rather than devoured; I can only hope that the pace at which I am reading it strikes a happy medium between the two extremes.

Moore has presented a menu for novel lovers–a witty and informative text; a scrupulously annotated reading list for a leisurely retirement or a grandly ambitious autodidact.

What’s good about this book and his previous volume is that he manages to engage the reader’s interest in books which it is likely they have never read. Furthermore, his judgment seems eminently sound when discussing less abstruse texts. In particular, I find myself in full agreement with his assessment of Don Quixote as both a postmodernist text and a rattlebag of authorial out-takes.

I am already anticipating volume three. I am certain it will be well worth the wait.

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE. 705.
INSTANT ANALYSIS
Are television and newspaper and online commentators interesting? Yes, if by ‘interesting’ you mean partisan and slanted. I don’t pretend that I am fair and balanced in every particular, but I am allergic to cant, have developed a pretty good bullshit detector, and furthermore, I am more than willing to correct course when I am convinced that I am in error. I don’t merely dismiss any assessment which is contrary to what I think. I try to assess it for flaws, and if and when I find any, I try to decide whether the flaws outweigh the merits. Anybody who is media literate ought to be able to detect a superficial argument which merely serves to justify a partisan attack. In fact, they taught us how to do that in Freshman high school English. Of course, the crypto-Mandarin shouting heads and water spaniel rhetoricians well trained to fetch and carry always dumb down their approach, so their approach is the exact opposite of that taken by historical scholarship. Fact is, these instant analysis pieces are often simply wrong. Blinkered in their analysis of the short view; purblind in their analysis of the long view. Full of ad hominem flackery. Reactionary humbug. And Ice Cream Soldier sententiousness. Guilty of mere cant. Which has cant become simply received opinion. Why can’t so-called individualists look past their cultural conditioning and try to think past it every once in a while? Cant: “hypocritical and sanctimonious talk, typically of a moral, religious, or political nature.” Is there anyone in favor of it? The sticking point is, who is brave (or arrogant) enough to deride it when it is all around us, like the air we breathe?

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE. 706.
9-11 COVERAGE
In 100 years, this era will be as obscure as the era of the Spanish-American War is today–a War which was a strike response against terrorist Brigands (“Remember the Maine”) followed by a ten-year Guerrilla War in the Philippines.

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE. 707.
VICTIMS
At least let us give victims the opportunity to choose their own terminology. And let us not get on a rhetorical high horse about people who are in circumstances less advantageous than our own. Ultimately, it is mere cant.

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE. 708.
NOSTALGIA
When people reach a certain age—usually by their fifties–they not only begin to feel nostalgia for the fads of their youth but are in a position to impose them upon others. Witness the 1940s and their fascination with the Gay 90s, and the short-lived 1920s flapper fad of the 1960s. This may or may not explain the recent fascination with 70s Prog Rock.

THE INFORMATION #749 SEPTEMBER 13, 2013

THE INFORMATION
#749 SEPTEMBER 13, 2013
Copyright 2013 FRANCIS DIMENNO
http://dimenno.gather.com
francisdimenno@yahoo.com

Better to have one tyrant 1000 miles away than a thousand tyrants one mile away.–Loyalist, ca. 1776

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER EIGHT: PART NINE: THE FALL

Now, the important thing to remember in this story is how these dirty rogues and roughnecks drove poor Red Mary more than half mad with worry and shame. Beau Nash had given her the inside meemies, even though she would admit it to no man. She started acting peculiar around me, the more so since I was always her pet. Started in to saying things like Maybe she would be better off if she was never borned, and maybe I would be better off if I was never borned, and one time I saw her trying to kill herself. And me. And everyone in the building. By lighting all the gas burners in the kitchen. Though lucky thing I caught her in time. Only then after I had opened the windows and made her lie down on the sofa in the parlor she commenced to talking out of her head and she continued at it all night long. Telling me things like she had always wanted a baby boy but she was all tore up inside and couldn’t have no kids. And she was a good girl before she ever got tangled up with menfolk. And she hated them all even young boys especially young boys because young boys always growed up to be young men and they always left their Maws behind and that I was no different even though I pretended to be and she knew I was a spy and I was sent by the Pinkertons to listen in on her conversations.

