THE INFORMATION #1029 JANUARY 25, 2019

THE INFORMATION #1029 
JANUARY 25, 2019
Copyright 2019 FRANCIS DIMENNO
dimenno@gmail.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

Older boys were allowed to beat younger ones at my 15th-century English boarding school, and every boy had to run a five-mile annual steeplechase through the sludge and rain of an October day, as horses do. We wrote poems in dead languages and recited the Lord’s Prayer in Latin every Sunday night. –Pico Iyer


WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TWELVE: PART FORTY-SIX: THE EASTERN GATE OF PARADISE

“Long” Geoffrey Monmouth Long at first encouraged Billy Batchelder Tallent to attend the ether parties held each Friday in the Piney Woods, but, with the beginning of the second term of Billy’s Third Form year, one Sunday afternoon after Church and Luncheon, the Sixth Former decided that the time had come to summon Billy to join him on a long walk by the beach, in order to have a serious talk with his young protege.


The sky above the ocean was a sere, cloudless grey. As they walked along the shore and the ocean waves plashed and roared, Geoffrey lit his Meerschaum pipe and Billy lighted the corncob pipe which he still affected, despite Geoffrey’s frequent, good-natured remonstrations.


“Look, Scout,” he said, “these frolics we have are all very well and good for blowing off a little steam, but you had better not let the frolicking habit get the best of you, because your mind is really all you got, in the end. Me, I plan to be a doctor, and I know full well that in medicine, or in any profession, you have got to have your wits about you at all times if you’re going to trounce the competition. Now, let me be frank. Everybody says that you have loads of personality, and they like you, because that’s like a breath of fresh air in this dump, but they also whisper that you might not be the sharpest sword in the scabbard. Now, the way you get ahead of all the smarties who don’t study overmuch is to really apply yourself, until you know everything there is to know about a subject–then you can knock the props right out from under those prigs. They may not like you as much–they may not want to chum around with you anymore–but they will respect you. 


“Quite frankly, friends and family are overrated. It’s connections that you need to make. If you can impress a man with what you know, he will write your name down in his little black book for later. You will never be allowed to rise to the very top, because your family name is not the top of the line, but at the very least you can become indispensable to those in that mob who see a genuine use for you. And here’s one more thing, Injun–never sell yourself short. Never say aloud what you happen to think about your own shortcomings. There are plenty of people who are happy to do that for you. Don’t feed ’em. Get me? 


“So sure, you’re a real personality around here. And that’s all right. But personality can only get you so far. You’re playing a lone game. If you want it to be a long game, you got to learn not to show your hand too early. Keep ’em guessing. Let ’em think that there’s more to you than appears on the surface. And cultivate that surface. You have got to get your Paw to send you some money to buy you some better clothes. And a decent pipe. You still look like a hayseed. And that’s how they’ll treat you, if you don’t watch out. They’ll leave you out of everything, if you give them the slightest excuse. Believe me, I know. Say, what’s your Paw do, anyway?”


“Well…I guess you could call him a gentleman farmer. Horses, mostly.” 


“Never say you ‘guess’. It’s the sign of a weak sister. You either know or you don’t.”


“Well, I suppose you’d say he was just a horse-farmer if you wanted to be mean about it. But most of his hosses are thoroughbreds. He’s made some pretty savvy trades over the years. He knows more about hosses than anybody, I reckon. He can look at hoss tracks and tell you whether it’s a gelding or a mare. He can look at the way a horse is chewing and can tell whether he’s healthy or he has to have a tooth cut back.”


“And what did his father do?”


“Well…I suppose he was a Stonemason. We come from a long line of Masons.”


“That’s good to know. But keep it under your hat. Lots of folks hereabouts don’t cotton to Masons.” 


“Anyway, my father, he’s a whizz with horses. But he’s always complaining about the men he has to do business with. The suppliers. ‘Suppliers are liars,’ says he. “They’ll cheat you if they can.’


“He’s right. Nearly all men in that business will cheat you if they can. That’s the way of the world. The same goes for people in general. They have a nasty tendency to take credit for your work and push themselves to the front of the line. You don’t have to do business like them–it’s better if you don’t–but you have to be aware of how they do. Don’t funk it, but take no guff. That’s my formula. Call them out, in private if possible, because no man will forgive you for impugning his honor in public, but don’t let them get away with anything. That’s a law of nature.


“Now, listen here, Bill. I’m going to talk to you like a Dutch Uncle. There are certain things you have got to learn if you’re going to fit in around here, and maybe even become one of the head boys. First off–your manners. You go at your victuals like a starving hog. It won’t do. You have got to learn to chew your food slowly. And practice taking deep breaths between swallers. Or else other fellers will think you’re a bounder. They won’t say it–but they’ll think it. You’re not starving. Don’t slurp your soup. Don’t eat the fat off the chicken. Leave a little food on your plate. There’ll be plenty more tomorrow.


“And here’s another thing. Don’t let them make their problems into your problems. Call them out about it. And, if you can’t, then try to be diplomatic. Tell them if something doesn’t ‘please’ them, you will ‘try’ to change it. That way, you make the bastards believe you’ll do something about it, even if you have no intention of doing so. Furthermore, there’s a lot of nutty people out there who want everything just so. They’re not going to get it, but it just doesn’t do to call them idiots to their faces. And do you let nothing on your face betray your true thoughts. Smile. Or, at the very least, show them your poker face. They don’t need to see what you hold in your hand. Especially if it’s garbage. Make ’em sweat to pry the truth out of you. Most of all, don’t make fun of the school traditions like you’ve been doing. Nothing upsets the teachers more. Don’t ask me why. They’re old, is what I figure. They think they’re doing something right. They place high value on schooling and education because that’s like their club. If someone went to the same school they did, they figure that the person must be all right.

‘Ristocrats, you see, at bottom are lazy. Any hard work that has to be done, they’ve learned how to get someone else to do it–preferably for free. And any hard thinking they have to do, they’ve learned to ask somebody else what they think. Usually a professional. And any sizing up of a stranger they have to do–why, they would just as soon take a short-cut. Reputation means nothing to a fellow like you. But it means everything to them. So don’t let on that your Paw is a horse trader from some jerkwater hamlet in the backwoods. If they happen to ask, just happen to mention that he’s a plantation owner. Make up a fancy name for it, like…, uhh, Beneventum, or Belle Meade, or Rossmere. And talk about your ‘legacy.’ That’s the sort of thing that will win you friends among that bunch. Or at least, connections. Just happen to casually mention that summer you spent in England, and your holidays in France, and that private island your Pappy owns in Ontario. And most of all, stop using that word ‘nigger’. It’s vulgar. Be much more formal. Say, ‘Our Negro brethren,” or  ‘our dusky compatriots,’ or ‘our Senegambian Friends.’ It will give you an air of refinement. Now, I’m sure they feel exactly the same way about niggers as you do. But they never talk about it so openly as to use that word.”  


Geoffrey took his pipe out of his mouth for a moment to reflect. 


“Great God! I wish I’d had somebody to tell me what I just told you!

“1* SALUTATION

ARCHIE BELL & THE DRELLS

TIGHTEN UP

https://youtu.be/Wro3bqi4Eb8
ALSO SEE:

THERE’S GONNA BE A SHOWDOWN

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3Q4szMX4v8


MY BALLOON’S GOING UP

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWbQ8TEn1qs


DO THE HAND JIVE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1ZBWd8cPmw

HERE I GO AGAIN
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EciMesBeNDs

ALSO SEE:BLOOD’S A ROVER

https://books.google.com/books?id=NWYsJ4rxWNEC&pg=PA202&lpg=PA202&dq=ARCHIE+BELL+AND+THE+DRELLS+%22JAMES+ELLROY%22&source=bl&ots=K0CNa-OqrN&sig=C6XPdC0Di1YKxY6r05TIMJlekHQ&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwicopjb7eXfAhVGwFkKHUVLDMAQ6AEwBHoECAMQAQ#v=onepage&q=ARCHIE%20BELL%20AND%20THE%20DRELLS%20%22JAMES%20ELLROY%22&f=false

2*REFERENCE

RUSSIAN PRISON TATTOOS

Yes, it’s the wacky world of Russian Prison Tattoos.
mashable.com/2014/10/29/russian-prison-tattoos/

There are, indeed, three books of these, of which I am the proud owner of volume one:
uncrate.com/stuff/russian-criminal-tattoo-encyclopaedia/
vampirekillersandoceanwanderers.blogspot.com/2012/08/russian-criminal-tattoo-i-iii.html  


3*HUMOR
PIG, EATING

https://youtu.be/PnIuM-bsJPI


ALSO SEE:

THE GHASTLY GHASTLY PLAH-DOH BOY

https://youtu.be/d-H4q4DaEkw

4*NOVELTY
OSTER ELECTRIC DOG CLIPPER

What is all that brown stuff? Don’t ask. 
And that poodle looks positively pre-orgasmic, but I’d rather not go there.  https://twitter.com/pulplibrarian/status/920722727832555520?lang=ar

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST
Woman Who Made Up Firefighter Husband for Donations Charged in Scam: Officials
www.wsls.com/inside-edition/woman-who-made-up-firefighter-husband-for-donations-charged-in-scam-officials  

SEE ALSO:
If you can’t lick ’em…lick ’em.
www.wfla.com/news/police-searching-for-man-caught-on-video-licking-family-s-doorbell/1691613754  

ALSO SEE:
No Grease For You, Dummy
www.nbc4i.com/news/state-news/former-taco-bell-employee-seen-in-viral-video-denying-service-to-deaf-man-speaks-out/1690120501  


6* DAILY UTILITY
THE ENTERTAINMENT-INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX

MARK DEVLIN
THE DECLINE AND FALL OF AMERICA

https://youtu.be/k_aKvZ-V2R4?t=418


SOURCE:  
What celebrities do is important.
bigthink.com/paul-ratner/34-years-ago-a-kgb-defector-described-america-today

ALSO SEE:
MARK DEVLIN
MUSICAL TRUTH
https://youtu.be/-4J2B1o-Pyw

SEE ALSO:
LAUREL CANYON
“For What It’s Worth” had nothing to do with the war. It was essentially a musical temper tantrum about the LAPD rousing rowdy teenagers on the sunset strip.

“Bruce Palmer had a habit of getting himself arrested on a regular basis, usually on drug charges. Some of those arrests led to deportations, since both he and Young were in the country illegally. He never seems to have had much trouble getting back into the country, however, and needless to say, none of his crimes seem to have actually been prosecuted in any meaningful way.”

“Even if the song had been about anti-war protests, it still would be an odd choice for a protest song. Lyrics such as “Singing songs and carrying signs, mostly say hooray for our side,” seem to largely dismiss the concerns of protestors. And the line “nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong” seems to suggest that protestors are no better than that which they are protesting against.

“Another curious irony about the song is that it was authored by Stephen Stills, aka The Sarge, an authoritarian, law-and-order kind of guy if ever there was one. Stills himself later heaped derision on the very notion of a protest song: ‘We didn’t want to do another song like For What It’s Worth. We didn’t want to be a protest group. That’s really a cop-out and I hate that. To sit there and say, “I don’t like this and I don’t like that” is just stupid.’ “
centerforaninformedamerica.com/inside-the-lc-the-strange-but-mostly-true-story-of-laurel-canyon-and-the-birth-of-the-hippie-generation-part-xvi/  

7*CARTOON
ARCHIE CHRISTIAN COMICS

comicsalliance.com/archie-christian-comics/
www.misterkitty.org/extras/stupidcovers/stupidcomics482.html
www.christiancomicsinternational.org/series_spire.html


ALSO SEE:JACK CHICK

WHO’S THE REAL HATER?

www.chick.com/products/tract?stk=1925  


8*PRESCRIPTION
ALIAS IAN IACHIMOE

https://youtu.be/rmExREPJ7uw

SEE ALSO:
THE GIRLS ALL LOVE RAGTIME WITH THIS RINKY-DINK PIANO
www.misterkitty.org/extras/stupidcovers/stupidcomics606.html  


9* RUMOR PATROL

CAESAR’S MESSIAH
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caesar%27s_Messiah  

10*LAGNIAPPE
THE WHO

MAGIC BUS

https://youtu.be/bl9bvuAV-Ao

11*DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA
SUPERHERO MOVIES
Superhero movies with men in tights is
Every bit as loathsome as Meningitis.  


12* CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE
MOVIES ABOUT FOOD: A BRIEF HISTORY

Wings
War and Pizza
Citizen Cake 
The 3:10 to Yum  
North to Baked Alaska 
Dessert, American Style 
The Last Flan on Earth  
How to Stuff a Wild Blini 
The Dessert Fox  
To Sirloin, With Love  
 Little Fauss and Big Halva 
American Tutti-Frutti
All the Presidents Mince  
The Flan Who Fell to Earth   
Altered Steaks
Candhi 
Supperman 4: The Quest for Pizza   
I Scream
Meat the Parents  
Sunshine Biscuits 
Life of Pie
The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward John Fudge 
There Will Be Blood Orange Sorbetto 
John Bis-Gotti  

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MODERN WISDOM NUMBER 246 MID-JANUARY 2019

MODERN WISDOM

NUMBER 246

MID-JANUARY 2019
Copyright 1999, 2019 Francis DiMenno
dimenno@gmail.com

http://www.dimenno.wordpress.com    

GALA 20TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION

Duhh, it was twenty years ago today (January 15th) that the first issue of Modern Wisdom came cascading, not hot off the presses, because no paper was involved, but, rather, into your virtual mailboxes and onto a free website provider about whom the less said the better, because they went out of business sometime in 2002 and so all the stuff that was published on their site now exists only on the hard-drive of my computer, which is so old that it does not even connect to the internet. 


Much has happened in the world over the past 20 years. But I’m only interested in talking about me, so to hell with that.  Even though you don’t really care about me. So I’ll keep it short. 


During those twenty eventful and fun-packed years, I got married, and divorced. I bought a house. I went to graduate school in history and library science, where I worked in a computer lab and taught history to freshmen. I wrote a thesis about the rise and fall of EC Comics. I bought a car and I wrecked it. I bought another car, which I still drive. I went through about six full-time jobs, though not all at the same time. 


OK, that’s more than you need to know. Who do you think I am–Malcolm X? 


And so…here it is–MODERN WISDOM NUMBER ONE! Not one word has been omitted or changed! After all, why bother? (Whole paragraphs have been omitted, linking to now-defunct websites…but not one word!)

MODERN WISDOM
VOLUME ONE
NUMBER ONE
JANUARY 1999
c. 1999 Francis DiMenno

A MESSAGE FROM THE PUBLISHER

Welcome to the premiere of MODERN WISDOM.  No, on the other hand, get out
of here. This is the inaugural issue–obviously, since the words VOLUME ONE
NUMBER ONE appear in caps directly above this header. When I think of the
incredibly easy struggle involved in putting this e-zine together, I am
humbled by the realization that I have nobody to thank because I wrote the
whole thing myself; I was influenced by nobody, and without the help of a
few valued friends, associates, and colleagues, the results would have been
exactly the same. In fact, even thinking about those fools makes my blood
boil. Far from helping me, those envious scoundrels have hindered my
progress every step of the way. 


