THE INFORMATION #848 AUGUST 7, 2015

THE INFORMATION #848
AUGUST 7, 2015
Copyright 2015 FRANCIS DIMENNO
http://dimenno.gather.com
francisdimenno@yahoo.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

To be a preacher requires two apparently contradictory qualities: confidence and humility.–Timothy Radcliffe

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE

BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TEN: PART THIRTY: KINGDOM COME

Tipsy Smith the barkeep was being kept busy taking care of the two drabs who were his newly-arrived customers, so Count Victor Justin turned his attention to Pappy O’Day. He barely noticed me, if at all. He was in a peculiar mood; liquor had dulled and slurred his speech, but at times his eyes would shine and he would speak lively, albeit in a continuous staccato monotone. 

“We got up to some pretty sweet rackets back in those days, I will say that much. Back when God was a Pup. The molls were boosters, and could strip clean a high-toned department store quicker than a school of piranha, although it wasn’t long until the store dicks got wise. That’s why we went from city to city, usually on the train. The crooked conductor would always accept a half-fare from a travelling party of wise gees. The twists wore booster shorts and skirts with big pockets sewn on the inside at just the right height to facilitate a hand-off, and they could stroll into a butcher shop and practically make off with a whole side of beef. Needless to say, we allus ate very well. I was quite a ladies’ man in my day, you know. I could talk a twist into doing practically anything at all. Many’s the bastard born in the month of May I’ve left behind me. I can go to any city and see my map if I had a mind to. Do I bother with any of ’em now? Nit! Where’s the percentage in it? 

“Not for me the life of looking after a puling bairn. Adventure–that was my meat. Did I ever tell you of the week I spent ‘training’ at the seminary up in Canada? I believe it was on account of I was hiding out from a beef made by a particularly aggrieved citizen I’d rooked in a short con game down in Albany–the gold brick, it must have been. I did dearly love the gold brick back in those days. News of the Klondike gold rush up in the Yukon was still fresh. I had been there; so naturally, I had the vantage. I could talk to a sucker all day about sled dogs, and spit freezing before it hits the ground, and Eskimo gals, and the types of entertainments and ‘novelty performances’ on offer in the dance halls. Depraved! That’s hardly the word for it. Depraved implies something mildly titillating next to what those gals were up to. I’ve been to Paris and to Mexico City, too, and I ain’t never seen the like of what those gals could do. Vulgar! That doesn’t even scratch the surface! Perverted? You bet! But I’ll leave it to your imagination; no need to discuss such matters when there’s ‘ladies’ present. But I’ll tell you this much–it made a donkey show look tame. 

“I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw the Reverend John Cross there. At the Seminary, I mean. Sure, and there was already many a Limey blackleg preacher at the Seminary. Some of them might have been on the run from the law themselves, for all I knew. So. I spent a week there soaking up the hokum and learning all their hocus-pocus work and suchlike and I could probably still do a fair representation of a preacher if I put my mind to it. And I allus was a dab hand as a body of divinity bound in black calf. What they call a “parson”. 

“I will tell you one thing about those boys–they surely do like their meat and drink. Sure, there were one or two Holy Joes who took the whole thing too damn seriously, as believed in mortifying their flesh and other such bilge and tommyrot, but most of them friars was prosperous-looking. And why not? It was an easy bounty. I never ate so good as I did in that establishment. It was like a school and church combined, only it had a long hallway that led to the dining hall. I still dream about that place. The smells! Fresh bread, each and every morning. T’was no hardship; they were all up by 4:30 anyway. Me, that’s the time I usually went to bed, so it was quite an accommodation on my part. But it was only for a week. Someone smelt a rat. I behaved queer, even for an American seminarian. Forgot that even to say ‘oh gosh’ and ‘oh gee’ and ‘son of a gun’ was frowned on in those exalted precincts. Anyway, I wasn’t exactly given my papers and sent packing, but things were trending in that general direction, so I vamoosed and made my way up to Newfoundland, where I ended up working on a fishing boat for a week.

“Fishermen are some of the most evil gees you can ever spend time with–and they drink the most, but that’s incidental. Comes from wearing rubber boots and netting up some pretty ugly customers. With their eyes open wide and their mouths gaping–and the fish are even worse. Fishermen are ruthless. They cuss a blue streak. Even my ears turned red. And they don’t care for nobody at all, unless it be a fellow fisherman. I lasted about one week on the boat. I was a real boggle-de-botch. They mostly kept me busy dumping chum. I didn’t have the muscles for the heavy work. It’s an interesting story how I ended up on that boat. Guess the frost heads were on the lookout for a man fitting my description for some sort of homicide in Q. City so I hid out among the fisher folk. Lied and told ’em I had worked out of Portland. They knew those weren’t the bottom facts, but they humored me. I’ll tell you something about working on a fishing boat–it smells something awful. Seeps into your clothes–seeps into your life. Into your dreams, too–endless waves–and the smell of garbage. All this, and bobbing up and down in the freezing rain. There’s got to be about fifty softer ways to make a living, including coal miner and stoker for a furnace. It was worse than being in jail and getting the old strappado. Which I hear they still do, up in the frozen north. Unless I was misinformed. 