And then she got worse and said she couldn’t go out no more because every time she rode the trolley she could hear people talking about her and saying she was drunk even though she never touched a drop when she decided she had to get out although she drank plenty I noticed, and had begun to drink even more. She said it was because she was being persecuted by everybody. Said she tired. Said the reason she drank so much was owing to Beau Nasty trying to take over her stable and Cap’n Aston threatenin’ to run her in and Alderman Tyler threatenin’ to run her out of town and Coach Crump sayin’ he’d use his real estate contacts to buy up all the property around her and ruin her and Big Smash Conklin who always had it in for her from the start. She drank because all the other rascals who was pressuring her to pay them protection money. She said the Black Hand had marked her for murder and the Pinkertons was working in league with them to make it happen. She said she tried to tell the President of the United states about how she was being persecuted but he was too busy to answer her letters, and anyway, she was a bad girl and she deserved everything she was getting because the God of our fathers was a jealous God and she had defied his will by worshipping Moloch and being more concerned about makin; money than performing good works and it would serve her right if a trolley car jumped the tracks and ran her clean over because nobody can defy the wrath of the Savior, who cometh not with a word but with a sword.

Half of what she said made no sense but the other half must have had some hidden meaning buried in it somewhere. I tried to forget that night every day I’ve been alive but it haunts me down to this very day.

I am half crazy. I can’t get up. Please let me die. I want to die. Who tied my shoes together? Was it you, my bad boy? No, don’t leave. Let me tell you something. You know what? What? That’s what. Adam Tyler…took little Jane and tore her apart—in all the papers…you be the judge…and him a Grampaw…I’ll rip his face, the blonde beast. Don’t make no phony moves. Stop it Baby, oh stop it. He done it anyway. He done it and done it and done it. I’ll feed him my claws, I will. Thinking is not enough. Just do for him. Coach Crump…the fat hog…get out! Get out, devil! Should have poisoned his wine…Make him twist. Did he buy my house. I won’t sell to him. I won’t sell. Not for a million ducats. I’ll do for him yet. Nothing from nothing. Tom Aston…big loocher…help police! Twisted outside. I’m innocent. Not guilty. Not the face Tom, oh please, not the face Inside too…dirty copper…stop police! Please no don’t do this. Cut it out! I ain’t got another dime…I’d like to cut his throat. Dead soon. Enough is enough is enough is enough. Beau Nash…dirty cocksucker…him and his filthy practices…all the little girls and boys, too…I had nothing to do with it…I’ll plant my diggers in his dial face and his own Mother won’t know him. I’ll show him. I’ll show him. I’ll show him. But there’s nothing I can do. Who do I turn to? Smash Conklin…Love and love and love and love. Who am I? I’ll drop a paving stone on that Uglyface, and then I’ll laugh! He’s the worst one of all. Love and love and love. I don’t want ham. I’ll wave the red flag. He’s the worse of the lot. Get out of town! Please don’t ask me again, the answer is no, never. Who am I? Who am I? Who am I? And who the hell are you? Ugly child! You are trouble and you are in trouble and let me up, I don’t want you here, who needs you? You are one of the bad ones. I’ll give you a nickel only go. No please don’t leave me in this room. I can’t go out. Red Indians. Why didn’t you just pull out? Pull out, and spare me all the trouble. Forceps baby. Born under the sign of the Jack of Hearts. What did you say? I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you. I am more than half there. Please don’t tell. Thirty four and a half. You are an ungrateful child. The serpent’s tooth. Don’t bring me no brown spiders. Dirty boy, you might of knowed there was fleas. You got nothing one me. Pull him off! Pull him off! Pull him off! Baby Baby Baby. Baby Boy.

I stayed up with her raving like that all that night until finally she drank herself into a stupor and little Jane and me, we hauled her off to bed.

It was very shortly after that, that—well, that’s a story for another time.

There’s more to tell of all these men—Crump, Nasty, Tyler, Aston, Conklin–but that too will have to wait for another day.

But I’ll tell you this much right now: These men were never born to hang on the trine. Not in my lifetime, ner yours either, though Coach Crump is now in his 80s Adam Tyler and Coach Crump are long dead, and Beau Nasty died in prison back in ’49 on a murder beef. They was Yellofs as was Masons, and Oddfellows, and Elks—Yekkmen all, only with a more elevated racket.

Do you get it now, Yob? All the world’s a con and we are simply players—it’s kill or be killed–or sometimes you can hide out in the open–and be let alone–which is the best way of all to be—though it can’t last forever—it never does—you get to know people—some of them are trouble—no, not you, Yob—road buddies–they tangle you all up—they’re a branch on the forest floor that trips you over—they’re a swampy spot on your clearly blazed trail and you sink up to your knees in despair–and so when you walk you’d better allus keep one foot clear–or you’ll be half dead afore another soul will find you.