A word about The Wrong Hero is in order. Best characterized as masked,
belligerent alien comedian, he made his debut on Earth Day, April 21st, 1989
at The Middle East Cafe in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Aside from various
private parties, Elks, Moose, and VFW Halls, The Wrong Hero has performed at
Catch A Rising Star in Cambridge, MA.; Stitches in Boston, MA; Club Bohemia
in Somerville, MA;  CAV & AS220 in Providence, RI;  The Funny Farm in Louisville, KY; The Holy City Zoo in San Francisco, CA, and many other similarly obscure venues too numerous to mention. He was also comedian-in-residence at The Middle East Cafe from 1988 to 1995. [2019 UPDATE: He can currently be seen on YOUTUBE…on THE WRONG HERO NETWORK].–editor 


AND NOW…
MODERN WISDOM PRESENTS:
                
1                        THE WISDOM OF THE HERO
                                        or
2                        TOO SMART FOR THE ROOM
                                        or
                        
3                                HATE PATROL
4                        PLACE DISORDER HERE
5                THE EVIL OPPOSITE OF EVERYTHING
6                                    ALL LIES
7                                NEW CLICHES
8        THE AGONY OF VICTORY, THE THRILL OF DEFEAT
9                                    FLUCKO
10                                LOGIC BOMBS
11                                ANTI 60S MAN
12                                EARTH HOGS
13                        BABY CRIES, MAMA BUYS
14                                ANTI-AMERICA
15                        BEAUTIFUL STEREOTYPES
16                       LOOK AT MY SCREAMING FACE
17                         THE TRIUMPH OF MEAT
18                                FALLEN APE
19                TYRANNY IN ITS PUREST MODERN FORM
20                        AN AMERICAN TRAVESTY
21                 A FOUNT OF USEFUL MISINFORMATION
22                 DRUGS, GOD, ALCOHOL AND SITCOMS
23                 THE FORMULAIC SHOW
24                 NOSTALGIA MAN
25                SIR FATSO
26                DR. GOOD AND MR. BAD
27                MY DOG’S GHOST TALKS TO GOD
28                TREMBLING ON THE BRINK OF NERVOUS EXHAUSTION
29                ME NOT STUPID
30                GOD’S PICKUP LINES
31                WHAT WOULD JESUS DO RADIO STATION WWJD
32                A VERY COMMERCIAL FORM OF MENTAL ILLNESS
33                TRASHOMON
34                SOON TO BE A MINOR MOTION PICTURE
35                ADULT CHILD OF VEGETARIANS
36                WEAPONS OF MASS DISTRACTION
37                PROFESSOR RETARD: INTELLECTUAL DUMBBELL
38                THE RETARDED PROFESSOR
39                SENSIBLE TRAGEDY
40                THE BURDEN OF THE LEGACY
41                A MYTHIC ORIGINAL
42                A RATIONAL FEVER
43                THE DISPENSIBLE MAN
44                THIS IS NOT ART 
45                I AM THE BIGGEST JOKE IN THE WORLD
46                CALL ME OFFENSIVEMAN
47                WITNESS THE TERRIBLE POWERLESSNESS OF WORDS
49                ANGRY CAMPER
50                DIRTY JOKES
51                GOOFY SINGS THE BEEGEES
52                THE FOUR AD FIGURES OF THE APOCALYPSE
53                THE FOUR FEMALE TALK SHOW HOSTS OF THE APOCALYPSE
54                HECK: THE LOGIC OF DARNATION
55                AN ENGINE OF DENUNCIATION
56                XENOPHOBES GO HOME
57                THIS NONSENSE CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO CONTINUE
58                ANTI-ENTITY
59                LET THE DRUGS DO THEIR WORK
60                ALL ART IS SEXUAL HARASSMENT
61                CELEBRITIES ARE DESIGNER MYTHS
62                COMPOSITE MASTER OF INFINITE SPACE AND TIME
63                A CRASS ACT
64                THE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF DRUGS
65                SUPER-DEPRESSED MAN
66                50S MAN
67                NERVOUS TICS OF THE HACK COMIC
68                UNITED WE FALL
69                SECRET IDENTITY POLITICS
70                YO, STEP UP AND GET BEAT DOWN
71                CAPE DOES NOT ENABLE USER TO FLY
72                A FIEND IN NEED
73                CAN’T…RESIST…UNDERTOW; CAN’T…USE…SYNTAX
74                CONSPICUOUSLY NOT SPENDING MONEY
75                A TIME TO MAKE NEW ENEMIES 
                                     

76        I am the wrong hero. Alcoholic…drug addict….easy guy to shop for on
Christmas.

77        Some call me a cracker-barrel philosopher of the bourgeoisie. Others refer
to me as the avatar of the moron zeitgeist.

    78     You know…Christmas is a special time of year…a time to give
thanks…no, actually, that’s Thanksgiving. What an idiot I am!

        79  They say that Christmas comes but once a year. As opposed to most
other holidays, which happen three or four times a week.

        80  I’m from a quiet little town called Pittsburgh. The last big
thing that happened there was the Whiskey Rebellion. Folks, if I ever get
involved in a rebellion, I’d want it to be a whiskey rebellion. What’s their
political platform? HOUGHHHHHHHUH! What’s their slogan? AARGGH!

        81  This festive holiday season, I’d like for us all to pause for
just a moment to think about the forgotten people….the convicts on death
row….I think capital punishment is an ugly expression…I think we should
change it to something nice. Like “Putting the killers to sleep.” Or “Lights
out for felons.” Or “Harvesting the psychopaths.” Or “Three strikes and
you’re dead.” Or “Giving Amnesty International something to complain about.”
Or “A date with Old Sparky.” “Or “A dose of Edison’s Medicine.” [&c.]

        82  Frosty the snowman…two eyes made out of coal? How ecologically
unsound. Shouldn’t it be two eyes made out of natural gas?

        83 I grew up on an Indian reservation. We used to play Indians. When we got
bored with that, we’d play “Indians…and more fuckin’ Indians.”

        84 If I had a hammer…there’d be no more folk singers. Folk music is every
bit as oppressive as the injustices it is supposedly attempting to eradicate.

        85 Remember, you can’t spell Disneyland without…DNA. Here’s the dirty
secret behind the Magic Kingdom: all those cartoon characters are genetic
mutants. Do you doubt me? What’s with the sterile gloves… should we call
the Center for Disease Control? MICKEY MOUSE. That’s the real conspiracy.
Stands for MIC (Military Industrial Complex)…KEY (Keynesian Economic
Yoke)…MOUSE (More Of United States Engulfment).

        86  If you take too many anti-nausea pills, do you get nauseous? Or do you
never get nauseous again?

        87  I must say that I am upset with our President. Here’s the speech I wish
he would have given: “I did have sex with that woman. My wife is as frigid
as an Eskimo pie. I would rather screw Buddy, my chocolate Labrador–at
least HE moves his tail. I don’t care if I embarrassed my family–they
embarrass me. My brother Roger is a one-eyed hillbilly–shucks, he’s snorted
so much goofy dust they had to take his nose off and sew a button on! My
wife has a heart like an icicle. My daughter looks like a rhesus monkey.
Now, Ken Starr may be an honest man, but I say that making whoopie with that
intern was appropriate–best of all, it was right! And no fool is going to
tell me it’s a sin to feel that good! God bless you–and God bless America. “

        88 Bill Clinton had the prize-winning hog at the Arkansas state fair. But
they made him put it back in his pants.

        89 December was trauma awareness month. But I was too frightened to mention
it until now.

        90 Does anal-compulsive take a hyphen? WELL? DOES IT??

        91 Many comics secretly despise their audiences. I’m different. I openly
despise you amid my attempts to make nice. Let me see your lighters,
Boston–so that I can see every rotting tooth in your misshapen skulls.

        92 I was born under a lucky star. And it felt so good when they pried it
off me.

        93 I took an informal survey of the man in the street. But he had been
completely flattened by Sports Utility Vehicles.

        94 I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. And now my head is
completely crushed.
  
        95 The signs. Just once, I’d like to see some variety. Like, “Come
In–Unauthorized Personnel Only.” Or, “Vehicle will be towed at owner’s
expense–but hey, we’ll throw in two free tickets to the Ice Capades.” Or,
“No Parking At Any Time–unless you think you can get away with it.” Or,
“Speed Limit strictly enforced–unless you look like an important big shot
on his way to a board meeting.” And in ads– when they say “We’ve passed the
savings on to you”? What about all the other times? Do they keep the money
for themselves and blow it on Jagermeister, bimbos, and scratch tickets?

        96 I like to go to the Alzheimer’s Lounge–a place where everybody knows
your name…except you.

        97 First, save the whales.  Then ask the whales to save you.

        98 I took too many placebos and now I think I’m sick, but I’m not, really.

        99 What about Jesus’ gym coach? What did he say at the crucifixion? “C’mon
you sissy, that wound ain’t so bad! Gimme 20 laps!”.

        100 When punk rockers retire, I guess they’ll get anti-social security.

        101 If I were Irish, people would call me a “storyteller.”

        102 I overdo s ed on antidotes, and I’ve never felt better.

        103 They say a dog bite is worse than human bite. I say most people don’t
lick their own assholes.

        104 When you take your pet to the park to piss on trees, isn’t that just
the doggie internet ?

        105 My Dog turned 21. That’s 3 in human years.

        106 My dad was a hippie. He’d always say “Son…I’m going to teach you a
lesson I’ll never remember.”

        107 Move over butter. Fine. But nobody ever talks about “Fuck You,
margarine” or “Die, Lard, Die.”

        108 A carrot improves your vision at night. So does a hand grenade.

        109 Some bumper stickers: Honk if you’re a Canadian Goose. No baby on
board–my life is meaningless. Honk if you’ve betrayed our Lord. Caution:
Messiah on Board. Ask me about my eternal torment.

        110 What not to say to a traffic cop:  Here’s a nickel, ossifer, go buy
yourself some deodorant, cause you stink. Here’s a dollar, go buy your wife
some crack. I just do what the gun tells me to do. You should have seen how
fast I was going BEFORE I ran over the little girl.

        111 He who laughs last is sitting there laughing like an idiot, little
realizing that I could crush him like a puny ant.

        112 Growing up, we got Ms.  Hard as rocks. Didn’t melt in your mouth.
Wouldn’t even melt on the surface of mercury. THEY WERE FUCKING MS!

        113 It is well to remember that the entire universe…ought to bow down to
the might of the hero…and that it does not…is a minor annoyance which
shall soon be rectified.

        114 “The croaking raven bellows forth revenge.” Not much of a pick-up line,
but the best I can do. But recently, I’ve thought of a better one: “Hey–me
and my really dangerous criminal friends are going to go to the hazardous
materials storage dump and stay up all night eating groovy death candy till
we end up in the hospital, only you’re not invited because you’re not hip
with the in -crowd–OK?”

        115 My girlfriend is an existentialist….I gave her a disengagement ring.

        116 My motto: Can’t drive 55. Guy in back of  me: Can’t drive 85. Guy in
front of me: Can’t drive, period. That’s the definition of a shit sandwich.

        117 I believe all life is sacred. I would never harm an animal larger than
myself. I believe all life is sacred. I wouldn’t even kill a fly. I believe
all life is–whack!–got him!

        118 My dad was a liberal. So just to piss him off I brought a white girl home.

        119 You lose at Jeopardy, and what do they give you as a consolation prize?
The home version of Jeopardy. You’ve made an ass of yourself in front of
millions of people, and what’s the first thing you see when you get home? A
home version of the fiendish game that caused your downfall!

        120 My psychiatrist says I’m cured. Now I’ve got pre-traumatic relaxation
syndrome; I have a  monopolar order.

        121 I shop at the Oxymoronic Shopping Mall. The Worthless Shop sells
priceless antiques; The Value Store sells toxic junk.

        122 If Jesus were the Michelin man, would they crucify him with tire irons?

        123 If Jesus is so popular, why does he have to ask us for money every Sunday?

        124 Jesus turned the water into wine. Nowadays, that’s called enabling
behavior.

        125 What if the crucifixion were just a dice game that went terribly,
terribly wrong?

        126 You know you’re growing old when…you have to rely on formulaic
gimmicks like this.

        127 My old apartment used to smell like cat piss. The hell of it is, I
didn’t own a cat. It used to smell like the sweatband of a recently indicted
televangelist’s fedora….like the Sauna room of the Boston Patriots the
night they lost the superbowl…like Alvin Chipmunk’s laundry bag…like
Frankenstein’s dentures…like Mastodon plaque…like Godzilla had given the
place a tongue bath. And the bums! They’d stand outside on a Sunday morning
saying stuff like, “It’s a good rubbing alcohol–it’s not a great rubbing
alcohol.”

        128 I  like your attitude. Especially if you don’t like mine.

        129 I’m like an ox–got flies in my ears, worms in my belly, and I’m
standing in a puddle of my own waste products.

        130 What’ll happen when Bono learns another chord–will they call
themselves U3?

        131 You must be the famous crowd I’ve heard so much about. You’re not as
big as you look on tv.

        132 Half our life is work and the other half is spent trying to atone for it.

        133 I was taken to court. The evidence was antimatter, and the charge was
refusing to tamper with it.

        134 This I believe: television is chewing tobacco for the eyes. Too bad you
can’t spit it into a styrofoam cup when you’ve finished with it.

        135 Nothing’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Except maybe one
monkey…in a barrel…giving you that special little smile.

        136 My father has dyslexia; doesn’t mean I evah ti.

        137 The only culture Boston has today is in its frozen yogurt, and that’s
probably been dead for 100 years too. What is Boston but a hamlet blown up
to poster size? The Boston Globe is just like any small town
newspaper–typical headline, “Area Youth Wins Spelling Bee”. The only
newsworthy things that happen here are all from out of town. “Tremblors Rock
Hub. Actual Earthquake to Open in NY Next Week.”

        138 The only substitute for good manners is you sign all your assets over
to me.

        139 On the way over here I was thinking, everything’s coming my way, that’s
because I was driving on the wrong side of the Mass Pike.

        140 People sneer at the surrealists. But actually, driving is dada.
 
        141 Hey, what about those cars? I think we should call them what they
really are: “The automobile: fire, plus the wheel. Prometheus plus gasoline.
And, like fire, a good friend, but a treacherous foe. Cars: America’s first
robot slaves, which paved the way for radio, air conditioning, television,
computers, photocopiers, fax machines, and cell phones. All those people who
feel sorry for you for not having this bevy of slaves don’t realize there
are people alive today who went for years without them. Now we are the slaves
to these machines. We have been emasculated by post-industrial
technology–or at least, so my computer tells me. In fact, the computer told
me to write this. And I hear and I obey.

        142 If at first you don’t succeed, you must be destroyed.  Also, Try try
not not to repeat repeat yourself yourself again again.