“Anyway, having a bit of seaman’s lore came in handy for cozening up to a ship’s Captain when on an ocean cruise. To a ship’s Captain I was a man of the world with a somewhat undetermined past, and that made me a man of mystery and intrigue, and not some commonplace duffer. From the way I tossed the lingo around he knew I warn’t no lundlubber, and he liked the cut of my jib. I never referred to his tub as a boat, and he never treated me like a swabbie. Man, those ocean liners were some sweet pickings! But, as usual, I’m getting ahead of myself.  

1*SALUTATION

DAVID BOWIE

STARMAN

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4B5zmDz4vR4&sns=fb

2*REFERENCE

30 KNOCKOFF PRODUCTS

http://www.buzzfeed.com/alannaokun/30-knockoff-products-that-are-almost-better-than-the-real-th#.xtg8exbq4

3*HUMOR

AL CAPP VS. CHARLES SCHULTZ

http://kmunson-mac.blogspot.com/2010/11/al-capp-charles-schulz-clash-of-titans.html

4*NOVELTY

JIMMY HATLO

http://johnkstuff.blogspot.com/2010/06/jimmy-hatlo-bob-dunn-cartoonists-world.html

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST

JOE COLEMAN

http://savantgarde.org/joe-coleman-illuminating-icons-dark-and-bright/

6* DAILY UTILITY

HOW TO LIVE WITHOUT AIR CONDITIONING

http://www.bostonglobe.com/ideas/2013/07/20/how-live-without-air-conditioning/4DqSdLtDiJ4iAn29lNCjaI/story.html?event=event25

7*CARTOON

THE GHOST TOWN

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H_CKp2xS_74&feature=youtu.be

8*PRESCRIPTION

HOW ROOT CANAL SURGERY WORKS

https://www.facebook.com/interestingengineering/videos/819108051492234/?pnref=story

9*RUMOR PATROL

P.J. O’Rourke: How I Killed ‘National Lampoon’

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/pj-o-rourke-how-i-809985

10* LAGNIAPPE

TRUMP: FASCIST?

http://www.salon.com/2015/07/25/donald_trump_is_an_actual_fascist_what_his_surging_popularity_says_about_the_gop_base/

11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA

The 50 States Of America If They Were Actually People In A Bar. 

http://www.tickld.com/x/the-50-states-of-america-if-they-were-actually-people-in-a-bar

11A BOOKS READ AND REVIEWED

44 IRISH SHORT STORIES. GARRITY. ****1/2

50 YEARS OF THE AMERICAN SHORT STORY PART ONE. ABRAHAMS. ****1/2

ANT-MAN PRELUDE. ***

AQUAMAN 4: DEATH OF A KING. JOHNS. ***1/2

AVENGERS 1. HICKMAN. ***1/2

AVENGERS: RAGE OF ULTRON. ***

AVENGERS VS. ULTRON. ***

THE BARBARY COAST. ASBURY. ****

BATGIRL 1: BATGIRL OF BURNSIDE. ***

BATGIRL 5: DEADLINE. ***

BATMAN: EARTH ONE. 2. ***1/2

BATMAN ETERNAL 2. ***1/2

BATMAN 6. GRAVEYARD SHIFT. ***1/2

BATMAN & ROBIN 5. THE BIG BURN. ***

BATMAN & ROBIN 6. THE HUNT FOR ROBIN. ***1/2

BATMAN DETECTIVE COMICS 5. GOTHTOPIA. ***1/2

BATMAN DETECTIVE COMICS 6. ICARUS. ***1/2

BATMAN/SUPERMAN 3: SECOND CHANCE. ***1/2

THE BIG CON. MAURER. ****

A COP’S LIFE, SUTTON. ***1/2

EARTH ONE. VOL. 1. JOHNS & FRANK. ***1/2

ECONOMIX. GOODWIN & BURR. ****

FLASH 2: ROGUES REVOLUTION. ***

FLASH 6. OUT OF TIME. ***

FLASHPOINT. JOHNS, KUBERT, HOPE. ***1/2

FKASHPOINT: THE WORLD OF FLASHPOINT FEATURING THE FLASH. ***1/2

GANDHI: MY LIFE IS MY MESSAGE. QUINN. ****

GRAYSON 1. AGENTS OF SPYRAL. ***

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY 1. ABNETT & LANNING. ***1/2

HARLEY QUINN 1. HOT IN THE CITY. ***

INFINITY. HICKMAN, ET AL. ***1/2

INJUSTICE: GODS AMONG US YEAR 2 VOLUME 1. ****

JUSTICE LEAGUE DARK 4: REBIRTH OF EVIL. ***

MILES MORALES THE ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN 2. ***1/2

THE NEW FRONTIER. COOKE & STEWART. ***1/2

POWERS BUREAU 2. ICONS. BENDIS & OEMING. ***

REVELATIONS. ***1/2

ROCKET RACCOON: A CHASING TALE. ***

SWAMP THING 1: RAISE THEM BONES. ***1/2

SWAMP THING 2: FAMILY TREE. ***1/2

UNCANNY AVENGERS 3: RAGNAROK NOW. ***

THE YEARS OF LYNDON JOHNSON: THE PASSAGE OF POWER. CARO. ****1/2

YOUNG AVENGERS 2: ALTERNATIVE CULTURE. ***

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE.
807. TERENCE MCKENNA

http://disinfo.com/2014/12/23-things-terence-mckenna-said-best-dmt-sex-telepathic-octopi/

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THE INFORMATION #847 JULY 31, 2015

THE INFORMATION #847
JULY 31, 2015
Copyright 2015 FRANCIS DIMENNO
http://dimenno.gather.com
francisdimenno@yahoo.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

Actors are con men and con men are actors. –Edward Burns

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TEN: PART TWENTY-NINE: KINGDOM COME

Count Victor Justin noticed from the corner of his practiced eye that the bar was still largely empty, and so he turned his full attention to Tipsy Smith the Barkeep and Pappy O’Day the barfly and spoke, in a low voice from the corner of his mouth. It was almost as if he was a Papist who was going to Confession; and who was I to say he wasn’t? 