Remember Yob—learn from my mistakes–no matter how big you are—you are involved in the flow of time—you are forbidden to interfere with others—it’s a bad idea anyway—only God can make those decisions—let the fly loose from the web—and what will the spider eat?

1*SALUTATION
DINAH WASHINGTON
TV IS THE THING THIS YEAR

2*REFERENCE
LIBRARY THING DEWEY SYSTEM SEARCH DEMO
http://www.librarything.com/mds/0

3*HUMOR
WALMART BINGO

4*NOVELTY
SLAVERY MAP
http://www.slate.com/blogs/the_vault/2013/09/04/abraham_lincoln_the_president_used_this_map_to_see_where_slavery_was_strongest.html

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST
MONSANTO’S DIRTY DOZEN PRODUCTS
http://gmo-awareness.com/2011/05/12/monsanto-dirty-dozen/

ALSO SEE:
WHAT ASPARTAME IS MADE OF
http://www.metro.us/newyork/news/2013/08/27/patent-confirms-aspartame-is-made-from-bacteria-feces/

6* DAILY UTILITY
BOB DYLAN SELF PORTRAIT
http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2013/08/bob_dylan_s_another_self_portrait_the_new_release_casts_light_on_dylan_s.html

ALSO SEE:
DAYS OF 49

7*CARTOON
AGENCE EUREKA
http://bibigreycat.blogspot.com/2011/09/carte15-de-pilllpat-agence-eureka-sur.html

8*PRESCRIPTION
TINEYE REVERSE SEARCH ENGINE
http://tineye.com/

9*RUMOR PATROL
Financial Insecurity Causes Temporary IQ Drop Of 13 Points
http://disinfo.com/2013/09/financial-insecurity-causes-temporary-iq-drop-of-13-points/

ALSO SEE:
Bad Decisions Don’t Make You Poor. Being Poor Makes for Bad Decisions.
http://slate.me/19fuRfj

Violent Behavior Linked to Nutritional Deficiencies: ‘Their Brains Are Starving’
http://disinfo.com/2013/09/violent-behavior-linked-to-nutritional-deficiencies-their-brains-are-starving/

10* LAGNIAPPE
HOW JERRY LEWIS GOT PINK-SLIPPED FROM MDA
http://www.showbiz411.com/2011/08/18/jerrys-kids-no-more-how-jerry-lewis-got-pink-slipped-by-mda

11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA
GONE GIRL
http://www.bookforum.com/inprint/2003/12173

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE. 704.
LAMAR WALDRON
http://oswaldsmother.blogspot.com/2012/07/lamar-waldron-ultimate-jfk-historian.html

MODERN WISDOM NUMBER 179 SEPTEMBER 2013

MODERN WISDOM: AMERICA’S ONLY HUMOR MAGAZINE
NUMBER 179
SEPTEMBER  2013
Copyright 2013 Francis DiMenno
http://dimenno.gather.com
dimenno@gmail.com

https://dimenno.wordpress.com/

AND NOW…MODERN WISDOM PRESENTS:
1. THOSE WHO FOLLOW YOU WILL BE LACKLUSTRE
2. TALES OF THE WARDOLF
3. A REVERSE MEMOIR
4. THE 99TH FLOOR
5. OPIUM BEES
6. I’VE FALLEN & I CAN GET UP
7. EXISTENTIAL MONKEY
8. SOMEBODY GOOD
9. THE MK BUTTON
10. AUTISTIC MOUSE
11. USELESS CORE
12. MORE FOR WHO THAN WHAT
13. BEATNIKS OF TOMORROW
14. MUSIC IS OUR BIRDSONG; RADIO OUR MATING CALL
15. LET’S NOT F*CK
16. OPERATION 40
17. GUTSY FOLLY
18. BAY OF STOOGES
19. MUPPET MISSILE CRISIS
20. OPRAH IS A MAN