        143 For every action, shut up.

        144 He who hesitates must die.

        145 The more illusory the enemy, the more ruthlessly he must be hunted down.

        146 Cigarette warning: Burning Surgeon generals contain carbon monoxide.

        147 Don’t start listening until I say something offensive.

        148 I succeed to impress people I don’t like, and the time and effort
causes me to ignore the people I love.

        149 I swear by almighty God to tell the truth, the whole truth, and by the
way, could you cash a personal check for me?

        150 I’ve got Malcolm X-ray vision–it enables me to see through white
hypocrisy.

        151 The hardness of the butter is directly proportional to the softness of
your ass.

        152 To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism; to steal from many is
research, and to steal punctuation and logic from a manuscript is called
“editing”.

        153 Politics is sports for people who are too fat to run and too stupid to
retire.

        154 What is the sound of a bell, backward. Gnnnnnnnnnnnnnnob?

        155 You never really learn to drive until you learn to swear.

        156 I don’t want to hear the word  Monday. I want to hear the word Money.

        157 Do not choose between two evils; give me your money instead.

        158 Don’t ask me to give you change for a dollar. True and lasting change
will require dismantling the whole corrupt power structure and starting all
over again.

        159 A fool and his money must report to my office immediately.

        160 My Daddy was a semi-literate ventriloquist. He moved other people’s
lips when he read.

        161 I told my girl I wanted her for my wife… who, incidentally, is a vampire.

        162 I can start drinking anytime I want to. That’s why I’m on a 12 step
program to get off of Jesus and back onto hard drugs.

         163 Everybody repeat after me…..”Destroy all conformists.”

        163 Those are the ones I’d like to kill–the hostile ones.

        164 I don’t subscribe to Scientific American I subscribe to Superstitious
Caveman. Lead story: “Fire–Bad!”

        165 If aliens are silicon-based, wouldn’t they want us to take them to our
nudie bars?

        166 Where do I see myself in five years? Hopefully, in a position to
destroy anyone who asks me that question.

        167 This week, as every week, the award for best performance by The Wrong
Hero goes to…The Wrong Hero.

        168 Drug addiction is grounds for divorce. But marriage is grounds for drug
addiction.

        169 Everybody else always ruins it for a few assholes.

        170 95% of all men masturbate in the shower. The other 5% are chimpanzees.

        171 99% of all statistics are wrong–including this one.

        172 If at first you don’t succeed, then you might try working on your
pretentious diction. Who the hell do you think YOU are–Alfred the Butler
from the Batman tv show?

        173 My parrot says: “Polly want a cracker.” I say, “Polly also want a
lesson in remedial grammar.”

        174 The Wrong Hero has been brought to you by “I’m Hungry Mix”–starving
people ask for it by name.

        175 I can see a thing without my glasses.

[The preceding was adapted from a monologue performed 12-26-98 at 209 Green
Street, Cambridge, Massachusetts.]

THE INFORMATION #1028 JANUARY 19, 2019

THE INFORMATION #1028
JANUARY 19, 2019
Copyright 2019 FRANCIS DIMENNO
dimenno@gmail.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

The intoxication of anger, like that of the grape, shows us to others, but hides us from ourselves. –John Dryden

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TWELVE: PART FORTY-FIVE: THE EASTERN GATE OF PARADISE

In the late summer days during the beginning of his third form year, Billy Batchelder Tallent discovered the joys of ether when some seniors invited him to what they later referred to as an “ether bee”.

At three a.m. one morning they woke him and silently took him and two others from among his fellows, both of them somewhat older, deep into the piney woods fringing Stropmuth Manor. By the light of a full moon, the boys walked single file about two miles down a narrow path to a cave which they named ‘Ulan Bator’ or ‘The Outer Dock’, even though it was nowhere near any of the numerous docks which speckled the shoreline of the island. While they sat and stood around a roaring campfire–a locality which made Billy uneasy, since a bonfire was where he had suffered gross indignities at the hands of the Keysars– the older boys encouraged him to follow their example and inhale the fumes of an evil-smelling, ether-soaked rag stuffed into a shoebox. They had acquired the ether, they explained, through a compliant grocer on the mainland.”It’s the pink limit,” said one of them, a Prefect named Donny Margesson, as he enthusiastically inhaled the vile fumes. “Verily. This is the real gen.”

When Billy initially demurred, the older boys taunted him.

“Donny told us you were a hard man,” they said. But no. You’re just a boy. No, you’re not a boy–you’re a girl.  You squat to piss. You’re a dribbler. You’re all wet. You’re a bath flunky, a wafty soke, a drippy squit.”

Billy Batchelder Tallent held his tongue, and patiently bore this predictable fusillade. But the boys continued their mockery.

“Why, you’re nothing better than a mug. A goopy sneak. A rotten juggins. A sawed-off jackass. Don’t be so bricky. Don’t be such a tosher. Why are you such a caggy-handed humbug?  Don’t act like a moldy swot. You’re a gumpy oik and a goofy simp. We might have known. You’re just a muff, a squirt, a blood-filled tick. You’re completely infra dig. You have no class. No class at all.”

Billy bore these comments, but with growing agitation. But soon the insults became more personal.

“Look at you! You’re just a greenie from the big stick country who thinks he’s a swanky jew. But you’re a blasted stump-jumper.  A filthy flatlander. A beastly mollycoddle. A lousy dufter. A drippy wet hen. A ghastly cad. A frightful bore. A slag. A funker. A putrid punk.”

By now, Billy’s stubborn blood was running red hot, and he was ready to attack the next boy who spoke.

However. what cinched Billy’s decision to finally give in was the mocking verdict of the “head boy” and sixth form Prefect, a supernally tall and sardonic towheaded young man named “Lon,” short for “Long,” short for Geoffrey Monmouth Long. He turned to Billy and said, “Tush-tush! Tack off, then! Go back to your pallet, Tot. You’re too green for men’s work, I reckon.” He then turned to the others in the group and said, “Lads, I say it’s crackers to slip the elixir to a blodger in snide. He just might chirp.”

“I ain’t a rat,” snarled Billy. “Ner a baby, neither.” Whereupon he snatched up the rag, held it to his face, and took a long snort. He nearly passed out, and two of the boys stood ready to catch him should he fall and injure himself. They were not concerned for Billy’s welfare so much as for their own, for the boys would be in trouble if Billy were to report to the infirmary with his injuries and decide to tell all.

The initial effects of insufflating the fumes was a mild euphoria. Billy cried out, “Yaah-Hooie”–a modified version of what he fancied to be a rebel yell. He then took another snort. At which point, there arose in him a vague excitement which made his eyes glaze over. He began to drool. And then he felt the compelling impulse to jump around and destroy everything, which he quickly proceeded to do. In fact, he went on a rampage, leaping upon the trees which ringed the campsite, tearing down as many branches as he could, and then mutilating nearby bushes with a large club fashioned out of a log he had been seated on. 

The senior boys looked askance at there antics, but their leader, Lon, simply smiled down at them and mildly remarked that everybody had his own troubled past, and that if Billy wanted to weary himself in such pursuits, where was the harm, and who were they to judge?

Billy then quickly became confused, sat down in a bed of poison oak, and promptly passed out.

After about half an hour, he recovered somewhat, and was led back to his dormitory by none other than “Long” Geoffrey Monmouth Long, who murmured manly endearments into his stupefied ear. “There you go, Buck. Come along, Reb. Just a few more steps, Injun. Keep moving, Scout. Almost there, old stiff. Now! Here! Step lively, Sir. We’re home. Well, now, off to your bed with you!”

Afterward, on learning of William Batchelder Tallent’s ether frolic, the boys of his class began to refer to him as “Silly Billy,” “Billy the Knut,” and, eventually, as ‘Master William Nutt, Esquire,” or “Mawny” for short.

Indeed, for the next three weeks, Billy walked around with a glassy-eyed stare and, unaccountably, wore red flannel long-johns under his school uniform at all times. He also began compulsively practicing the signing of his name as “Slam Brannigan the Poop.”

And, then, William Batchelder Tallent began behaving in ways even more eccentric and extravagant. He took to hoarding oranges stolen from the dining hall, hiding them in the gutter overhanging the window outside of his garret. On cold evenings these would freeze overnight, and he would then throw them from hidden places at the backs of boys who had done him an injury. He also took to collecting seashells and storing them in a birdcage suspended from a stand in the corner of his tiny room. One time he took some gingerbread and masticated and then molded it into the form of a piece of shit and left it on the seat of the outhouse, which caused an immediate sensation among the boys of his dormitory. He very nearly gave himself away with his loud laughter on hearing them murmuring the news, but the other boys did not assign the guilt to him, but instead chalked up his wild cachinnations to his generally crazed demeanor.

“Long” Geoffrey Monmouth Long encouraged him in his delinquencies, even going so far as to commend his behavior to the younger boys. “Mawny,” he said, “is afraid of nothing and nobody.”

Thus, having been provided with a ready-made reputation to live up to, Billy Batchelder Tallent lost no time in living up to it. He was a slight boy, with brown hair and brown eyes, and features of a rather dark cast, but he began to diligently test himself daily with feats of strength and was soon known to be willing to fight anybody, at any time, and for any reason. One time, when in study hall, he sought to escape its confines by exiting through the rear door, which had a pane glass window. Donny Margesson, who was the Prefect on duty that evening, stood on the other side and refused to unlock the door to let him out, so Billy smashed a pane of the glass with his fist. School legend has it that the Prefect yelped, “Why, that beats Banagher–and Banagher beats the devil!”

With the encouragement of the Head Prefect, “Long” Geoffrey Monmouth Long, Margesson hushed the incident up, and Billy was not punished, but the younger boys began to look up to “Mawny” as a kind of almost legendary figure.

Earlier in that year, at his home during summer vacation, he had taken the pledge of the Total Abstinence Society, and had also made a solemn promise to his father–in exchange for one hundred dollars in gold coins when he should turn 21–that he would never taste spirituous liquors, exempting, of course, Communion Wine, or such as prescribed by a Doctor for medicinal purposes. And so he was quite satisfied to find his new choice of intoxicant suited him just fine, and, with his thoughts ever-focused on the hundred in gold, he was also pleased to know that he was in no way violating his pledge. And so, all too soon, he became what the senior boys called “a dab hand” at the practice.


1* SALUTATION

LONG JOHN HUNTER
GRANDMA
https://youtu.be/6fcaeRLkuA4

RIDE WITH ME BABY




EL PASO ROCK/MIDNIGHT STROLL

https://youtu.be/KldaUebETNA


BORDER TOWN BLUES

https://youtu.be/0jndL-16th4


2*REFERENCE

B&N R.I.P.
https://www.axios.com/barnes-and-noble-book-stores-sale-amazon-effect-4f2753d2-818c-49d1-878a-60f0c3a5b3f7.html?fbclid=IwAR33GYzp5u9X-1D4IRDAaM4kfr3aSPJQKU0E6N7Itgt3vCHEb2Kj-xkHqLY


3*HUMOR
PROPOSED NAMES FOR AMERICAN GRAFFITI
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10215319725605392&set=a.10208520768715719&type=3&eid=ARCrw-zyih7paLpjWz2sxqtXj1F4Cmw-y_USmWKsWlw4zSUQUqfDRyX3A7YDc96XEGbrR5aJ6tuhCiEZ


4*NOVELTY
THE RACIAL DOT MAP
https://www.patheos.com/blogs/lovejoyfeminism/2018/12/the-most-sobering-thing-about-the-racial-dot-map.html?fbclid=IwAR1Vf3hvQ2ubC3kG0BM7uo5g5rFeXj_7fRBtdPBtNCZIcERUCAsRuFc8Jm8

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST

U.S. MILITARY APOLOGIZES FOR NEW YEAR NUKE TWEET:

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-46727991?SThisFB&fbclid=IwAR3iLeMz2o_lxkZ4UgVuxKT93fuBpwM6rrl9cKyHDZa4FxjPw6gPpWIyM6o

6* DAILY UTILITY

NEVER LEAVE YOUR PET ALONE

https://www.facebook.com/animalloveinme/videos/109206449966692/

7*CARTOON

KOOL-ADE COMMERCIAL
https://www.facebook.com/ira.gallen/videos/10156688091966063/


ALSO SEE:MICKEY AND PLUTO FOR THE 1955 NASH

https://www.facebook.com/ira.gallen/videos/10156690289511063/UzpfSTc0OTU2NjAxODoxMDE1NzE2MzEzMDI0NjAxOQ/

ALSO SEE:

POGO’S LATE EARLY POOP ON THE JACK ACID SOCIETY

forrestcrow.proboards.com/thread/19402/pogos-late-early-poop-society  

8*PRESCRIPTION
TEN STRANGEST EYELASH EXTENSIONS
www.oddee.com/item_97496.aspx

SEE ALSO:
EIGHT ANCIENT WRITING SYSTEMS THAT HAVEN’T BEEN DECIPHERED YET
mentalfloss.com/article/12884/8-ancient-writing-systems-havent-been-deciphered-yet


9* RUMOR PATROL

WELLAWARE
“A rabbit hole of crazy.”–Jim MacQuarrie

http://wellaware1.com/?fbclid=IwAR3bUvnCrHWP1TJup1Z66YwJRnTjFoyzxZxtNmKXzSu7aPqnen5k1YgwET0
10*LAGNIAPPE

SPREADIN’ HONEY

THE WATTS 103RD STREET RHYTHM BAND

https://youtu.be/EFXXBybn8Ho

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

A television station in Rochester, New York, fired a meteorologist Sunday after he used a racial slur on air.

During WHEC-TV’s Friday evening broadcast, Jeremy Kappell said “Martin Luther Coon Park,” when referring to a downtown Rochester park named after slain civil rights movement leader Martin Luther King Jr.

In a video viewed by CNN, Kappell says “King” immediately after using the slur and continues with the broadcast.
Kappell said his use of the slur was a mistake caused by speaking too quickly.  www.cnn.com/2019/01/07/us/new-york-meteorologist-racial-slur/index.html


What the racists really called MLK back in the 60s was “Martin Lucifer Coon.”