“Never mind the circumstances of my childhood; I don’t blame nobody for nothing; I was a happy-go-lucky little yellof with a memory like flypaper. I could add sums in my head long before I was five, and I taught myself to read long before I had any schooling to call my own. I was particularly fond of music and can still recite lyrics from years ago as though I’d only heard them yesterday. 

“What is a Home Without Mother? A Nation’s Orphans. 500,000 Devils! Oh, I knew them all. Nobody dast try me; even as a lisping tot I could spiel out a sentimental ballad with the best of ’em, plus I was a chubby-cheeked rascal and far cuter to boot. At first, my mother and father delighted in having me perform for guests in our wood frame home, in the front parlor, in front of a roaring fire, with spooky shadows everywhere to be seen and unseen. Father’s a Drunkard and Mother Is Dead. How prophetic that song turned out to be! What Is a Home Without Mother, indeed. Grand-Mother’s Eyes Have Grown Dim. The Sweetest Flower of All. Don’t ask me to sing them now, my voice ain’t what it used to be. Each one of those songs is like a book to me. Homeless To-Night! Many’s the time it was so. I am the very model of a Modern Major-General . I have in the past gone into character as a military man and that song was a great help to me in recalling my lines. 

“Before long, my father, damn his soul, saw money in it. He would black me up good with burnt cork and take me to a blind pig, and stand me up on the bar and have me perform minstrel songs. Ev’ry Day Gwine to Be Sunday. Carry Me Back to Old Virginny. De Gospel Raft. Dem Good Ole Days Afo De War. Sing Darkies Sing. It wasn’t too long before I developed quite a rum habit, since my father would dose me with a spoonful or two of the stuff. It never affected my memory, though. It was still like a mousetrap. I remember to this day where I buried coins some forty years ago and more.

“It’s a funny thing, memory. It’s like money in the bank to me. I have never had any trouble with it. They say you should always tell the truth because it’s too much trouble to remember a lie, but that was never any problem which I found to be particularly troublesome. Quite the opposite! The more elaborate the lie, it seemed, the easier a time I had in remembering it; and elaborating on it still more. 

Mother finally prevailed upon my father to stop taking me to low dives to dance and sing for the pennies they threw. Mother was a Saint. Father was a rotten brute when he was in the drink, which was most of the time. Mother was related to Lucy Webb Hayes on her mother’s side. Her family was of the quality. They never approved of father. He was a drummer–a sort of travelling salesman, when he could be prevailed upon to work, which was seldom. Either he was on a drunk, or, periodically, he got religion and attempted to atone for his past sins by doing good works, none of which involved earning money to support his family. We grew up in a sort of genteel poverty.  

“Of my early childhood the less said the better. However, unlike most boys, I learned early one that the best way to get away with something is to never develop a reputation for being a troublemaker.  Most boys is vainglorious, and pull their stunts to promote their own standing among their fellows. I was a thoroughly dull and somewhat unlikable boy to my fellows, and my schoolmasters thought I was as innocent as the day was long since I never back sassed or tried to wriggle my way out of self-inflicted trouble. But I was as duplicitous as the day was long, and got away with far more mischief than the so-called bad boys simply by knowing how to keep my mouth shut. And, anyway, schoolmasters is mostly fools. If they had any relish for actual life, they would be out in the world, doing manly things, not holed up in a classroom with a batch of puling and prating schoolboys.

“Even as a boy, I was fastidious. Always careful of my clothing; always clean, and smelling of soap, with clean nails and slicked-down hair, not the wild unruly mops the other boys possessed during those carefree years. I presented myself as being at least five years older than I actually was due to my deportment, which was that of a full-grown man; that, the teachers adored, and they never talked down to me and often I was made privy to certain information about my fellow classmates which was to prove very useful—whose family was rich; whose father was an incorrigible drunkard; who had a whole brace of pretty sisters, or a crazy Aunt at home that the family wasn’t talking about.  

“Of course, back in those days, the boys were educated separate from the girls. I’m not saying I didn’t have an eye for the gentle sex. It has proved to be my undoing more than once, but now I’m an old man, and past such concerns, because the blood no longer runs so hot, so I now can look upon the works of the fairer sex with something of an objective, and, admittedly, a somewhat jaundiced eye.”

As if to prove that such was the case, he visibly noticed that some rather tawdry molls had come into the bar; but he seemed hell-bent on telling his story rather than seeking their company, so he kept his seat.