21. NOIR MISFORTUNE COOKIES: NINTH SERIES
801. Your pretty young wife hangs out with the Hell’s Angels.
802. Someone’s paying big money to trash your reputation.
803. Even the pimps all laugh at your garish wardrobe.
804. Everyone makes mistakes–even God, when He made you.
805. You’ll have to get back up and keep running–forever.
806. That barfly’s hellbent on dragging you right down with her.
807. You beat the murder rap, but everyone knows you’re guilty.
808. Only a naive fool like you still believes in “Justice”.
809. You even fear the members of your own ethnic group.
810. Cops raid your teen’s loud party and find your meth lab.
811. The shrink knows you’re sane but you won’t admit it.
812. Your gun collection is stolen; you dare not report it.
813. You have observed man’s wickedness and found it good.
814. Your attempts to go legit are undone by sleek mobsters.
815. Police award you a repeat customer cell in the drunk tank.
816. Dump that movie star or you’ll lose your other eye.
817. Whiskey, fast dame, faster car, school bus–tragedy.
818. Bring-your-pet-to-work Day doesn’t mean “Pit Bull”.
819. Your blackmailing therapist is an even bigger crook than you.
820. You will be short-changed at the register–trust me.
821. Don’t open that strange unmarked package on your doorstep.
822. Mobsters are sickened by tainted hot dogs at your barbecue.
823. You shouldn’t have tried to crash that roadblock in a Yaris.
824. Morbid fear of guns will foil your fledgling holdup man career.
825. You sold a bad batch of acid to a cop’s only daughter.
826. The police have rented an apartment across the street from yours.
827. Animal control will confiscate your pet lion.
828. You have failed your test of loyalty to the Don.
829. You will become a lowly geek in a carnival sideshow.
830. You will be overcharged on the bill–trust me.
831. Washing off all the bloodstains? You’re not even close.
832. A man of your morbid disposition can never go straight.
833. The bully of the town is out to get your family.
834. Your friends know your war medals were bought in pawnshops.
835. They can and will arrest your crooked great-grandfather.
836. You were born and raised on the wrong side of Wrongtown.
837. Don’t worry about your reunion–you’re a high school dropout.
838. You’ll get stinking drunk and confide all to a hungry snitch.
839. You three-card monte scam goes terribly, terribly wrong.
840. You will be afflicted with heartburn tonight–trust me.
841. Your Best Man runs off with bride and wedding ring.
842. That prostitute your murdered was your long-lost sister.
843. The cops will pin the inside job solely on you.
844. Your bastard son will blackmail you for every penny.
845. The Boss is sure you’ll crack under the Third Degree.
846. Your family has zero influence with the District Attorney.
847. Black gangsters now know you run a white power website.
848. Your death by torture is the ailing Don’s last request.
849. Prison tats clue the Abbot that his Monastary is your hideout.
850. Soon you’ll get a splitting MSG headache–trust me.
851. There’s no room to Rhumba in a Gas Chamber.
852. Welcome to Hell. Is it hot enough for you?
853. The hypes all call you “Too Much LSD Man”.
854. You’re innocent but the cops have orders–Shoot to Kill.
855. You denied a bathroom to the Don’s pregnant wife.
856. Took the day off? The Boss will take your skin off.
857. Your cellmate has a new name for you–“Ophelia”.
858. Rumor has it you called the Don a Guinea Fuck.
859. They WILL pry your gun from your cold, dead fingers.
860. Your dogs won’t starve–they’ll feast on your bloated corpse.
861. After they extract the bullets you’ll literally be half-assed.
862. Even the Jukes and Kallikaks look down on your kinfolk.
863. You’ll die in the gutter with only a lucky penny.
864. Even Charlie Manson wants nothing to do with your problems.
865. You’ll tell them you weren’t driving–Benny was at the wheel.
866. You are destined to be doomed by your own mania.
867. They will hunt you across the four corners of the earth.
868. You are condemned–because even God hates a loser.
869. Anger lasts a minute. Life imprisonment is forever.
870. The universe is cold, random, and totally out to get you.
871. Vodka, pipe bombs, bad bar coke–a cheap date.
872. The hard cons will laugh and call you “Babycakes”.
873. Your life is a dazzling black hole of failure.
874. The hiring committee hated your bad attitude, so you killed them.
875. You’ve vowed to kill all communists, starting with the Police Chief.
876. Listen, Punchy–your entire life has been one long blood sport.
877. Those aren’t hobos, they’re zombies–and you must die.
878. Beg them on your knees and they still won’t respect you.
879. They can always count on you–to play the fool.
880. Like a broken computer they will system error delete you.
881. The fix is in, only They forgot to tell you.
882. You started out wrong and then you made some bad choices.
883. You are King, but your Kingdom is The Land of Failure.
884. Even rivers of booze won’t erase your terrible memories.
885. You ask yourself, ‘Is it me?’ Yes. yes it is.
886. Your life was a machine to make a psychopath.
887. You are on the cutting edge of dysfunction.
888. Your self-awareness condemns you to eternally apologize.
889. Ultimately you have nothing. None of it belongs to you.
890. All that remains for you is to live in the long-ago past.
891. You are already beginning to pay for future mistakes.
892. Shadows all around you, and shadows within the shadows.
893. You’ve gone down way too far to come back up again.
894. You thought you were going to set the world on fire.
895. Whatever happened to the Good Old Days? Whatever happened to You?
896. You will never rise above your station–don’t even try.
897. You can’t rescue her–you can’t even save yourself.
898. Your execution will give your family some much-needed closure.
899. If only the traffic cop hadn’t spotted the loaded gun….
900. You will never escape the Prison. The Prison is You.