And the initials of the NAACP once stood for something quite different among their kind.
content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,897077,00.html

Nor have we advanced a whole lot.
www.dissentmagazine.org/online_articles/more-than-bad-taste-the-chimp-cartoon-and-the-n-y-post


Fun fact: Andrew Johnson, meeting with Frederick Douglass:

Johnson, in a rambling and self-justifying speech, assured Douglass that he was a friend to black people. “I have owned slaves and bought slaves,” he said, “but I never sold one.” In truth, Johnson had no intention of taking a stand against black codes or debating equal rights or signing a Civil Rights Act. After Douglass left, Johnson scoffed to an aide, “He’s just like any nigger, and he would sooner cut a white man’s throat than not”.
www.the-tls.co.uk/articles/public/lepore-american-civil-war/  


Racists often used hurtful expressions.
books.google.com/books?id=3MVqkpBOcDkC&pg=PA92&lpg=PA92&dq=%22BLACK+AS+MELTED+MIDNIGHT%22&source=bl&ots=1TwsAG4AKh&sig=5Q6SeU-QRX2yNCPHXBBMVzeNbgA&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj2_9TW2N7fAhWnuVkKHaX7DkQQ6AEwB3oECAcQAQ#v=onepage&q=%22BLACK%20AS%20MELTED%20MIDNIGHT%22&f=false


books.google.com/books?id=wiB6CgAAQBAJ&pg=PA111&lpg=PA111&dq=%22BLACK+AS+MELTED+MIDNIGHT%22&source=bl&ots=AsnQskVe07&sig=op3FQ-5r3djK581IHKkOJ7mrjOQ&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj2_9TW2N7fAhWnuVkKHaX7DkQQ6AEwC3oECAMQAQ#v=onepage&q=%22BLACK%20AS%20MELTED%20MIDNIGHT%22&f=false


12* CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE

PAUL MCCARTNEY ALBUMS RANKED WORST TO BEST
http://ultimateclassicrock.com/paul-mccartney-albums-ranked/?fbclid=IwAR2SgbKNKK_1ZALHGlRmdJs6yy4fj6Avj6v2kvYy2JrzlnRKAWD_o3oJBeA

THE INFORMATION #1027 JANUARY 11, 2019

THE INFORMATION #1027
JANUARY 11, 2019
Copyright 2019 FRANCIS DIMENNO
dimenno@gmail.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

“In the course of my life I have had pre-pubescent ballerinas; emaciated duchesses, dolorous and forever tired, melomaniac and morphine-sodden; bankers’ wives with eyes hollower than those of suburban streetwalkers; music-hall chorus girls who tip creosote into their Roederer when getting drunk…

I have even had the awkward androgynes, the unsexed dishes of the day of the *tables d’hote* of Montmartre. Like any vulgar follower of fashion, like any member of the herd, I have made love to bony and improbably slender little girls, frightened and macabre, spiced with carbolic and peppered with chlorotic make-up.

Like an imbecile, I have believed in the mouths of prey and sacrificial victims. Like a simpleton, I have believed in the large lewd eyes of a ragged heap of sickly little creatures: alcoholic and cynical shop girls and whores. The profundity of their eyes and the mystery of their mouths… the jewellers of some and the manicurists of others furnish them with *eaux de toilette*, with soaps and rouges. And Fanny the etheromaniac, rising every morning for a measured dose of cola and coca, does not put ether only on her handkerchief. “–Jean Lorrain, Monsieur De Phocas  


WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TWELVE: PART FORTY-FOUR: THE EASTERN GATE OF PARADISE


It was during his second form year that Billy Batchelder Tallent began to be accepted among his peers, who introduced him to all sorts of practices such as gambling, consorting with lasses of easy virtue, and brandy-drinking, all of which were practices frequently indulged in by many of the older boys.

This last practice was the one most deleterious to his studies, for after an drinking party out in the woods with his fellows, he was useless at attending to his studies for most of the following day.

The Monks were aware of these parties, although they did not know who the ringleaders were, and they made their displeasure at the practice known from the pulpit of the murky wooden chapel, illuminated by spermaceti candles and redolent of the fumes of incense, which stung the eyes and instilled in the boys a faint sense of guilt.

Brother Damianos was the one who was selected to thunder against the practice of drinking. He employed a sophistic approach, as befit his nature, as well as that of the school’s headmaster, a smiling man with pearly white teeth who was seldom seen on campus, because he spent a good deal of his time traveling far and wide to recruit new students to his monastic school. 

“We are greatly blessed, brethren, to live in the greatest country that has ever existed or that has ever even been conceived of. For what are the glories of Greece and the splendors of Rome? Though important in their day, they fade into insignificance when contrasted with these mighty United States. I would rather live in this great and wonderful time than in any other. For we have adopted grand new traditions while still retaining the best of the old, and the tried and true, practices of our hallowed forefathers. No longer do we, like the superstitious savage of yore, look at the sky and imagine a legion of pagan gods assembled in the inky blackness of the enormous night sky so circular and all-encompassing. No–for, in addition to having great scientific knowledge which would be the envy of a man living but a century ago, we can also rest content in the certitude that we know our redeemer liveth. We are doubly blessed, for not only do we apprehend that our most intelligent men can solve any of our most pressing problems with concatenated brain-power, as well as good-old American know-how, but we also know the old ways are the best ways, and if something was good enough for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, it is quite good enough for us. 

“However, we are living in an age of knowledge. The telegraph and the railroad have contributed immeasurably to reducing the size of the world. I speak, of course, not literally, but figuratively, but nevertheless, the effect is the same.  Where once the man who was born of wealth was the one who was most admired, the reign of such a man is being shared, and may someday even be superseded, by the man who is both of noble birth as well as being well-educated to take his proper place in a society of his like-blooded and like-minded peers. The nitroglycerin of ratiocination is enough in these parlous times, to move mountains. Let it never be said that the practical man can find no succor in the cabals of the learned and wise. 

“However, for Catholic boys, such as yourselves, with such knowledge must come, at all times, a sense of what is just. From pillar to post, all the world must be made to bend to the light and the might of Christian justice; and justice demands clarity. For this is a world of fuss and feathers, and men and even women and small boys are constantly arguing over the great issues of the day. To see our way through this thicket of bewilderment we require, above all, a clear mind. The farmer and the small merchant, as inestimable as such men may be, are not up to this task. It is a burden which much be shouldered by the educated laymen who form the natural aristocracy of this country. Indeed, this is a task which will someday, and sooner, not later, fall upon and be manfully shouldered by all of you boys assembled here today. 

“One thing which Jesus would disapprove of most strenuously and ostentatiously is the vulgar habit, popular among low Irishmen and Germans and other such riff-raff, of tasting hard liquor and insufflating the intoxicating fumes of ether. Why should a man seek oblivion by making of himself a beast? Is this not a sin? I, for one, maintain that if this behavior is not sinful, then nothing is. For a person of weak or, admittedly, immature mind who knowingly surrenders his reason to a stupefacient drug is a person who has all but sold his soul to Satan. Such a person would no doubt spiral down the long and slippery slope in which a belief in Tarot Cards and Astrology will follow; and soon, all too soon, there would arise in him an unwholesome interest in forbidden texts and forbidden knowledge, leading to the study and the ultimate emulation of satanic deeds.

“I say to you now, in all seriousness, that if you wish to grow up to be strong men who do not quail at hard measures; if you long to shine on Wall Street; in the halls of the University; in the fields of science and law; if you aspire someday to create great works of art; of architecture; of literature; if you hope at some future time by your actions to seek to put into practical operation the teachings and precepts of Jesus of Nazareth and sway and even shape public opinion; if you intend at some blessed juncture  to emulate our President Hayes or even Lincoln; then to you I say that you must do as they did. You must now and forevermore eschew the use of hard liquors and all other stupefacients. 

“For your healthy body is a sacred temple; your immaculate mind is a precious gem! Do not, O do not sully them in the thrall of  a depraved influence to pursue a transient and dastardly thrill!

“Remain forever free of the use of stimulants and intoxicants! If you can do this thing, then ‘the very gates of hell shall not prevail against you.’ If you can not, then, in the immortal words of Dante, ‘Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate.'” 

After hearing that rousing speech, Billy Batchelder Tallent was resolved to lose no time in consuming brandy, swallowing laudanum, and drinking ether.

And he was to have the chance to do all of these things–soon enough.

1* SALUTATION

TODD RUNDGREN

THE NIGHT THE CAROUSEL BURNED DOWN

https://youtu.be/6nFgfzTXlEw


ALSO SEE:

THE NAZZ

IF THAT’S THE WAY YOU FEEL

https://youtu.be/rsvCVmUzx10


COMPARE:

NAZZ

OLD TIME LOVEMAKING

https://youtu.be/_eIvLUTQoXw


LAURA NYRO

SWEET BLINDNESS

https://youtu.be/nZFD7gH1mJg

2*REFERENCE

IN RE: IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE: POTTERSVILLE VS. BEDFORD FALLS 

I’d rather live in swinging Pottersville than stodgy fucking Bedford Falls.  

Stupid Uncle Billy wouldn’t last a week in Pottersville.

And if George Bailey’s pals tried to mooch money to get him out of dutch, they would have been given the breeze. 
Bright lights, screeching floozies, trigger-happy cops, all-nite drinking, bar-room brannigans–what’s not to love about Pottersville?

Apparently, I am not alone in this conviction.
www.salon.com/2001/12/22/pottersville/

And Nick the Bartender really comes into his own in Pottersville.
atomicjunkshop.com/side-characters-its-wonderful-life/


3*HUMOR
“HOLMES AND WATSON” IS SO BAD VIEWERS ARE WALKING OUT

http://share.ew.com/0h8INhP?fbclid=IwAR0Jamo9gdWoVqy3yunhRd9CWxWFa_Odd4wM16nxPMy44DUUYVOQmyUKPgc

ALSO SEE:

TIFFANY HADDISH WALKOUTS

https://pagesix.com/2019/01/01/fans-walk-out-of-tiffany-haddishs-new-years-eve-show/


LOUIS C.K. WALKOUTS

https://uproxx.com/viral/louis-ck-parkland-shooting-reactions/

4*NOVELTY
VEGETABLES BRED FROM WILD MUSTARD

https://www.bestfoodfacts.org/food-facts-broccolis-wild-roots/


5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST

U.S. MILITARY APOLOGIZES FOR NEW YEAR NUKE TWEET:

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-46727991?SThisFB&fbclid=IwAR3iLeMz2o_lxkZ4UgVuxKT93fuBpwM6rrl9cKyHDZa4FxjPw6gPpWIyM6o

6* DAILY UTILITY

NEVER LEAVE YOUR PET ALONE

https://www.facebook.com/animalloveinme/videos/109206449966692/

7*CARTOON

JIMMY HATLO
THEY’LL DO IT EVERY TIME
hairygreeneyeball.blogspot.com/2009/05/theyll-do-it-every-time.html
hairygreeneyeball2.blogspot.com/2009/08/more-theyll-do-it-every-time.html
hairygreeneyeball2.blogspot.com/2010/08/still-more-theyll-do-it-every-time.html

HARRY SHORTEN
THERE OUGHTA BE A LAW
hairygreeneyeball.blogspot.com/2009/01/there-oughta-be-law.html
paranoiastrikesdeep.blogspot.com/2012/06/there-oughta-be-law.html

8*PRESCRIPTION

THE FIVE MOST ADDICTIVE SUBSTANCES

https://www.cnn.com/2019/01/02/health/most-addictive-substances-partner/index.html

9* RUMOR PATROL

CONSPIRANOIA

Don’t get me wrong. I love hardcore conspiranoia. As entertaining speculative fiction.  

James Shelby Downard’s KING/KILL 33 is the reigning champ. (tl;dr: Masons killed JFK!)

https://www.revisionisthistory.org/kingkill33.html
https://archive.org/stream/KingKill33V2_201604/King%20Kill%2033%20V2_djvu.txt
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Shelby_Downard


I believe I first heard of the term from the book of the same title:https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/977125.Conspiranoia_  

But I am also well aware that hardcore conspiracy theories are sports for people who live in their stepmother’s laundry room.  Their arguments usually go something like this: “They called Jesus a madman. So I know that they’re also hiding the truth about 9/11. Therefore, shut up. Q.E.D.”


I have also been told that if I don’t believe in conspiracy fairies and pixie dust, I must be some kind of purblind, “fact”-avoiding robot.  This, from the sort of people who on their library card application, under “occupation,” write: “Proving Oswald was a patsy.”  Their motto seems to be: “We hold these self-evidences to be truth.”  


I have been arguing on Quora with a “Johnson ducked” diehard.It got pretty ugly. I came to the conclusion that some of these conspiracy buffs are worse than religious fanatics. Not one of them is willing to say “I may be mistaken.” They have too much time and too many emotions invested in their central delusion. They desperately need a crash course in logic and debate tactics. It would also help if they got their information from a variety of printed sources.  

But no. So I have resolved to never debate hardcore conspiracists. Because you’re basically attacking their religion. And, like bratty children, in response to all your requests for some actualy evidence, they will respond by chanting, “Nyahh Nyahh! Nyahh Nyahh! I know something you don’t know!”  

I have come to the conclusion that  Oligarchs and conspiracy theorists are similar in being zealots who cherry-pick their facts to suit their ideologies.  And that,  For the most part, conspiracy theorists are useful idiots who act to disprove the very insights they attempt to promulgate.

It’s quite possible that the REAL conspiracy theory is that their mothers probably smoked and drank when they were pregnant.

However, if you like this sort of thing, I would recommend James Ellroy’s astonishing Underworld U.S.A. trilogy. Also, Don DeLillo’s Libra. Also, Peter Levenda’s Sinister Forces trilogy, though good luck finding it in a library. Bugliosi’s book is the single most comprehensive source–other than the full Warren Report, which I own but have not read–on the Oswald-as-lone-assassin thesis.


SEE ALSO:

RECLAIMING HISTORY: THE ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT
JOHN F. KENNEDY. By Vincent Bugliosi.

News flash–Oswald acted alone.

At least, according to Vince Bugliosi, in his
2,500-page fifty-dollar hardcover book RECLAIMING
HISTORY. (“It’ll kill your dog if you drop it.”)

My beef with Bugliosi, if I have only one, is that he
writes like a prosecutor talks. Not surprising, since
that what he is. But I miss the gravitas of a serious
historian. Bugliosi has a nasty tendency to ridicule
his opposition (and even his putative allies like
Posner) with ad hominem attacks, and make arguments
from authority–both his own, and that of those who
back up the lone assassin single-bullet theory. At the
same time, he ridicules his opposition for their credulity
yet he doesn’t always carefully weigh the reasons
behind their conclusions, an assessment which would be
invaluable. But he isn’t up to the task, nor does he
seem to consider this within the scope of his main
text. (In addition to the 1600 page main text, the
endnotes, on a CD Rom, take up another over 950
pages).

What Bugliosi seems to want to accomplish is simple:
He wants to prove that Oswald could have acted alone.
Some of his explanations are rather ingenious–almost
as ingenious as those of the conspiracy theorists.

Love him or hate him, Bugliosi makes a pretty
compelling case that Oswald did indeed fire that
not-so-trashy Manlicher Carcano, and that, using the
iron sight, he could make one head shot out of three
in the time indicated by the Zapruder film.

As for the magic bullet–it’s long been known that
Connolly was not seated directly in front of JFK, and
that the trajectory of the bullet is consistent with a
point of origin at the 6th floor window. Bugliosi asks
the simple question–if there was a second bullet that
struck Connolly separately, where did it go?

Nobody…has…ever found…that bullet.

(Cue spooky music.)

As for Jack Ruby? Aww, that nutty rascal Ruby snuck
down the ramp. He was very good at gatecrashing. Also,
he was well-known for bringing the cops pastrami
sandwiches during the late shift.

You could tell the cops were REALLY pissed off that
Jack iced Oswald. Their response when Oswald was
gut-shot?

“Jack–you son of a bitch!”