1*SALUTATION

WRECKLESS ERIC

(I’D GO THE) WHOLE WIDE WORLD

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4KgcAxjbiyY

2*REFERENCE

NO, IT’S NOT YOUR OPINION, YOU’RE JUST WRONG

http://www.houstonpress.com/arts/no-it-s-not-your-opinion-you-re-just-wrong-7611752

3*HUMOR

PIG MASSAGE

https://video-lga1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hvideo-xaf1/v/t42.1790-2/11647698_880602618700792_1193869490_n.mp4?efg=eyJybHIiOjM4OCwicmxhIjo1MTJ9&rl=388&vabr=216&oh=d38ee55aa2c748529f6f9efa568610e5&oe=55B17D06

4*NOVELTY

VICE MAGAZINE HEADLINE GENERATOR

http://vice.ddly.co/

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST

eno moebius roedelius  

BELLDOG 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LEaOUoKI-T8

6* DAILY UTILITY

1,150 FREE COURSES FROM TOP UNIVERSITIES

http://www.openculture.com/2015/07/a-master-list-of-1200-free-courses-from-top-universities-35000-hours-of-audiovideo-lectures.html

7*CARTOON

OUT OF THE FRYING PAN INTO THE FIRING LINE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ic5XjnG3foY

8*PRESCRIPTION

SYMMETRICAL PHOTOS

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dl-cade/30-symmetrical-photos-so-_b_7801650.html

9*RUMOR PATROL

G.G. ALLIN’S RESUME

http://dangerousminds.net/comments/gg_allin_is_seeking_gainful_employment_read_his_actual_resume

10* LAGNIAPPE

TODD SNIDER

TOO SOON TO TELL

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kaYihBvuGsw&app=desktop

11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA

BUTTERSCOTT   
Presents the Slick Overproduced Commercial Pop Thing™    
36 tracks
Here follows a Skeleton Key to the Finnegan’s Wake of Rock Albums. Well, not exactly. More like Bizarro Superman comics. But anyway, note the interpolated commercials, just like that ’60s classicThe Who Sell Out (and don’t think for a minute they have never heard that album). Butterscott, in case you don’t know because you’ve been living in a cave on Mars (or even if you haven’t), specializes in the delicious literary device known as travesty:  a “burlesque of a serious work or subject, characterized by grotesque or ludicrous incongruity of style, treatment, or subject matter.” The cover copy promises that two-thirds of the album is not re-treads of earlier songs, and I suppose that’s true. I will admit that it’s nice to see an Elvis-oid version of “Mindless Boogie,” the band’s passive-aggressive tribute to (among other things) the fabled star-making machinery. “Kissing the Velvet Glove” is a classic late-’60s psychedelic rock farrago with the equally classic low-affect sardonic Butterscott vocal touches. “Legoagogo” is a “Fame”-like disco song which bravely tackles the ubiquity of Legos. While pretending to celebrate them. Sadly, no commercial potential here. Sorry boys – we can’t USE you. Better go back to driving a truck. “Wheelchair Woman” is a proto-metal song which addresses the menace of the overbearing cripple. Edgy stuff, man. Ginger Baker would hate it. “Rekkid Grouch” concerns Your Typical Record Store of yore and takes us into fake-Monkees territory. “Pajama Mama” takes on, with electo-funk, the sociological phenomenon of daytime pajama wear. “Solitude for Two” is a Motown send-up with goofy doo-wop elements and a kicking bass line which makes it, like, an even more authentic fake. “Groggy Froggy” is a “Louie Louie”/“Banana Splits Theme” send-up which is actually quite catchy. “Hot Buttered Toast” is a nod to quaint Kinks numbers such as “Have a Cuppa Tea.” Pop music a la The Association gets eviscerated in “Moist” – also see “Crystal Blue Persuasion” by The Shondells. “Slim Kim” pays obvious tribute to sports anthems like Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll” – and to Kim Fowley, the LA songwriter, producer and impresario. “Bartleby” is another re-run, reminiscent of kludgy rock a la The Move, which devolves into a psychedelic freakout. “Thank You Captain Obvious” is a lyrically deft send-up of faux-marching bands. “How’s Yer Hair” – another re-run – is an introspective number in the style of Bread, with superadded Beatlesque pomp in the coda. “Kalliope Krouch” is a twisted children’s song – with an important message about drugs! “Wannitbad” is a country rock parody with dirty lyrics. (Sorry Boys, etc.) “Infinity Forever” caps the proceedings with a grandiose pronunciato—a bit like Todd Rundgren, maybe. Plus, there’s a bonus track, “Hey Ho and a Bottle of Brew.” There’s lots of nifty songs here.  You look at their obsessions and realize that they’re also yours and you wonder what you’ve done with your life. And then you laugh. Because they’re funny, and bitter, and so are you now maybe, just a little bit.         (Francis DiMenno)

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE.
806. BERNIE SANDERS: NAZI?

http://thinkprogress.org/justice/2015/07/20/3682756/top-conservative-magazine-claims-bernie-sanders-leads-actual-nazi-movement/

 

THE INFORMATION #846 JULY 24, 2015

THE INFORMATION #846
JULY 24, 2015
Copyright 2015 FRANCIS DIMENNO
http://dimenno.gather.com
francisdimenno@yahoo.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

Popular culture tells you that schools and parents don’t know what’s going on, the police are dogs, politicians are all liars and scum, and any crime that’s not committed by the Mafia is done by the CIA.–Stanley Crouch
WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TEN: PART TWENTY-EIGHT: KINGDOM COME

“I was talking of Police Captain Tom Aston.” said Count Justin Victor to Pappy O’Day and Tipsy Smith. “Now, Cap’m Aston is no genius—he grew up rough, and his early years was full of misfortunes. His father was a barkeeper of a flatiron. Now, politicians and booze go together hand in hand. It’s a fact of life that at least half the people who are now in politics were the sons or the grandsons of saloonkeepers and suchlike. Saloons is where the wardheelers like to meet, and, of course, a great many of their constituents frequent such habiliments and congregate there.”