22. TEN STORIES IN UNDER FIFTY WORDS

 

1. I DO NOT LIVE WITH MY MOM IN A BASEMENT
Nor do I “collect” bobbleheads. I merely own 23 specimens which people gave me because they know I like them. Although some people tell me my whiny voice drives them crazy. And my fondness for comic books is infantile. For a man of 43. And besides, she’s actually my step-mom.

2. I CAN…EXPLAIN

It is true that nosy police detectives have very recently found, among my effects, an allegedly “stolen” dog dish (with the name of my recently deceased neighbor’s recently deceased dog inscribed upon it). But it was a gift, I tell you. A GIFT! And it proves…nothing!

3. FAT MAN ON THE INTERSTATE

Driving through Scenic New England in the high summertime, the trees bursting with their greenery exactly resembled the tops of succulent steamed broccoli. Now, if only the rain were melted butter, he thought, I could forget my fershlugginer diet–and nosh my way from Plainville to Valley Falls!

4. TO THE PERSON SITTING IN DARKNESS

Whatcher doin’ settin’ thar wif the lights out dere, Boy? Why’m I payin’ a lectric bill anyhoo? I get it Boy–you’d rather set ther in the gloomy dark then talk t’ me. Well, set thur all yuh like–see if I care…OH COME ON SNAP OUT OF IT!

5. YOU REMIND ME SO MUCH OF A KID I KNEW IN HIGH SCHOOL

They called him Crazy Joe–one day he snapped–then they called him Killer Joe–then, he was gone–years later we learned they burned him in the chair–He had a kind of wild look in his eyes–just like you–but, um, in a good way–NO, WAIT!

6. ICKY JIVETOWN

Do we not all long in some location in our heart to be groovy hipsters, Daddio? Is there not a little bit of swingin’ Hipster Divinity in all of us that shapes our wild ends–rough hew them as we will? Huh? What do mean, ‘I’m under arrest”?

7. I AM A LIVING DYNAMO

You call me “Bully” but it is the custom of my people to scorn the scum of the earth and spit on them and abuse them. It has been this way since my ancestors first came to this country. What about MY rights? WHY DO YOU HATE MY FREEDOM?

8. SEE THAT DAME OVER THERE? THE ONE WEARING THE PRIEST’S BERETTA?

She’s older than the other frails. World-weary. Prefers a good stiff drink. She strangled a priest to get that hat. No wonder she’s aloof from the others. Her secret is consuming her. She can’t eat, can’t sleep. Martinis and Pall Malls are her only sustenance. My kinda dame.
https://fbcdn-sphotos-g-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-frc1/p480x480/249024_10151840903831019_1083119594_n.jpg

9. TOTAL ANNIHILATION

That’s my meat. No half measures, that’s what I say. No, total annihilation. That’s what we need. So much better than the lackluster partial annihilation we’d previously been forced to settle for. You may call me “Nazi” and say I’m “sick,” but someday you’ll be the first on my list.

10. CHRIST’S RESUME

The next time you turn down a job applicant based on lack of experience, consider Christ’s resume: shepherd, fisherman, short order cook, some light carpentry, public speaking experience, fluent in Amharic. Then ask yourself–would you hire this hallucinating, bearded nomad? Well–WOULD you?