Bugliosi insists that he’s only interested in the
facts, not in suppositions. But Bugliosi makes some
suppositions of his own–he claims that Oswald’s FBI
contacts were minor, and his CIA contacts nonexistent.
(“[There is not] one iota of evidence connection
Oswald to any…’cut-out’….”–p.1247)

Bugliosi also claims, somewhat more convincingly, that
Ruby’s mob contacts were apparently very much
overstated. (Ruby’s pistol was actually registered to
a Dallas cop. That’s how tight he was with the
fuzz.) And few people who’ve read Ruby’s testimony to
the Warren investigation would believe he was fearful
of being rubbed out by the mob. (It was the
anti-Semitic John Birchers who he thought were after
his family.)

Bugliosi also supposes that the Mob in the 1960s
wouldn’t have recruited a blabbermouthed benzedrine
addict like Jack Ruby to rub out Oswald. Not their
style. And that sounds about right, though it’s still
a supposition.

Another caveat that makes this less than a five-star
book: I noticed, when reading the bibliography, that
many of Bugliosi’s sources are less than scholarly.
Also, that he appears to have never read the Covert
Action in Cuba 1959-61 Gov’t report (though he did
read the one on Chile). And also, that the most
noteworthy things he seems to have to say all revolve
around his own common sense and the conspicuous lack
of same displayed by “conspiracy buffs”.

Going through the 958 pages of endnotes, which are on
a CD-ROM, is rough sledding. But there is a lot of
good material buried there. On en103, for instance,
there is a tantalizing reference to Oswald, right
after the Tippit murder, allegedly ducking into the
Abundant Life Temple, “member of the right-wing
American Council of Christian Churches
(ACCC)…allegedly funded by H.L. Hunt and Clint
Murchison. There’s a potential can of worms!

The endnotes are well-worth the trouble (and
eye-strain) to read.

Digging through them, we discover, among other things:

en330fn: “Jackie was hauling ass to save her
ass.”–Lenny Bruce. [Unlike his first comment
following the Kennedy assassination–“Poor VAUGHN
MEADER!”–this crack got him in a lot of trouble.
Ditto Malcolm X and his sage comment “The chickens
have come home to roost.”]

en335fn: “Zapruder never looked through a camera
again.” [I could see why….]

en418fn: “Unlike nearly all ordinary conspirators,
Kennedy’s killer’s intentionally left evidence behind
in the archives and the Warren Commission volumes that
could expose them–evidence that only the
conspiracists are smart and industrious enough to
uncover.” [Some of Mr. Bugliosi’s heavy-handed sarcasm
here.]

en934: Doyle Gedney and Abrams. [Not a law firm–the
names of the three tramps.]

en1021: John Armstrong claims an Oswald/MKUltra link.
[Intriguing if true, but….]

en1037: Oak Cliff’s Top Ten Record Shop was allegedly
frequented by Oswald, Marina, Tippit, and Ruby.
[Wonder what music they talked about? Probably Phil
Spector….]

en1115: According to one witness, Ruby allegedly
masturbated one of his dogs. [Ecch….]

en1198fn(685): Insiders…never place the word ‘the’
before ‘CIA’. [Good to know, I guess, in case I ever
try to infiltrate their fortress.]

en1455fn: “Oswald’s military income in 1957 was
$1,150.00.” [Wow! No wonder Oz was tight with a buck!
Incidentally, the Warren commission managed to figure
out his 1963 expenses and assets to within 19 bucks.
Oswald spent $19 less than they calculated, and he
left the world with assets of $183.00 and change,
$170.00 of which he left to Marina. I guess he really
was a Commie, if he performed the assassination on a
pro bono basis!]

We may well ask, why does Bugliosi dredge up the whole
sorry story, 43 years later? In part, I suspect,
because the response of the American public to the
assassination was unprecendented.Two weeks after 22
November, one Dallas businessman was refused service
by an indignant Chicago cabbie who sussed out where he
was from. (On the other hand, Bugliosi does not cite
the response of Dallas middleschoolers who cried
“Goodie!” when they heard that JFK had been iced.)

But his ostensible reason is much more basic: He
wishes to show how ludicrous and illogical the various
theories surrounding the assassination have become.
(In the endnotes he quotes an authoritative source who
states there are close to 1,000 books about the
assassination alone.) As he puts it: conspiracy
theorists are perfectly rational folk, once you get
past the fact that they live in a “world of insane
suppositions” (443); they are mostly “extremely
gullible” (978fn); and trying to convince them of the
truth is like “talking to a man without ears” (1438).

I would guess that by about 2050 the K assassination
talk will have just about exhausted itself, and it is
precisely then that some new rabble-rouser will come
up with some Startling Revelation. I expect to be
alive for it.

Incidentally, the 1978 House Investigation said King was
probably assassinated as part of a conspiracy. The
King family believes it too. And Bugliosi himself
states that he believes that the RFK assassination
bears further scrutiny.

Ah well, I guess we can expect the definitive account
of this tome from the New York Review of Books,
whenever they manage to get around to it.

10*LAGNIAPPE

THE SYNDICATE

THE EGYPTIAN THING

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8LwpeFbC6c


ALSO SEE:

BACK FROM THE GRAVE ANTHOLOGY VOLUME THREE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dmhhp4-x4PE&feature=youtu.be

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

WOMAN WONDER!

Long Story Short: Originally, National Periodical Comics (later DC) and AA (All-American Comics), where Wonder Woman debuted, were separate companies which later merged.

William Gaines’ father Max headed up All-American, but when the two companies finally merged to form DC, Max split off to form EC (Educational Comics).

EC briefly published their own Wonder Woman knock-off, Moon Girl.

Max died in a tragic boating accident and his son William Gaines took over, and renamed the company EC (Entertaining Comics).

So really, in the MAD parody “Woman Wonder,” Gaines was allowing Kurtzman to make fun of the flagship character of his father’s line.

Very Oedipal.  

SEE:”WOMAN WONDER!’

BY HARVEY KURTZMAN & BILL ELDER

FROM MAD #10

http://jeffoverturf.blogspot.com/2011/09/woman-wonder-bill-elder-mad-mondays.html

*11A BOOKS READ AND REVIEWED

36 GREAT IDEAS. ****

100 DAYS IN URANIUM CITY. DE NOMME. ****

ACTION COMICS. 80 YEARS OF SUPERMAN. ***1/2

AMAZING SPIDER-MAN EPIC COLLECTION: VENOM. ***1/2

ANN FRANK’S DIARY. FOLMAN & POLONSKY. ****1/2

APPOINTMENT IN SAMARRA. O’HARA. ****1/2

THE ART OF THE GRAPHIC MEMOIR. HART. ****

ASTONISHING X-MEN OMNIBUS. ****

BATMAN 7. THE WEDDING. ****

BATMAN: SINS OF THE FATHER. GAGE. ****

CLICK. PHILIPS. ***

CLUELESS: ONE LAST SUMMER. ***

THE COMET 1. COMBUSTION. **

CRUSH. CHMAKOVA. ****

DEADPOOL: ASSASSIN 1. ***1/2

DEATHBED. WILLIAMSON. ***1/2

DOMINO 1. KILLER INSTINCT. SIMONE. ****

DRUGS AS WEAPONS AGAINST US. POTASH. ****

DULL MARGARET. BROADBENT. ****1/2

ESCAPING WARS & WAVES. KUGLER. ****

EXILES 1. TEST OF TIME. ***

A FAMILY SECRET. HUEVAL. ****1/2

FLASH 6. OUT OF TIME. **1/2

FLORESCENT MUD. HOWEY. ***1/2

GOTHAM CITY GARAGE 2. ***

GRENELIERS 2. TAKARAI. **1/2

GRAVEDIGGERS UNION 2. ***

GREAT UTOPIAN & DYSTOPIAN WORKS OF LITERATURE. BEDORE. ***1/2

THE HIDDEN WITCH. OSTERTAG. ***1/2

INVINCIBLE ULTIMATE COLLECTION 12. KIRKMAN. ***1/2

JANE AUSTEN: HER HEART DID WHISPER. SANTONI. ****

LIKELY STORIES. GAIMAN. ****1/2

THE LONESOME WHISTLE’S CALL. BURNS. ***1/2

MAESTROS. SKROCE. ****1/2

THE MAN OF STEEL 1. BENDIS. ****

MONK! DAOUDI. ****1/2

THE MOST BRILLIANT THOUGHTS OF ALL TIME. SHANAHAN. ****1/2

MOTHER PANIC 1. GOTHAM A.D. ***1/2

“NICE GUYS FINISH SEVENTH”. KEYES. ****

NO MATTER HOW LOUD I SHOUT. HUMES. ****

NORMANDY GOLD. ABBOTT & GAYLIN. ***1/2

PASSING FOR HUMAN. FINCK. ****

PAUL JOINS THE SCOUTS. RABAGLIATI. ****

PIERO. BAUDOIN. *****

PROGRAMMED TO KILL. MCGOWAN. ****

THE QUOTABLE SIXTIES. KIRKPATRICK. ***

SACRED CREATURES 1. A MIXTURE OF MADNESS. ****

THE SECRET LOVES OF GEEKS. **1/2

THE SOUL OF AMERICA. MEACHAM. ****

THANOS. THE INFINITY CONFLICT. ***1/2

THE THREE ESCAPES OF HANNAH ARENDT. KRIMSTEIN. ****1/2

TO BUILD A FIRE. CHABOUTE. *****

TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD: A GRAPHIC NOVEL. FORDHAM. ****1/2

UNBEATABLE SQUIRREL GIRL 9. ****

UNDERBOSS. MAAS. ***1/2

UNDERSTANDING THE F-WORD/ MCGOWAN. ****

UNDERTAKER: RISE OF THE DEADMAN. *

UNWRITTEN LAWS. RAWSON. ***1/2

UPGRADE SOUL. DANIELS. ****

VENOM 4. THE NATIVITY. ***

WATERSNAKES. SANDOVAL. ****1/2

WEIRD SCENES INSIDE THE CANYON. MCGOWAN. ****

X-MEN: GRAND DESIGN. PISKOR. ***1/2

X-MEN GOLD 7. GODWAR. ***1/2

ZENOBIA. BURR & HORNEMAN. *****

ZERO’S JOURNEY. **

12* CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE

TODD RUNDGREN

Say what you will about Todd Rundgren, but at least he’s good at diffidently beggin’ for sex. See “Hello, It’s Me.”

But, to his credit, Todd eventually became a boss pimp. See “We Gotta Get You a Woman.”  

I wonder how he feels about his self-titled album coming in at number 1000 out of 1000.  


As for his place in history, Todd wuz robbed–by the Cowboy Junkies.
www.rocklistmusic.co.uk/virgin_1000_v3.htm

MODERN WISDOM NUMBER 245 JANUARY 2019

MODERN WISDOM NUMBER 245

JANUARY 2019

Copyright 2019 Francis DiMenno

dimenno@gmail.comhttp://www.dimenno.wordpress.com    

CITIZEN RUANE

APPENDIX ONE

BILLY BUDD, SUPERSTUD [AKA “BILLY RUANE, SUPERSTAR”] 

Bands:Book my band, we are number one/Take me on, I’m the best around/Drink all the beer and wine you choose/Drown yourselves in yards of booze/Book my band we are really fun/Please give me an extended run/Drink all the beer and wine you choose/Drown yourselves in yards of booze/Promise us a guarantee/They just booked us down the block/Let your father pay the tab/Get the owners out of hock

Billy:

My club should be filled/With happy stage divers/But you have filled it with connivers!/Shut up! Shut up!

I’m almost out of here/Getting sick of beer/I have booked this place for three years/Now I’m 30, now I’m 30…/

BOOK MY BAND

Bands:

Book my band or we can’t get booked/Pay up front or we’re going to walk/Someone said that your Daddy’s rich/Pay up front or we’re gonna talk/I’m in the tank and I can’t make bail/Stranded here and I can’t pay rent/Someone said that your daddy’s rich/Take the loot and let’s all get bent/Will you book will you pay me Budd,/Will you book will you feed me Budd,/Won’t you book you can pay my bills,/Won’t you look you can cure my ills

Billy:

I don’t like you—or your music/It’s all too damn—confusin’/Book yourselves!

NOTHING YOU SAY WORKS NOW

Layla:

My father is crazy, thinks that I’m lazy/Thinks that you are scary/I think that he’s right and I’m going to leave/

Billy:

Then I’ll have to stay up all night,/Stay and knock on your door all night

Layla:

You can try, you can try,/But I won’t let you in no-how

I DON’T LOVE TO KNOW HIM

Layla:

I do not love to know him/If I even turn him on/He’ll never change—/he’s so deranged/I haven’t got a wink of sleep/He’s knocking at my door/Oh, how I’d love to lose him/Can’t he see how he hounds me/A crazy man, a lazy man,/If he doesn’t treat me like a whore,/Is he a fairy boy—/or just a bore?/Should I go berserk,/ should I lose my keys,/I should break my leg,/I should break his knees/Oh how I hope he’ll go away/Hope he’ll leave me be—/I for one think that he’s crazy/It’s a part of his condition/He has always been/So mad, so crazed,/ I’m so amazed/That he can book a show/He doesn’t know/I always hoped he’d give me up/Wished he’d leave me be/But since the day he’s met me/He’s been almost single-minded/I’m his hope—his only hope/I’ll drive him mad—I’ll go away/I’m going to have to go/He makes me mad/He makes me sad/His love is bad

PAID FOR ALL MY TIME

Chris:

If I start to book I have to have control/I can’t be treated like some kind of scruffy prole/I’ll have to stop the work I’m doing on my book/I can’t be treated like some sort of nerdy schnook/You can’t afford to pay me what you really should/So my reward will be to try to do some good/I just hope that I’m/Paid for all my time/

I have to book I have to be the only one/People might start to say it isn’t fun/I would be surprised if Billy thought so too/Billy is the one who hooked me up with you/You can’t afford to pay me what you really should/So my reward will be to try to do some good/I just hope that I’m/Paid for all my time

Michael you’re a vet a couple years at work/Eric you’re my roommate and you’re not a jerk/We have to make a profit/We have to pay the crew/And if it means don’t pay the bands that’s what we gotta do/You can’t afford to pay me what you really should/So my reward will be to try to do some good/I just hope that I’m/Paid for all my time

Michael:

I don’t want to hear it, of course we will pay you/Just don’t make me count receipts at the door

Eric:

His dad has the papers he needs to commit him/You know his habits—habits and more.

Michael:

We’ll tell everyone it’s an interim booking

Eric:

We’ll pay you a salary, Fridays at four/We just need to know when he’ll be at Foley’s

Mike:If they catch him drinking

Eric:

They’ll put him in jail.

Chris:

I don’t need this assignment

Eric:

Think for a minute—you’ll get paid from the bar.

Chris:

I don’t want this assignment

Mike:

You might as well do it/You’re the best one so far

Eric:

Think of the bands you could bring with your bookings/Hardcore and reggae;/ Upside-Down Cross/And if you hate reggae and if you hate hardcore/Then simply don’t pay ‘em cause you are the, you are the, you are the boss.