“Now, the one solace that poor people have is to drink, but the teapot-suckers and the goo-goos, who are allus going on about keeping the Sabbath holy without even knowing themselves why it should be thus in the land of the free, why, they agitate for saloons to be closed on Sunday, and all sorts of other flabberdegaz, and the Mayor agrees, and he so directs the legislature if he can, or else he alters the city laws, and he tasks the higher-ups on the police force to carry it out, and they do, only not too enthusiastically, of course, because the Mayor, like most pols, is in thrall to the big liquor interests. Nobody wants to rock the boat. To make matters even more interesting, criminals and strong drink also go hand in hand. Most people in the liquor business started out as businessmen with shady reputations. Furthermore, booze makes men do things which the police are called in to stop. Booze helps in its way to keep the policeman in business. The hooch-bucket is not a foe, but rather, a friend of disorder. The policeman is there to regulate disorder. Two sides of the same coin, says I.

“Anyway, Tom Aston’s Paw got shot by a reel-pot in a drunken brannigan—go and figure–and his maw had to take in wash and early on at about the age of twelve Tom had to quit school and take a job as a delivery boy. Even then he had an eye for the main chance, and it wasn’t too long that he beefed up real good and got a job as a scrapper and an all-around headbreaker for some of the crew that the Gib Yellof surrounded himself with. Lucky for him, too, that his Paw once knowd a precinct captain who owed him a favor, and so he favored the boy and when it came time he got him a job on the force. No examinations or police academy or any of that newfangled nonsense—just a uniform and a nightstick and a willingness on day one to crack some skulls. That’s all it took to become a policeman in those days. No genius; just luck. And connections. 

“Tom Aston is one of those boys with a sixth grade eddication, which means he was a lot smarter than most of the peelers who hadn’t even got that far. Means he knows how to read and write, and kin add and subtract and cipher to the rule of three. He also somehow picked up some albejar, which makes it handy when it comes time to figure out how much rent he should charge on his slum palaces, every one of ‘em a death trap. There’s better conditions in most jailhouses—some of the goo-goos has seen to that. 

“No, Aston ain’t that smart, but he’s smart enough. He is got the most important kind of brain there is to have in his racket—he gets it. He knows the score. He’s with it and for it. If there’s money to be made, all of a sudden the guy you would swear is no smarter than a common mutt is like a canary who can sing Caruso—he is a rare one. A boy wonder for smelling out opportunities. He always knew the right tools for the job, and that’s very important. Y’see, young men don’t get this. Listen: He was the Yob who first threatened to break the fingers of organ grinders and street violinists if they didn’t pay up. He was the Yellof who first installed those newfangled gumball machines in City Hall. He had the contract to supply the city jails with curds and whey, which he used in place of giving the boys in stir their daily bread. Get this—even the cows from the dairy were fed with runoff from the breweries. Which he was also busy shaking down. Except the plutes, of course. And the big brewers. 

“The wealthy brewers could pave their own path to prosperity, because they had the crooked politicians firmly in their favor. Due to graft—and lots of it. They also weren’t averse to sending out some headbreakers during election time, neither. They only have to growl—and the politicians take heed. Some of the holiest men in the city—men seemingly dedicated to doing good works—the ones who ally themselves with the goo-goos who are allus crying out for reform and never getting it—yes, you guessed it, some of the slickest Holy Willies in the town are actually secretly working fist in glove with the Pluty-crats. Don’t ask me how I know this, but I do. And the Pluty-crats are, a good many of them, members of the liquor trust. You ever notice how nobody wants to use that word—“liquor”? It’s always “fine spirits” to that lot. But poison liquor is what they peddle, and it don’t do the poor wretches who are trapped in the thralls of Demon Rum much good to call it anything else than what it is.  

“No, Tom Aston ain’t no genius. But I have to admit, he’s crooked in a new and exciting way—he’s admirably corrupt. A real dazzler, if the truth be known. He’s friends with every man, it seems. He likes you, and you just can’t help but like him, even if he is shaking you down. The only kind of man, it seems, that he has no use for is a man who takes it on the square–an honest bum. And those are rather thin on the ground here in Noxtown. Fathers beat their sons if they’re inclined to be stupid about seizing a man chance and failing to steal what isn’t nailed down, and even what is—ain’t that what a claw hammer’s for? By an honest bum, I mean, of course, someone who is mostly too stupid to seize the main chance but simply drudges along, month after month, year after year, like some sort of pack animal bearing the stings and whiplashes that life dishes out without even once ever turning on the masters. And thus they wend their long and surly way to the boneyard!   
1*SALUTATION