23. PERSONAL ADS TRANSLATED

ENERGETIC = So manic it will set your teeth on edge
LIVE LIFE TO THE FULLEST = Multiple substance abuser
SEXY = Preens like a crow strutting in the gutter
EASY-GOING = Prescription meds a-plenty; will share
NICE GUY = Won’t criticize your appearance in public
SINCERE = Lying sack of shit
PASSIONATE = Will ejaculate in under 30 seconds guaranteed
RESPECTFUL = Utterly dull
WITTY = Loves to hear self talk
FLEXIBLE = Has no life of their own
SELF-ASSURED/CONFIDENT = Boorish and overbearing
ANIMAL-LOVER = Has no human friends
CLEVER = Knows how to suck a subway token out of a slot
JOYFUL/HAPPY = Inane
LOYAL = Desperate
AFFECTIONATE = Slavish
KIND-HEARTED = Dopey
FAMILY-ORIENTED = Kowtows to Mom
INTERESTING/INTRIGUING = Wanted in at least two states
TALENTED = Frustrated intellectual who will only talk about self
INVIGORATING/INSPIRING = Manic
POLITE = Introverted along every point of the scale
ANIMATED = Extra-manic
ACTIVE = Loves his truck more than people
OUTGOING = Drunk every night
SINGLE = Probably married
FUN GUY = Lager lout
OUTDOOR PERSON = Clumsy as an ox
GREAT SENSE OF HUMOR = Loves the Three Stooges; hopes you do too
I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M DOING THIS = Definitely married
SHY = Likes to set fires
WORKING OUT = Narcissist
MOVIES =Smuggles own candy into theatre
SPORTS = Will ignore you 9 months of the year
Sophisticated = I’m so ugly I haven’t had a date in ten years
Loving = You will need a restraining order to get rid of me
Generous = I deal drugs
Cute = Age 40 and still have “baby fat”
Reliable = Will always arrive in time for dinner
My colleagues describe me as handsome = I’m their boss
Great legs = Face like Lena the Hyena
Petite = I am 4’6″
Curvaceous = Morbidly obese
Hourglass figure =Will fuck for crack
Affectionate = Will cling to you for dear life
Likes to cuddle = Forget about oral sex
Interested in a committed relationship =Unemployed & about to be evicted
Sensitive = Irritable and neurotic
Great cook = It takes two people to hug me
Romantic = Indifferent to making a living
Caring = Dumb as a bag of rocks
Monogamous = Will fuck for food
Down to earth = Rude, crude and socially unacceptable
Looking for best friend = Don’t expect much sex
Educated = Laughably pretentious
Gentleman = Male chauvinist extraordinaire
Well hung = Bring tweezers
Great in bed = I have the I.Q. of a ceiling fan
I’d love to satisfy you = Haven’t had a woman in three years
Sexually insatiable = Will fuck rocks, moss, lichen
Animal = Will bully you and your friends for favors
Great lover = Monosyllabic grunts constitute conversation
Uninhibited = A stone-cold certified triple-X freak
Romantic = psycho
Rubenesque = fat
I’ve been told I’m attractive = ugly
Great personality = ugly+fat
Old-fashioned = frigid and/or born again christian
Easygoing = desperate
adventurous = slut
will try anything once = slut
open minded = slut
cute recent college grad = middle aged fat dude from Duluth
I enjoy the finer things in life = You will pay.
Professional = my job description has a title.
Friendship and possible LTR = Dear God why am I so lonely?

24. ADVERTISEMENT

Be sure and buy these forthcoming volumes in my ongoing Americana
series, including:
The Hobo’s Apprentice:
The Cross-Country Hobo;
The Runaway Hobo;
The Hobo’s Legacy;
King Hobo;
The Rock Candy Mountain Hobo;
The Christmas Hobo;
Circle of Hobos;
The Hobo’s Homecoming;
The New Year’s Hobo;
The Lost Hobo;
A Hobo’s Holiday;
The IWW Hobo;
The Hobo’s Bride;
NEW! The Billionaire Hobo.

25. PREJUDICES

“Wild Horses” begs the question of whether Tame Horses,

working in disciplined concert, could have dragged Mick away.

Listen, you filthy drunks: if you don’t know how to argue in a
reasoned and impartial fashion, then I shay I want no part of you.

What we really need a robot president, then all this silly stuff
about ancestry and country of birth would never come up in the first
place. Also, instead of impeaching him, you could just take away his
oil can.

O positive and AB negative walk into a bar. The bartender says,
“We don’t serve your type in here!”

My friends call me Mr. Non-Violence. But you can call me “Annihilo”.

We are, all of us, merely a tiny part of a vast web of
interconnectivity. So gimme a dollar.