Chris:

On Saturday he is always at Foley’s/Far far away from the Moynihans and Smoleys

Choir:

Let’s go get him, let’s go get him

FREE HOT DOGS

Club staff:

We don’t want to have to mind our manners/We just want to eat and drink for free/And we want to get all our pay each Friday/That’s the only think on which we all agree/Glad we work here part-time at the Middle/Glad that all our friends get in for free/Glad that we can give all the bands the what for/That’s the only thing on which we all agree

Billy:

I’m nuts/I’d fire you all /except I have no guts/I think just for tonight/ I’ll get wasted/Taste a side of life I’ve never tasted/I’m nuts/This is my mind I lose/Losing my mind with booze/If I can forget myself when I get drunk/I must be mad thinking I can forget no/Can’t get her out of my head/I’d get out my blank checkbook, give my whole allowance/If I could share her bed!/Who will take over?/ Who will take over?

Club staff:

Not I? Who would? Impossible…

Billy:

FSAD will expose me in one of his columns/He will tell stories—and that’s all he’ll do/One of my new hires/One of my club bookers/Will see I get fired

Chris:What do you mean, ‘fired’?You will be committed

Billy:

Why don’t you call my dad

Chris:

I don’t even like him

Billy:

Hurry, time’s a wasting

Chris:

Maybe I should call him

Billy:

I don’t care if you call him

Chris:

Once you employed me/Now you deplore me

Billy:

Go, call my father

Chris

You want me to call him!

I don’t even like him

Why should he commit you?/Maybe you deserve it!

Billy:

So what? Shut up!/ Go and call/Who cares if he commits me—/I need a rest—Go!

Club Staff:

We don’t want to have to mind our manners/We just want to eat and drink for free/Pay is by the hour give us lots of power/That’s the only thing on which we all agree/Always hoped I’d work here at the Middle/Glad that all our friends get in for free/Glad that we can put all the bands in their place/That’s the only thing on which we all agree/

Chris:

You—impresario!/You can’t promote a show!/To make things even worse/Everyone already knows/You’re a crazy lunatic/And you love a crazy chick/A crazy lunatic/A crazy lunatic/And you love a crazy crazy/ crazy Loony chick.

Billy:

Go call him! Go call him!/He’s on call, waiting for you!

Chris:

Every time you book the club I don’t understand/How you let the Foul-Mouthed Elves get so out of hand/You’d have managed better if you’d had them banned—

Club staff:

We don’t want to have to mind our manners/We just want to eat and drink for free/And we want to get all our pay each Friday/That’s the only think on which we all agree/Glad we work here part-time at the Middle/Glad that all our friends get in for free/Glad that we can give all the bands the what for/That’s the only thing on which we all agree

Billy:

Will no one buy a drink for me?Cathy? Jen? Ralph?

Will none of you drink to me?Cathy? Jen? Ralph?

FOLEY’S

Billy:

I’d only like to mention/I’m under so much tension/It wakes me up it’s safe as coffee/Vivarin—it’s not a drug/Wakes me up, it has changed me not a bit/How I hate booking/Once, I was alert/Now, I’m tense and hurt/Listen surely I’ve attracted/ notoriety/Booked for three years,/ now I’m thirty/Did it every week for just a buck and change/But if I quit/Let them sign the papers,/ do the things they ask of me/Let them talk and talk and talk/ and smear me in the press/Happy to go, happy to go by God/Happy to leave, happy to leave by God/Why should I quit/Are they going to care that I booked three years without a break?/Will they say that I was just an omnipresent fake?/There’s a thousand reasons why I should go ahead and quit/OK, I’ll quit/Just see me quit/See how I quit/Once I was alert/Now I’m tense and hurt/After all, I booked for three years/Now I’m 30/Why then am I bored and restless/I need rest and I never got it/Now I’ll interrupt/Let them lock me up/I will let them sign the papers/Tell the world I have the vapors/Take me bind me hold me lock me up/—Before I lose my mind

Chris:

There he is—drunk as a coot.

Billy:

Do you really want to take this job?

Club staff:

Billy’s nuts, we’re taking over now/Hang on, Chris, we’re gonna side with you

Billy:

Put away your pens/It is time for me to go now/I lost money, now I’m gone/Why are you so obsessed with booking?/Stick to drinking from now on

Club Staff:

Tell me Bill what the doorman makes/What is the length of an average set/Do you know what the soundman takes/Do you know how the price is set?/Do you think you will ever book/Are you planning to write a book/Do you think that McLean’s is vile?/How do you view an insane asylum/Come with us to see Doctor Pike/You’ll just love the loony house/You’ll just love seeing Doctor Pike/You will puke in the Doctor’s house/Come on Bill this is not like you/Some people say there’s a missing screw/Your support staff plans to stay/You might book again some day/Tell me Bill what the doorman makes/What is the length of an average set/Do you know what the soundman takes/Do you know how the price is set?/Come with us to see Doctor Pike/You’ll just love the loony house/You’ll just love seeing Doctor Pike/You will puke in the Doctor’s house/Now commit him, get him committed/Now commit him, get him committed

Dr. Pike:

Billy you must realize/The tests and medicines waiting you/You say that you need a break/To get a handout, well is it true?

Billy:

That’s what I said, I said I was

Eric:

There you have it Billy boy/You’re as crazy as a louse/Chris, we thank you for the info/You can go and live in Billy’s house/Now commit him, get him committed/Take him to Carolyn/Take him to Carolyn/Take him to Carolyn/Take him to Carolyn

FSAD’S DENIAL

Barmaid:

I think I read some story—I remember/It was about that man who quit the club/I recognize the name

FSAD:

I don’t know who what when where how you know me/And if you’re talking ‘bout poor Billy—/I hardly know the guy

Bouncer:

Then how come I am sure I read that story/Under your by-line too—/and everyone knew

FSAD:

I told you that I only recently just met him—

Old man:

But I read that piece—the by-line at least!

FSAD:

I hardly know him!

Layla:

FSAD don’t you know what you have done?/You’re saying Chris has won

FSAD:

I had to do it, don’t you see/‘Cause he’ll be booking me

Layla:It’s what he told us you would say/How’d he know, anyway?

CAROLYN AND BILLY

Carolyn:

Who is this former boss/Blockading up the hallway?/Who is this former boss?

Bouncer:

Billy Budd, Middle East head

Carolyn:

Oh, so this is Billy B.,/I am quite surprised to see/You are so tiny, act so whiny/We all know that you can diddle,/But do you run, help run the Middle?

Billy:

Is that what they say?

Carolyn:

That’s what they used to say/.No I do all of the bookings./Rock is in trouble here,/‘Billy Budd Middle East head’./Why does someone with your job/Dress like such a total slob/An amazing loss—this shabby boss./Since you used to book the club,/I don’t want to see you, Bub/You’re Chris’s boss! You’re Chris’s loss!

Mob:

Hey Billy yo Billy Billy Billy yoBilly hey Billy, yo and why/Hey BB, BB, please explain to me/Why your booking schedule has to die?

JOSEPH’S SONG

Joseph:

Billy I am quite dismayed to see you in this state/I have fired you twice before but this time seals your fate/We’ll book reggae, play the Grateful Dead,/Anything but Billy’s bands, they’ve put us in the red/So you are the Budd, you’re the great Billy Budd/Prove to me that you’re no dud—get the crowd to buy my suds/If they start to drink more you can manage the floor/Come on, Billy, My Bud./Billy, I just can’t believe the bands you’ve booked in here,/Let them tear the place apart and drink up all our beer./Oh, what a pity, if we lose our shirt/And I will bet reporters come to dig up all the dirt/So you are the Budd, you’re the great Billy Budd;/Prove to me that you don’t drink,/ I’ll Offer you a case of Swinkle./If you stop drinking beer then/I’ll let you book here;/Come on, Billy my Bud./I only ask things I’d ask any of the staff/What is it about you makes us all just want to laugh/Oh, I’m a waiter, when they call in sick,/I’m dying to be shown that you aren’t just another dick/So you are the Budd, you’re the great Billy Budd;/Will you dance the whole night long/If they play your favorite song/Can’t you dance any more?/Why are you such a bore?/Come on, Billy, my Bud./Yo! Don’t you take my advice?Are you some kind of Christ?Y/ou’re a joke! You sit and fidget!/You’re nothing but a midget!/Show him the door,/ he can’t work here no more./Get out now, Billy my Bud!/Get out of my club!/Get out now, Billy my Bud!

CHRIS’S NERVOUS BREAKDOWN

Chris:

My God he called me he was three-quarters drunk/He talked so goddamn long about supporting Funk/He talked for do damn long he almost turned my head/Now he’s gonna wanna come book Chucklehead/I don’t believe he knows I tried to do some good/I’d gladly let him do the booking if I could/Don’t believe…do good…let him…if I could

Nabil:

Why don’t you go and get you some coffee/I don’t understand—go get some rest/All that you said—have more coffee/The staff turned against him—that’s what you said

Michael:

What you have done will be the joy of the club scene/They’ll write you up in the Herald for this/And not only that we pay a buck and a quarter/And rent in the bargain—how can you miss?

Chris:

Bill, I know you are half dead/But I only did what you hired me to;/Bill, I’d write for The Nation/But now I’ve been saddled with the booking of this/I have been saddled with bands from the South,/I shall be stuck booking Upside-Down Cross/I have been saddled with bands from the South,/I shall be stuck booking Upside-DownUpside-Down, Upside-Down, Upside-Down Cross!

I don’t know how to know him,/I just wish that he’d ignore me;/He’s just a boy, he’s just a boy/He’s not a boss, he’s just the same/As any one of us/I wish he’d go/When I’m cold and dead he will haunt my dreams/With his petty moans and his careless schemes/I don’t know what to do/My God, I took away this pest’s post/I should have known he’d get upset/Joe, I will never know why you chose me to book/All these foul cruddy bands/I have lost my mind/I have lost my mindI/ have lost my mind/I have lost my mind/I have lost my mind/I have lost my mind/I have lost my mind/I have lost my mind/I have lost my mind

Chorus:

Good old Chris/Good old Chris

TRIAL BEFORE JOSEPH

Joseph:

So Billy B. is once again in here/And why is this—McLean’s was out of beer?

Michael:

We turn to Joe/ please go and smell his breath/Next thing we know/ he’ll be on crystal meth

Joseph:

Talk to me, Billy B./You have snuck back here/Drunk a non-alcoholic beer and been detected/Listen Billy, my friend,/Where is our schedule?/What about—December?

Billy:

I have got no bookings left to do/I’m done, done, done

Mob:

Talk to me, Billy B.

Billy:

I will call you with my bookings/If I think of one

Joseph:

Then you can book?

Billy:

It’s you that say I can/I book the best/And find that I am banned

Joseph:

What is the best?/Is it without a flaw?/Then why play here?/When they can see Don Law?

Mob:

Boot him, boot him

Joseph:

What do you mean?You’d fire Billy B.?

Mob:

We’ll do the other bookings! Boot him out!

Joseph:

He likes the songs—and people like to sing

Mob:

We’ll do the other bookings! Boot him out!

Joseph:

There is no reason—/we’re breaking even/We had a dry spell but now we’ll fill the venue/Billy’s misguided—thinks bands important/But to keep you staffers happy/Here’s his severance—

Mob:Boot him out! X 16

THE THIRTY-NINE DOLLARS

[Instrumental]

Joseph:

Where are you from Billy,What do you want Billy, Tell me…./You’ve got to be careful/You’re unemployed they tell me/Why do you not speak when I offer you a job/If you would stay quiet and only not dress like a slob/

Billy:

You don’t know nothing/To hell with you and your whole damn family too/We’ve booked through March and you can’t change it—

Joseph:

You’re a fool Billy B./What can I do now?

Mob:

Joseph, boot him out!/Nabil is angry!/ You have a duty/To run the Corner, boot him out now!/Nabil is angry/He’ll move to Boston/Even Chicago—/boot him out!

Joseph:

Don’t let me stop your great immolation/Leave if you want to, you misguided Satyr/I wash my hands of your destitution/Quit if you want to you innocent numbskull!

BILLY BUDD, SUPERSTUD

Voice of Chris:

Every time I book for you I don’t understand/How you let the bands you booked get so out of hand/You’d have managed better if you’d had them banned/If you booked today the business wouldn’t be dropping/Central Square in ’88 wasn’t used to club-hopping;/Don’t get me wrong,/ I only wanna know:/Billy Budd, Superstud,/Why’d you put on all those filthy duds?/Billy Budd, Superstud,/Would you admit your career’s a dud?/Tell me what you think about the people in charge?/Joey Incagnoli’s crowds are not quite so large/Cathy is she where it’s at? The Doughheads made out/,Could Martin move a mountain or was that just his clout?/Did you mean to quit like that are you just a clown or/Did you know this mess you left might close the place down?/Don’t get me wrong,/ I only wanna know—/Billy Budd, Superstud,/Why’d you put on all those filthy duds?/Billy Budd, Superstud,/Would you admit your career’s a dud?

THE COMMITMENT

Billy:

Dad commits me/Thinks I don’t know what I’m doing/Who is my father?/ Where is my father?/Vegetarian Platter, why have you forsaken me?/I am thirty./It is finished./Father, into your hands I permit the Commitment.

[Instrumental]

APPENDIX TWO

BOB RISKO

Hi Francis,I have a question about your friend Billy Ruane.I’ve been through all the obituaries, tributes, testimonials, and accounts I can find, and it sounds like he was incredibly energetic,charismatic, and intensely likeable personality. But it doesn’t sound like he was bipolar. Bipolar sufferers aren’t manic, and certainly not persistently manic, in any popular sense of the word. They typically experience brief periods of mania — a few weeks at most — followed by periods, often years, of crushing and debilitating depression that leaves them essentially vegetative. If they’re creative, lucid,energized, and productive, it’s only for very short periods. Mostly,they’re extremely depressed, able to participate in normal routines ona limited scale, and then only after years of drug therapy and intensive psychotherapy. (And alcohol would make it impossible to recover.)I have nothing against Billy Ruane; in fact, I wish I’d known him. But I’m an unimpeachable source on bipolar disorder, and I get wary whenever the popular imagination suggests that it makes you intensely creative and insanely energetic and fun — the life of the party, if you will. It does not. What it DOES do is make you depressed and suicidal. In fact, 1/3 of bipolars commit suicide — higher than the unipolar rate — because it is a horrible, horrible affliction. I’ve only known a few bipolars, leading carefully disciplined lives,who’ve escaped the real horrors of the disorder. The rest are never symptom-free, and many of them are just plain zombies.So I’m just asking: was he really bipolar?Thanks,Bob Risko

Francis DiMenno November 2 2010 at 11:38pm

Bob, it’s like you’ve been reading my mind. I have been mulling over the same information myself and asking myself some of the very same questions. All the more so because I am currently writing a full-blown memoir about Billy Ruane. I was even thinking of pestering a psychiatrist schoolmate who knew Billy peripherally as to whether the diagnosis holds any water at all. Because I think people tend to use the term ‘bipolar” as a catch-all term for any sort of manic or depressive behavior. And it’s not scientifically valid to simply slap such a label on people…. Short answer: Maybe. Billy was, indeed,manic. Egregiously so. But–usually–he could switch it off. I have observed this many times. He was also prone to depressive episodes. He seldom allowed people to see this, but I was one of his closest friends for quite some time, and I saw aspects of it. It is possible you could diagnose him with Borderline Personality Disorder aka Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder. Maybe even ADHD. Possibly PTSD. Or even Ganser’s Syndrome. I really don’t know. I was a public health librarian for two years, but I only know enough to know that I am not qualified to make such a diagnosis.