DESMOND DEKKER

THE ISRAELITES

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxtfdH3-TQ4

2*REFERENCE

36 CHEAP AMERICAN BEERS, RANKED

http://deadspin.com/36-cheap-american-beers-ranked-638820035
3*HUMOR

AWFUL FOOD PHRASES

http://www.westword.com/restaurants/thirty-overused-irritating-and-just-plain-awful-food-words-and-phrases-that-make-our-mouth-hurt-5752130
4*NOVELTY

OBAMA NIXES DRUGGED SEX

http://www.pressreader.com/usa/new-york-post/20150716/281487865032419/TextView
5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST

Homosexual dining tips.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/04/dining/simon-doonans-eating-guide-for-gay-and-straight.html?_r=1

6* DAILY UTILITY

7 Things You Must Take Off Your LinkedIn Profile Immediately

http://time.com/3945560/7-things-you-must-take-off-your-linkedin-profile-immediately/
7*CARTOON

FAN THEORY ABOUT JEOPARDY

http://www.clickhole.com/article/crazy-fan-theory-about-jeopardy-actually-makes-tot-2627

8*PRESCRIPTION

THE GREAT AMERICAN BAND

http://michaelazerrad.typepad.com/you_and_what_army/2010/07/who-is-the-great-american-band.html

9*RUMOR PATROL

WORST PLACES IN MASSACHUSETTS

http://turtleboysports.com/21-massachusetts-towns-cities-that-are-bigger-dumps-than-worcester/

ALSO SEE:

http://www.roadsnacks.net/places-in-massachusetts-that-need-a-hug/

10* LAGNIAPPE

MOFUNGO

EL SALVADOR

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y2ki3sRsGHM

11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA

WHO GET OLD BEFORE THEY DIE

http://www.newstatesman.com/culture/2015/07/i-tried-get-my-seat-who-concert-i-felt-bad-about-making-all-old-people-stand
CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE.
805. 16TH ANNUAL GATHERING OF THE JUGGALOS

http://www.juggalogathering.com/

THE INFORMATION #845 JULY 17, 2015

THE INFORMATION #845
JULY 17, 2015
Copyright 2015 FRANCIS DIMENNO
http://dimenno.gather.com
francisdimenno@yahoo.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TEN: PART TWENTY-SEVEN: KINGDOM COME

 

“While we’re on the subject of the Judge and his cronies,” said Count Justin Victor to Pappy O’Day and Tipsy Smith, “what are we to make of Police Captain Tom Aston? You know that on many occasions I have had to buy my way out of the jam, and he’s the Peeler to speak to when the ooftish changes hands. But more to the point—he sees to it that all the wheels are greased. Need to make sure your candidate is voted into office? Call Tom Aston. Hooligans on the street making mischief? Hoboes in the tramp lodgings causing a nuisance? Call Tom Aston. Riff-raff hanging around your groggery making trouble? Call Tom Aston. He’ll send out some rollers like Smash Conklin to crack some heads and put paid to the Wild Boys. And, as regards your beer garden, he’ll even turn a blind eye to ‘The Sunday Question’. But as always, there’s a price to be paid. For, as you well know, Tipsy, the scoundrel is notorious for blackmailing saloonkeepers. That row of tenements in Blowtown hard by the train tracks? Near the canal that they use as run-off for the paper mill? That’s owned by Aston, and he bought ‘em on the cheap by way of the rake-off. It’s deadly down there, but he got the land and the buildings dirt cheap and rents them out to a lot of dirt poor families for twice the prevailing rate. The poor always gets it and gets it good in this equation. Not only does the whole area stink, but they get to pay extra for it. That’s the way of the world when it comes to the poor, who are without influence and therefore without hope. There is no grand collusion, as some would think, between the factory owner and the slumlord, to keep the poor man in his place. But there might as well be. Factor in the grocery and the groghouse keeper, and you’ve got a perfect system in place seemingly designed to keep the working man and his family in a condition close to utter starvation. The only thing the poor man has going for him is the broadness of his back and the fact that if he’s a citizen—and even if he ain’t—he can cast a vote. Wouldn’t it be nice, you think, if the poor man could become a policeman? But that doesn’t happen, as they are natural enemies. To be a policeman in Noxtown, ye needs must know someone as “knows a man”. No, the policeman is mostly appointed, and his one major job is to keep the poor and the other rabble well in their place, for the benefit of people who can afford to maintain brick houses and stable hosses. You call them gentlemen, and their favorites haunts are not the churches, but the golf course and the fancy restaurant, where hunchbacked minions toil in hundred degree kitchens to plate up their delicacies. All the same, I would rather be a policeman than a chef in even the finest restaurant in the world. The money is far better for a man as knows his business. Alas, I was never much one for vigorous physical activity, however. I could never do what Tom Aston did, back when he was a raw recruit, to make it to the top of the ant-heap. Namely, shower the chief and the assistant chief and the Sergeant and Captain above him with fistfuls of lucre.

 

“Every other Sunday he’ll address meetings of the goo-goos, and assure them that all their demands are being met, and that the streets are safe and they can walk out of their brownstones and be completely secure in their persons and the saloons are not wide-open as they are under police control and there’s no drinking on Sundays as the law is being enforced, and he’ll talk as smooth as an Eye-talian gigolo and assure them that ordinary citizens are never in any danger from drunken brawlers and are never found more dead than alive in an alleyway after frequenting one of these establishments, and that the police don’t need a bunco squad because all the so-called chiselers have been driven out of town, which is a mendacity on the face of it, since Noxtown in general and Blowtown in particular is the confidence man’s sanctuary, as I have reason to know well. He lies and says that the police no longer need to make vicious allies of thief-takers and other men who are little better than criminals themselves, when the fact is that without informers, the Noxtown police would solve nary a single crime.”