Going to Starbucks, with all its arcane rituals and paraphernalia, is
like announcing to the world, “How I miss the old days! I wish to
Christ I still used drugs!”

An elephant never forgets. But what does an elephant really have to
remember in the first place? Peanuts? The hook? Or maybe the look of
betrayal on the face of that soulful clown he mutilated in
Cincinnati….

Kiddiekult books hinge upon stories which largely depend upon the
supernatural resolution of teenage angst.

Jed Clampett at the crucifixion: “Y’all come back now, hear?”

At least one of the Ten Chimp Commandments probably has something to
do with coveting bananas.

There is something about stubborn naiveté which in its utter
vacuity approaches the fabled sublimity of silence.

Democracy is a wonderfully ingenious system in which the common people
voluntarily elect leaders who work against the interests of the common
people.

I suppose that every time a bell was rung, Pavlov’s cat went out and
sucked the breath out of a baby.

I’ll bet that Hell has a Beach Boys soundtrack–a post-1977 Beach Boys
soundtrack.

The Blessings of the Five Fates: Air Conditioning, Power Steering,
Teflon, Diet Soda, and Thick Frosty Shakes.

I am guessing that the liberal Kool Aid of which conservatives speak
is supposed to be an ideological witch’s brew consisting in unequal
parts of secular humanism; impractical unilateral disarmament schemes;
parlor socialism; sneering at the flag, and hatred of guns, police,
the military, and hound dogs sleeping under the front porch.

Don’t laugh at your dog when he sniffs at someone’s crotch. You do the
very same thing on the internet every single day.

When it comes right down to it, the word ‘fascist’ means anything I
command it to mean.

Listen, Stranger–They call me “Mr. Gunjoy.” Do you have a problem
with that? For YOUR sake I hope NOT.

The terrible insights, unsolvable riddles & hysterical facts showcased
by our media are just another sign of our own malevolent narcissism &
our haunted hopes for a uniqueness that also conforms to social norms.
(I hope I’m not out of line.)

Someone should draw a picture of a garbageman wearing a bib with a
garbage can on it.

Lenny Kravitz’s music is better than Applebee’s food.

26. BUMPER STICKERS OF PEOPLE YOU SHOULD AVOID

My Car is Jealous of Your Shiny Car
My Other Spacecraft is the Starship Enterprise
Caution: Recombinant DNA on Board
Honk If You’re A Migrating Goose
This Machine Kills Fascists
I Sleep On a Kryptonite Pillow
Ask Me About My Particle Accelerator
L. Ron Hubbard Is My Co-Pilot
I Brake for Biological Mishaps
Caution: Nuclear Reactor on Board
People Say I’m Aggressive, But That Too Will Change–When I Get My Gun
I Love My Dog Which Used to Be a Cat
Easy Does It But Man Could I Use a Drink
I Brake For Twisted Circus Dwarves
Ask Me About My Tarantula
Stop Senseless Violence–Bring Back Sensible Violence
My Son Is An Honor Student At The State Prison Farm
Christ Is Crucified and Yet You Laugh
I Love Absinthe
Why You No Be My Friend, Esse?
Methamphetamine Is My Co-Pilot
Jesus is Coming Back Soon and Then We’ll All Be Destroyed

27, RULES OF THUMB

The half-life of Not Getting It is forever.

28. UNPLEASANT PROVERBS 

An Army Dies on its Feet.

29. FACETIAE

VIA E.M. DUPUIS

http://www.medievalists.net/2013/08/30/medieval-jokes/

30. DEATH OF SHAMUS HEANEY
“A shamus only pushes up daisies one way. Via hot lead.”–Anon.

“You dirty slobbering rat,” I croaked,
My blood clotted and a hard knot
Throttled my blistered skull.
My brain pan chirped and dribbled.
A scaresome blob of a deadpan mook
Hovered neath bruised eyesockets.

I aimed and fired mid the nervous gray din.
“You stinking farrow you half-mad cow
I hope you rot in the deepest pit of Hades.”
Did I fire first or did he? No matter.
The dark city was righted by our doom.
For a man is a poor vessel of mud and blood
Ceaselessly rushing to meet sad destiny.
http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474978770334

31. THE MODERN WISDOM ALMANAC. ARCHIVE:
2007: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977004217
2008: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977221496
2009: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977565421
2010: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977969402
2011: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474978851374
2012: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474980950364
2013: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474981829985