Francis DiMenno November 3 at 12:00am

The more I read up on it, the more I see it as BPD.

Bob Risko November 3 at 1:04am Report

Well, you knew him, and keen observation is as much a part of the scientific method as anything else.

Francis DiMenno November 3 at 1:11am

I would be leery about making any definitive pronouncements, but your comment has given me a good deal of food for thought. Perhaps, once written , and with your kind indulgence, I can share my floundering and by necessity preliminary conclusions for your appraisal.

APPENDIX THREE

BOSTON PHOENIX ARTICLE

http://thephoenix.com/boston/music/110963-billy-ruane-saying-goodbye-to-a-whirlwind/?page=4#TOPCONTENT#ixzz14GhHRdJv

GUESTBOOK ENTRIES

http://www.donovanaufierofuneralhome.com/guestbook.php?obit=182

APPENDIX FOUR

THE VIVARIN PAPERS:YOU AREN’T GETTING SLEEPY…SLEEPY….

Vivarin ad from October 1985: “Wake…UP! If you don’t graduate…we’re through!”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27ThcuP_FmM&p=3F2DF0790484B546&playnext=1&index=52

Coffee leads men to trifle away their time, scald their chops, andspend their money, all for a little base, black, thick, nasty, bitter,stinking nauseous puddle water.  ~The Women’s Petition Against Coffee,1674

This coffee falls into your stomach, and straightway there is a general commotion.  Ideas begin to move like the battalions of theGrand Army of the battlefield, and the battle takes place.  Things remembered arrive at full gallop, ensuing to the wind.  The light cavalry of comparisons deliver a magnificent deploying charge, the artillery of logic hurry up with their train and ammunition, theshafts of with start up like sharpshooters.  Similes arise, the paper is covered with ink; for the struggle commences and is concluded with torrents of black water, just as a battle with powder.  ~Honore deBalzac, “The Pleasures and Pains of Coffee”

Coffee is a beverage that puts one to sleep when not drunk.  ~Alphonse Allais

VIVARIN

Back in the drug-suffused sixties I was but a lad of tender years, and the kaleidoscopic array of substances on offer were of little interest to me, although I was quite taken with a frantic–if not in fact,frighteningly manic little broadcast ditty which went thus:Get a little lift, take Vivarin That’s V-I-V-A-R-I-NGet a little lift, take Vivarin! Not since reading Upton Sinclair’s “The Jungle,” in which Jurgis Rudkis serenaded his Lithuanian family with his maddeningly repetitive rendition of “In the Good Old Summertime,” had I been so entranced by the stupefying potential of cheap music.But the ghouls at the Vivarin ad agency weren’t quite through with me yet. Witness the following, highly sentimental 1985 scenario, which Ihave taken the liberty of dubbing, “If You Don’t Graduate, We’reThrough!”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27ThcuP_FmM&p=3F2DF0790484B546&playnext=1&index=52

For those of you without the benefit of advanced computer technology such as Youtube, I will summarize this poignant playlet .A young woman has, judging from her sweater and high-prole-cum-bargain-basement- bourgeoise feathered hairdo,haphazardly hunkered down at the local institution of higher education. Let’s assume she lives in the Jan Miner Dormitory at Palmolive Dish Liquid Community College. This busty but slightly drab midinette is apparently hell-bent on landing a spoiled and rather dimwitted young scion of the middling to lower-upper mercantile class.(I am assuming that the stolid hunk’s pappy made his bundle with some dumb-ass minor-league scam, such as selling slightly used popsicle sticks to second graders, or hawking off-brand auto parts to purblind septuagenarians, or palming diluted Penicillin off onto impoverished bohunks, or some such.) Unfortunately for the young lady, her big plans for matrimony–and a life filled with screaming brats and her future husband’s alcoholic shenanigans–threaten to be derailed by the Big Stupe’s inability to pass his final exams.This, so far, is the backstory.Into his den she strides, happy as a daft moggy with a catnip collar,when she espies Lunko fast asleep with his head on his desk, with presumably only hours to go until the big test.She then delivers the following deathless line of monologue with all the ferociousness of the power-crazed Barbara Stanwyck in “The Violent Men”: “Wake UP! If you don’t graduate, we’re THROUGH!”Thoroughly duped and cowed by this display of feminine animus, he lethargically croaks, “I’m bushed!”It is here that the sweater girl lashes into her dozey Romeo with the forceful avidity of a god-intoxicated Maenad preparing to give suck to a wolf cub. “Heah,” she crows, “Revive with Vivarin…helps wake yew UP.” And then the shameless hussy literally wraps her sinister pink coils around the half-wakened dumbbell’s hapless neck while proffering what might as well be labeled, in boldface letters, “THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT.”At which point the hearty voice of Zeus from out of the clouds booms out the information that “Government-appointed experts” have approved the stuff as safe. (Presumably this omnipotent voice is referring tot he omniscient Food and Drug Administration, which has, in fact,grudgingly allowed that the principal stimulating ingredient in coffee, tea, cocoa, aspirin, soda pop, and even ice cream is, in fact,generally recognized as safe.) Goaded by the shrieking caffeine Harpy, the young fellow, still in the throes, it seems, of having been wakened from a badly-needed restorative dream, rather groggily endorses the rather sinister pills with the dubious encomium, “Revive…with Vivarin!” Alas, the master playwrights writing circa long-ago October 1985 have tragically left us with only a fifteen-second fragment. Here’s the suspenseful part. What happens next? Some of the greatest literary minds have grappled with this conundrum, but nobody yet has emerged with a definitive answer. The dramatic question needing to be resolved is as follows: Does Diploma Boy actually marry the Vivarin whore–or do they break up three days before he gets the sheepskin?I’m guessing the former. I’m hoping the latter.

NODOZ VS. VIVARIN

NoDoz:Active Ingredients: Each caplet contains: Caffeine (200 mg)Inactive Ingredients: Benzoic Acid, Corn Starch, FD&C Blue 1,Hydroxypropyl Methylcellulose, Microcrystalline Cellulose, Mineral Oil(Paraffinum Liquidum), Polysorbate 20, Povidone, Propylene Glycol,Simethicone Emulsion, Sorbitan Monolaurate, Stearic Acid, Sucrose,Titanium DioxideDo not give to children under 12 years of age. For occasional use only. Not intended for use as a substitute for sleep. If fatigue or drowsiness persists or continues to occur, consult a doctor. The recommended dose of this product contains about as much caffeine as acup of coffee. Limit the use of caffeine-containing medications,foods, or beverages while taking this product because too much caffeine may cause nervousness, irritability, sleeplessness, and,occasionally, rapid heartbeat.Vivarin:1)Kmiller, you are correct in assuming that V is ‘just caffeine’. All info on the net confirms this.Old personal users do beg to differ. Before the late 90s. V had 160mg dextrose as active ingredient plus a ‘secret’ active ingredient the makers called ‘Stimucin’. Stimucin was advertised on the front of the box throughout all owners of the product from 1969 to the time of SmithKline Beecham. This company was purchased in late 90s (when V. enjoyed 58+% market share) and the new company made the change with no info given about the change; in fact, launched a $20,000.000 Advertising campaign for new users.Just a guess, but the ‘just caffeine’ product was substituted for the original because the original was perfect for some ADD users and cheap, without a perscription; it was too effective. Around the time ADD became better recognized, medications such as the prescribed $200.+ per bottle Provig** debuted, the “original” over the counter,V, available everywhere for under $6.00 per box for 40… disappeared with little tracable information.Good for the company. Not good for those who have found nothing as effective, prescribed or not. 2) 2d2, I love a good conspiracy theory, but I think I’m going to have to scuttle this one. (BTW, I did self-medicate with this many, many years ago!) An online check shows an application for the term Stimucin was filed 4/83; JB Williams Co (which also registered the name Vivarinin 1969, and which sold Geritol as a quick fix for fatigue and was sued by the FTC for false advertising!) conveyed rights to the name to Beecham in 3/84 (I’m guessing the online records don’t go back to when JBW registered it); and the name was registered to Beecham as a trademark in 11/84. Beecham merged with SmithKline in 1993. The trademark office description of the “goods and services” called Stimucin: Caffeine Sold Only as an Integral Component and Active Ingredient in Stimulant Tablets.So, there ya go. It’s all marketing. And thanks very much (!?!) forgiving me something to hyperfocus on at the expense of everything else I had to do today. ;D3) (Who’s we?) It’s caffeine and always was – and this old personal user was one who was there and knows. I don’t think we’re saying that caffeine’s not effective to some degree in helping address ADD issues of mental energy and focus. What I am saying, though, is that there was never any additional active ingredient or “secret” formula to Vivarin, although the company that trademarked “Stimucin” clearly wanted people to think so. Of course we all know diagnosed and undiagnosed ADDers who self-medicate with Starbucks. It makes some sense: caffeine blocks adenosine reception in the brain (binding of adenosine causes drowsiness) so neuron activity is not slowed down and you thus feel more alert. The increased neural activity sets off production of adrenaline, which is what gives you a boost. Caffeine also increases dopamine levels in the same way that amphetamines do (but milder) to make you feel good.http://www.addforums.com/forums/showthread.php?t=13029

Vivarin:Active Ingredients (in each Tablet): Caffeine (200 mg). InactiveIngredients: Carnauba Wax, Colloidal Silicon Dioxide, D&C Yellow 10,Aluminum Lake, Dextrose, FD&C Yellow 6 Aluminum Lake, Hypromellose,Magnesium Stearate, Microcrystalline Cellulose, Polyethylene Glycol,Polysorbate 80, Starch, Titanium Dioxide.Nausea, stomach upset, insomnia, restlessness, nervousness, tremor,headache, lightheadedness may occur. Large amounts of caffeine may aggravate ulcers, cause frequent urination, flushing, muscle twitch or irritability. If any of these effects continue or become bothersome,inform your doctor. Notify your doctor if you experience: dizziness,depression, rapid breathing, chest pain, confusion, fatigue. Abrupt stopping of caffeine intake after several weeks of regular daily use may cause withdrawal symptoms such as headache, anxiety or muscle tension within 12 to 18 hours. If you notice other effects not listed above, contact your doctor or pharmacist.

THE INFORMATION #1026 JANUARY 4, 2019

​​​​THE INFORMATION #1026
JANUARY 4, 2019
Copyright 2019 FRANCIS DIMENNO
dimenno@gmail.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

The first breath of adultery is the freest; after it, constraints aping marriage develop. ​–​John Updike


WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TWELVE: PART FORTY-THREE: THE EASTERN GATE OF PARADISE

The first Christmas young Billy Batchelder Tallent spent away from his family was during his first form year at Stropmuth Manor. A week earlier, his family sent him a telegram telling him that he might be better off staying “up North” for the holiday, since things at home were still “unsettled.”

To his surprise, after recovering from the disappointment, Billy found that he didn’t miss Christmastime at the old homestead. Not at all. 

He thought about the Yuletide doin’s last year at that time.

He didn’t miss the darkies hammering away at the banjo, an instrument which hurt his sensitive ears because it was impossible to keep in tune.

He didn’t miss having to kiss his bucktoothed girl cousins under the mistletoe, nor having to endure their caterwauling attempts to play the piano.

He didn’t miss his drunken Uncles trying to chaff him because he was still an apple-cheeked boy-child and not a full-grown man.

He didn’t miss his fat and slovenly Aunties pinching his cheeks between their clawlike talons and remarking that he was a good boy.

He didn’t miss the presents, which, ever since he was nine, consisted mainly of scratchy and uncomfortable clothing, and leather shoes which always pinched his left or his right foot. 

He didn’t miss hearing his father rage at his mother for having spent too much money that month.

He didn’t miss hearing his mother sneering at his father because he wasn’t a good provider.

And hearing his father calling his mother a damned trollop and slamming the door and going to the stable and mounting his horse and riding off to the next town, Chump Junction, to drink raw whiskey in a log shanty with fellow reprobates and bemoan his fate. He didn’t miss that.

He didn’t miss having to eat at a table with his odious younger cousins, many of whom were mere idiots, or, even worse, malevolent, uncivilized savages. 

He didn’t miss the Tallents. The Tallents were mostly corn-fed dolts.

He didn’t miss the Batchelders, either.

The Batchelder boys, on his Mother’s side, tended more toward savagery. Their folks were allegedly “fine stock,” who lived in town and kept many servants. This meant, mostly, that the Batchelder boys were spoiled rotten, and accustomed to having their own way. All except his sanctimonious Cousin Leo. 

Leo Beecher Batchelder always dressed in a sombre black jacket and derby hat and a starched white shirt, and maintained a prim and pious demeanor around adults. The ladyfolk spoke approvingly of him someday being a preacher. The menfolk held their tongues. They were leery at his reputation of being a “goody-good.” 

However, among his younger cousins Cousin Leo revealed his true self–an ornery, unscrupulous bully with such a filthy mouth that he even shocked young Billy, who fancied himself a practiced aficionado of low expressions. 

Cousin Leo, alone with Billy’s Father in the dining room: “Sir, I was wondering if perhaps, with your kind permission, Sir, prior to the magnificent feast you have laid out, and, not meaning in the slightest to usurp your role as head of the household, if, Sir, I could perhaps offer a little prayer of grace to bless the assembled souls joined here today to celebrate the birth of our Lord.”

Billy’s father, who was already half drunk, even though it was only two in the afternoon, thought this was a splendid idea, since he didn’t want to be put to the trouble of saying grace, and he clasped the young prodigy around the shoulders with a beefy arm and gave out with a companionable grin and a blast of whiskey breath.

He then offered young Leo a sip of mulled wine. Cousin Leo declined. As the ladies began flocking into the dining room, Cousin Leo then recited an insipid “poem” which was making the rounds among the Teetotal set:

​​I’m a little Temperance boy, 
12 years old! 
And I love Temperance, 
Better than gold! 
Every little boy like me, 
The Temperance Pledge should sign, 
For God loves little boys who don’t love wine!  


But Cousin Leo became a very different person when he cornered young Billy in the pantry. 