 

“O, the silver-tongued rogue! You should see him—him, in his uniform, looking almost respectable. Oh, you’ve seen him at his worst, but at his best, with a little bit of powder and rouge—rouge, I kid you not—I hear tell that Guiseppe the barber cuts his rude shock of hair and makes him up so his face don’t so much resemble a slab of rotten roast beef and his gin blossoms ain’t quite so prominent and his fat red phiz doesn’t glow brighter than the lights in the red-lamp district. Don’t tell a soul, but the boys down at the precinct call him ‘The Great Stone Face,’ and worse besides. He’s only about 45—a child next to the likes of us—and yet that belly of his makes him look like a slobbering old blubber-guts. Don’t know why he carries that Elks tooth around except maybe as a good luck charm because I don’t even think he’s in the Elks, as he is a dyed in the wool Mason, though there’s no reason you can’t be both, I reckon.”

 

“I reckon you don’t get to be Captain unless you have at least a sixth-grade edumacation and can use words like ‘investigate’ without sounding like you’ve just gotten fallen off’n the turnip truck. Y’see, before Aston came around, for a brief time Noxtown used to be all hell for any criminal as liked to make an honest living. They had a real hard-charger on the scene—I think his name was Cornelius, and he was no respecter of persons and didn’t believe in discrimination but instead he would go after anyone for any reason whatsoever, though the job he was trying to accomplish was trying to hold back an ocean tide of filth with a dainty little parasol, because he tried to make it clear that there would be no law breaking at all, and so none of the town honchos would talk to him or answer his calls, and pretty soon he was out of his ass.

 

“And that’s how they brought Tom Aston in.”

 

1*SALUTATION

CHARLES MINGUS

BETTER GET IT IN YOUR SOUL

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iGQEVY8eFRU

2*REFERENCE

GOOD COMPUTER TRICKS THAT AREN’T COMMONLY KNOWN

https://www.quora.com/What-are-some-good-computer-tricks-that-are-not-commonly-known

3*HUMOR

F*CK THAT: A GUIDED MEDITATION

http://disinfo.com/2015/07/fck-that-a-guided-meditation/

4*NOVELTY

JARED FOGLE RAN PORN RENTAL SERVICE FROM HIS DORM

http://uproxx.com/tv/2015/07/subway-pitchman-jared-fogle-allegedly-ran-a-porn-rental-service-out-of-his-college-dorm/

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST
A HANDY GUIDE TO GENTRIFICATION

http://www.buzzfeed.com/michaelalbo/that-yuccie-life#.vkMWD7RJV

6* DAILY UTILITY

THE HISTORY OF HIPPIES, YOGA AND VEGETARIANISM

http://disinfo.com/2015/07/the-history-of-hippies-yoga-and-vegetarianism/

7*CARTOON

4 MISERABLE EXPERIENCES YOU CAN’T AVOID AT COMICON

http://www.cracked.com/blog/4-miserable-experiences-you-cant-avoid-at-comic-con/

8*PRESCRIPTION

KIM FOWLEY, RAPIST

http://highline.huffingtonpost.com/articles/en/the-lost-girls/

9*RUMOR PATROL

WHY MANSON MIGHT NOT BE GUILTY

http://pagesix.com/2015/07/08/why-charles-manson-might-not-be-guilty/

10* LAGNIAPPE

200

BY VINCENT COLLINS

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3lhGjS_XGeo&feature=youtu.be

11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA

JOB SKILLS EMPLOYERS WANT BUT CAN’T FIND

http://www.bloomberg.com/graphics/2015-job-skills-report/

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE.
804. 2200 RADICAL POLITICAL POSTERS DIGITIZED

http://www.openculture.com/2015/07/2200-radical-political-posters-digitized-a-new-archive.html

THE INFORMATION #844 JULY 10, 2015

THE INFORMATION #844
JULY 10, 2015
Copyright 2015 FRANCIS DIMENNO
WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TEN: PART TWENTY-SIX: KINGDOM COME
“Bad as Alderman Tyler is,” said Count Victor Justin to Tipsy Smith the Barkeep and the incredibly wizened Pappy O’Day, “and he’s a very smelly fart blossom indeed, but he’s a bloomin’ angel next to the Judge. You know the one I mean; there’s only one in these here parts; he’s a fat, mealy-mouthed, huffing, puffing, coughing, throat-clearing low-down varmint, as they say out west, as goes by the name of Rance Sniffle, and his very name is a byword for all manners of corrupt practices. Everything a crooked judge can do, he HAS done, and more. Not to get all lawyerly on you, but I clerked in a law office for a spell and I’ve picked up some of their lingo. Suborned perjury, has he? Check. Given complicated instructions to the jury in a case he wants to fix? Check. Intimidated witnesses on the stand when they go against the status quo? Check.  Set a tiny bond in murder cases when the Cutter is known to him? Check. Cry order in the court when the courtroom is empty? Check.
“How so? Dead drunk for a nickel, that’s how. I’ve known him to not only preside while drunk; I’ve also never seen him when he isn’t slightly sozzled on hundred-proof Caper Juice. I have no brief agin him for that; don’t serve me no cat-lap; I like to hoist a glass or two myself, and sometimes more than two.
“But the Judge, he takes I hear tell Bumpers Round and No Heel Taps to new heights. I hear tell he causes a row at the whorehouse when the bugs start crawling over him and the rats and monkeys and devils start to whisperin’ in his ears and dancing in front of his eyes. He starts swearing to Diabolus that he never sold his soul to Him; and then he starts beatin’ on the whores something fierce. And, chances are, he’s soiled not only his own undergarments but his other clothing as well. And he blames them for that as well.
“And by day this is the very same Judge who adjudicates domestic disputes. Usually by telling the little woman to go back to her irate brute of a husband.  
“Now, I’m sure the Judge is a man like any other, and he has his own great sorrows and small regrets. I don’t know him; and I’ve known him for twenty years. We all know how fast that goes. But as far as I can tell, the man is a monster; half insane. I told ye both before that I’m no Saint—I probably wouldn’t be one even if it was easy—but I’ll define myself by what I am not, thank you. I’m not a monster—this I know to be true. I may know a little Greek, and I may be a bad actor on occasion; I may even be a villain, but I never took a red cent from any man as couldn’t afford to be took, and furthermore, I’ll tell the world that Judge Rance Sniffle is a dyed-in-the-wool cobweb-mouthed cranberry-eyed waffle-faced rogue, half fool, half rascal, and all Devil. Like any heathen animal, he’ll never look you directly in the eye for more than a second, which in his case means that everything he has ever said to you has been a lie. Like an animal, he always makes himself at home in his den, and wherever he happens to be he makes into his den. He doesn’t even turn around twice before settling in. Either he is the most purblind or the most confident man I ever caught wind of, and maybe he’s both. Near everyone is afraid of him. The Police Commissioner dasn’t make a move agin’ him; the newspapermen dasn’t write a sour word; even the wild boys of the street know better than to get in his way. The Judge has never been married and has no natural children, as he hates women and pushes them away. But there’s word in the wind that a little birdie told me–that half the wild bastards who choke the street peddling their papers with their cries of Wuxtry are actually the sons of the Judge, and don’t ask about the daughters; they’re probably in convent schools at best. ‘Sister, what are the facts about my Daddy?’ ‘He’s a Very Important Man, and you should pray for him.’ Haw!
“Now, the Judge may be a law in and of himself, but he’s not infallible. It’s been said that the Honor Guard of the Gib Yellof has made a fool of The Judge more than once, but you see that the Gib Yellof and the Judge are very tight—unusually tight—and come to find out the whole thing was an elaborate charade to throw off the Goo-Goos as were seeking the Judge’s removal from the bench. You can bet they didn’t get very far! I’m sure the judge was debating with himself inside of his own drunken head.
‘Hmm. Kack, Humph. If I let this scoundrel go it will cause a ruckus. If I put him in jail, it will cause a riot. Best I should adjudicate upon the side of caution.’
“I’m warning you young man, one more comment like that and you’ll be held in contempt of court.”
‘Haww….There, that should quiet him. Thanks he’s Captain Grand. Where’s my water glass with my special secret medicine?’
 
“I am ordering you to be released on your own cognizance, but I warn you that one more further offense while you’re out on the streets will result in your immediate return to prison with no possibility of appeal.”
‘There, that should settle his hishee hashee.’
“Small Wonder, I say, that life in Noxtown is red in tooth and claw. Look at the caliber of men who are sworn to uphold the law. Police Captain Tom Aston is as corrupt a Yellof as they come. And Judge Rance Sniffle never returns repleviable items without taking his own cut. The Sod! I don’t know how the Judge’s story will turn out, but I know his end cannot be a happy one. Some disaster is sure to strike, and make him long to be back in the arms of his Dear Old Mammy. All I can say is that there’s going to be a storm. And damn soon.”    
 
1*SALUTATION
Yes 
Siberian Khatru 
ALSO SEE:
50 GREATEST PROG ROCK ALBUMS OF ALL TIME
2*REFERENCE
Max Nordau’s DEGENERATION.
3*HUMOR
MOMISMS
Things Moms say:
That’s why we can’t have nice things.
You’ll put your eye out.
How was school?
Don’t make me come over there.
DADISMS
4*NOVELTY
Pennsylvania brewery honoring Joe Paterno with special beer
5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST
TEN MOST HATED TV SHOWS OF ALL TIME
6* DAILY UTILITY
TEN BIGGEST FAST FOOD CHAINS IN THE WORLD
7*CARTOON
LOST PET FLYERS GALLERY
8*PRESCRIPTION
GLOBAL CLIMATE CHANGE MAY OFFSET 50 YEARS OF HEALTH PROGRESS
9*RUMOR PATROL
THIRTEEN REPUBLICANS MOST LIKELY TO WIN THE WHITE HOUSE
10* LAGNIAPPE
MOVIE TITLES THAT SOUND LIKE POOPING
11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA
GOODFELLAS IN SIX MINUTES
CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE.
803. Teddy Bear Vagina Cake Ruins Christening