“Christ, Tallent, what a dump your Paw has here. Jesus H. Fuck–when are you chawbacons gwine to get some indoor plumbing? We got hot water and everything. But I see you’re still dropping your load in a stinking outhouse. Them niggers of your paw’s are so lazy they oughta be lashed until they drop. Say, Tallent, I hear yore Pappy sired a nigger boy with a tawny wench. I hear he’s just about your age, too. I hear he’s sharecroppin’ for the Mullins over t’ Chump Junction. I also heard a big black Jigaboo tried to kiss your sister, and they had t’ lynch him. Is any of this true?” 

Billy got so angry at hearing such slurs that, even though he was only ten years old, he was about to clobber Cousin Leo, but Cousin Leo backed up and said, “Naow, don’t get hot, there, Master William. I didn’t say I believed it. It’s just that I hear lots of folks talking. I’m wonderin’ if you heard.”

“Now you listen to me,” said Billy Batchelder Tallent to his Cousin Leo, as he pulled out an enormous knife and held it under his chin. “You see this Arkansaw toothpick? I use it to castrate hogs. And it would surely do a job of work on you. And it will. If you ever so much as breathe a word about my family. Ever again.”

And so it was that as Billy Batchelder Tallent shivered in his cot at Stropmuth Manor on Christmas morning, he decided that he didn’t miss the home folk at all. No, the Monks had the right idea, all right. Who needs a family? All they’re good for is to drag you down. A man ought to be free, and that was that.

His housemaster was fond of reading at morning House Mass the following Bible verses:

​​And it came to pass after these things, that his master’s wife cast her eyes upon Joseph; and she said, Lie with me. But he refused, and said unto his master’s wife, Behold, my master wotteth not what is with me in the house, and he hath committed all that he hath to my hand; There is none greater in this house than I; neither hath he kept back any thing from me but thee, because thou art his wife: how then can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God? And it came to pass, as she spake to Joseph day by day, that he hearkened not unto her, to lie by her, or to be with her. And it came to pass about this time, that Joseph went into the house to do his business; and there was none of the men of the house there within. And she caught him by his garment, saying, Lie with me: and he left his garment in her hand, and fled, and got him out.

His housemaster added, in an editorial comment, that he wholeheartedly approved of such behavior. He said it was a passage which every young man should seriously ponder.

And Billy Batchelder Tallent did, indeed, ponder it.
​But what if he were weak? What if ​he did find himself​, though ill luck,​ in the unfortunate position of having to support a family​?​. Then he ought, at the very least, to have lots of money so that niggers could do all the hard work, with a wife to oversee ’em, while he and his like-minded cronies sat around and took a companionable snort or two and chewed the fat.

​A life of comfort and ease! ​Without women! That was the life for him!

1* SALUTATION​

SMOKEY ROBINSON AND THE MIRACLESLIVE AT THE APOLLO THEATRE 1963

WAY OVER THERE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KoDAp4SO1q4&feature=share​

2*REFERENCE​

THE CLIMATE COUNCIL

TEMPERATURE ANOMALIES BY COUNTRY1880-2017

https://www.facebook.com/climatereality/videos/national-temperature-anomalies-1880-2017/934509326737487/​

3*HUMOR​

I recently bought some cough drops at the bargain store. An off-brand: Fisherman’s Most Bitter Enemy.​​​

Brought to you by the makers of Fisherman’s Delicious Codeine Cough Syrup.
Also try: Fisherman’s ​Brand ​New Friend Who Lives at The YMCA.    
And: Fisherman’s Hook-For-A-Hand Stump Ointment…With Lanolin!

There were many other choices:

Greenpeace Friend…now in three dolphin-free flavors​!​
Fisherman’s Estranged Fiancee Who Knows All His Little Secrets And Will Tell Everyone
Fisherman’s Special Friend The Downy-Cheeked Cabin Boy Who Smells Good. 
Fisherman’s Good Friend Bluto Who Knows How To Rig A Hammock to Sleep Two. 
Fisherman’s Monomaniacal Captain Who Vows Revenge on an Albino Whale and Gets Everyone Killed.
Fisherman’s Aimless and Peripatetic Existence Now That East Coast Codfish Quotas Have Decreased by 95 Percent.
Fisherman’s Trust Fund That Nobody Knows About Because He Wants To Prove Himself As A Man By Facing The Terrors Of The Briny Deep.  
Fisherman’s Enigmatic Comrade Who Was Present at The Bay of Pigs And Who Knows Who Killed Kennedy But Has Been Sworn To Secrecy.
FISHERMAN’S CONSTANT COMPANION: ONE DOSE AND YOU’LL BE “HOOKED”.  


4*NOVELTY
​129 WAYS TO GET A HUSBAND (1958)​​

https://www.boredpanda.com/how-to-get-men-1950s-dating-article-magazine-mccalls/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=organic

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST​

CHINA’S NEW SOCIAL CREDIT SYSTEM​

My High School roommate William Hagan thought of this…back in 1974!​

https://www.facebook.com/f2xtrem/videos/884399088405660/
https://www.businessinsider.com/china-social-credit-system-punishments-and-rewards-explained-2018-4​​​
6* DAILY UTILITY​

THE STATE OF HATE

https://www.lifeafterhate.org/blog/2018/12/19/5-numbers-that-show-the-real-state-of-hate-today?fbclid=IwAR3rxob6nkjg4OL62XrxK2EuOk-CHo9BIJixSc89cQbEIDdR4GlyouymDko​

7*CARTOON​

SANTA CLAUS AND THE ICE CREAM BUNNY

Roberta Davies​:​ We’ve been discussing bad Christmas movies in another place, and I wrote this about “Santa and the Ice Cream Bunny”:

It was made on a budget of nothing for a low-rent Florida amusement park called Pirates World, and was shown as an attraction there. Essentially, Santa is stuck on the beach in Florida, where it’s too hot for him to move his sleigh. Nobody can help until the Ice Cream Bunny — which I assume is the park mascot — comes riding up on his fire engine. That’s basically the whole plot.

The bits about Santa and the Bunny are used as a framing device to present another children’s film — either “Jack and the Beanstalk” or “Thumbelina”, although it could theoretically be anything — cut into the middle of it, or sometimes presented after the Santa plot. The inserted fairy-tale film is longer than the Santa story.  https://www.facebook.com/f2xtrem/videos/884399088405660/​

8*PRESCRIPTION​

PERIODIC TABLE OF TYPEFACES​

https://scontent.fzty2-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/10857945_10154995535540501_6746203967745705106_n.jpg?_nc_cat=102&_nc_ht=scontent.fzty2-1.fna&oh=0aec67216a923db92a32a5ad9f4c9e3c&oe=5CD6BC14​


9* RUMOR PATROL
DRUGS AS WEAPONS AGAINST US
http://www.amazon.com/Drugs-Weapons-Against-Murderous-Targeting/dp/1937584925

The upshot of it is that oligarchs, working with politicians, hoodlum cartels, and intelligence agencies, have been dosing proles and entertainers since the opium wars, and it’s still going on.

Lots of interesting nuggets. E.g.: The dentist who dosed Lennon with LSD worked for MI6.

Et cetera.

It draws heavily on two works: Acid Dreams, and Weird Scenes Inside the Canyon.
http://www.amazon.com/Acid-Dreams-Complete-History-Sixties/dp/0802130623
http://www.amazon.com/Weird-Scenes-Inside-Canyon-Laurel/dp/1909394122/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1545656742&sr=8-1&keywords=weird+scenes+inside+the+canyon

Just about everybody in the Laurel Canyon Scene of the 60s and 70s were connected to the military in one way or another. And MK-Ultra is fact, not fiction.
https://youtu.be/FNCKPMh3tM8

SEE:
https://youtu.be/0MamdDXe5fs

ALSO SEE:
https://youtu.be/i9i93YxJsco
https://youtu.be/nKpdc0IBlgM

SEE ALSO:
Some interesting stories about the Charlatans, née the Mainliners (!).
flashbak.com/charlatans-hippies-guns-lsd-san-francisco-rock-band-wild-sixties-387027/

10*LAGNIAPPE​THE KELLY FAMILY​
​AIN’T GONNA PEE-PEE MY BED TONIGHThttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6m3ksi1HWY


SEE ALSO:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Kelly_Family

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

HOW GOOGLE TRACKS YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION

https://medium.com/s/story/the-complete-unauthorized-checklist-of-how-google-tracks-you-3c3abc10781d?fbclid=IwAR1i6uZSYWOwIrFTUa0mni-zCkfuWv2Ys9TsxNHmpTSjFm4jTHe1l47eVk8​

12* CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE

​THE SUMMIT OF ORIGINAL SANTAS

https://www.facebook.com/Avantgardens.org/photos/a.573121939368238/1626210537392701/?type=1&theater​

THE INFORMATION #1025 DECEMBER 28, 2018

THE INFORMATION #1025
DECEMBER 28, 2018
Copyright 2018 FRANCIS DIMENNO
dimenno@gmail.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

At fifteen life had taught me undeniably that surrender, in its place,was as honorable as resistance, especially if one had no choice.–Maya Angelou

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER TWELVE: PART FORTY-TWO: THE EASTERN GATE OF PARADISE

In his first form year, which corresponded to the public school
seventh grade, Billy Batchelder Tallent told me that he was kept so
busy memorizing twenty Latin words and twenty Greek words and twenty German words and twenty English vocabulary words every night for six days a week that he scarcely had time to sleep, or indulge in any but the briefest ruminations about what had been done to him by the Keysars. Any spare time that was accorded him was spent either in praying or in singing psalms or in indulging in physical exercise. In
the autumn, the boys played rugby; in the winter they were encouraged
to ice skate, and in the spring they played baseball, a newly popular
sport. It seemed rather odd to Billy that many of the Monks who
coached the games also participated in them with the boys. Upon mature reflection, he realized that some of these men were in their early twenties, newly graduated from Seminary, and were still in their
youthful prime, and so it was small wonder that they too wanted to
take a hand in joining in the recreation. Like all the boys, Billy
knew for a fact that that the Monks shaved their heads, took cold
showers, woke at 4am, observed a rule of silence in the monastery, ate saltpeter with their meals, and spent a good deal of their time in contemplative prayer, but he didn’t know very much about the inner lives of the monks other than those salient facts. When he first arrived at Stropmuth Manor, he thought that many if not all of them were most
holy men indeed. But it wasn’t long before he was disabused of that
childish notion.

The other boys were the first to point out the flaws and shortcomings
of the monks who held them prisoner at their school. One sere and
rather grim iron-haired monk who was the Master of one of the
dormitories (called “Houses”) was known for liking a drink or two or
maybe more, and for spending Friday nights in a drunken stupor from which he was on no account ever to be disturbed. Billy made the mistake of rousing him early one Saturday morning to ask him an inconsequential question, and was surprised when the elderly priest roared in irritation at being awakened at 7am on a Saturday.

Another one of the monks, a rotund and jolly fellow, spoke in a highly
affected voice, was always correcting the boys’ diction, coached the
boys in the annual production of school plays, and was jeered at among
the older boys for being “minty”. Billy had no idea what that meant.
But he took care to never be alone in the same room with the man. Who
found, early on, a fatal flaw in Billy’s acting ability. “You can sell
a part, Tallent–but you can never forget who you are when you’re on
the stage. You’re always Billy Tallent–you never play the part. I’m
afraid you’re rather hopeless as any kind of actor. Maybe you should
be in charge of the properties this semester.”

And yet another of the monks was, to all outward appearances, rather
insane. A stooped and white-haired old fellow who resembled most a
sort of superanimated leprechaun, he was in constant motion, and,
according to the other boys, was engaged from sunup to sundown in
constantly solving abstruse mathematical problems. When he spoke, it
was with the far-distant voice of someone who did not–quite–occupy
the same plane of existence as ordinary people. He told Billy, upon
meeting him, that he would certainly excel in algebra and such minor
studies, but that the mysteries of the calculus were not for one such
as him, and perhaps it was just as well, because every genius has a
touch of madness and Billy would be just as happy and, perhaps, far
happier, if he didn’t strain his mind and end up landing on the
farther shores of mental abstraction. Billy had no idea what he was
talking about, but, again, upon mature reflection, decided that the
monk was warning him not to end up like him, which was advice that
Billy was glad he had followed, howsoever inadvertantly.

It was in the second half of his first form year that Billy was
assigned a new English teacher, Brother Damianos. He was a short, dark man, possibly of black Irish descent, who had an inconspicuous but noticeable hunch to his back, and it was clear to Billy from the
outset that the little man had little or no use for him. “A charity case, that’s all,” is what he overheard Brother Damianos saying to Brother Martin. Billy wondered what that meant. Surely his father paid the school well enough to teach and board him? When he had a moment to think about it, Billy realized that what Brother Damianos was referring to was his precipitate departure from Hickory Hollow. And the reasons for it. And he grew bitter against Brother Damianos. And the feeling was reciprocated.

In his second form year at Stropmuth Manor, young Billy Batchelder
Tallent was no longer plagued by the unwanted attentions of O’Goyne,
who had finally graduated, but he had to endure the hellish English
poetry class taught by Brother Damianos. Who, for all his airs of
being an aristocrat and child prodigy who graduated from Ivy at age
nineteen, was a terrible teacher of poetry. Simply put, the man had no
rhythm. He was incapable of inculcating anybody with a love for verse,
because one got the strong impression that he didn’t care for it very
much himself. Boys can always tell when a teacher lacks enthusiasm for his subject, and will respond accordingly. What Damianos liked to talk about instead was politics. Specifically, that form of politics in
which the United States was portrayed in the best possible light, and Great Britain in a far less favorable fashion.

In fact. Brother Damianos was not far from being a jingoist.

1* SALUTATION
HIGH COIN
THE WEST COAST EXPERIMENTAL ART BAND
https://youtu.be/MLc_T-JQQ4I

ALSO SEE:
HARPER’S BIZARRE
JESSIE
https://youtu.be/VBNwn_xALZs

HARPER’S BIZARRE
VIRGINIA CITY
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=urz4Fq64SZQ

2*REFERENCE
HAPPY HOLIDAYS
Just so everyone knows, I have a DRUIDIC TREE in my living room (not
a holiday tree), my kids are getting SECULAR HUMANIST PRESENTS (not holiday gifts) and we will eat SCANDANAVIAN PAGAN FESTIVAL DINNER (not a holiday meal), and I will attend a PAGAN SATURNALIA (not a holiday party). I will also very cheerfully wish you a MERRY FEAST OF THE SON OF ISIS! (not happy holidays). By the way, I have no prejudices I am willing to admit regarding weird and repugnant traditions celebrated by people who are unfortunate enough to celebrate cultural conventions different from my own. So if you want to have a Happy Hanukkah, by all means do so. I very grudgingly respect that. If you want to have a Blessed Kwanzaa, I also extremely grudgingly respect that. But as for me, I want to have a Merry Celebration of my FEAR OF THE WINTER SOLSTICE, so
I ask YOU to respect that! Repost if you agree. If you cannot find it
in your heart to agree, then give my regards to Pope Julius I.

3*HUMOR
THE GINGERBREAD MAN
The gingerbread man is a pain in the ass. I don’t want to catch him–I
just want to crush him.

ALSO SEE:
ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND THE GINGERBREAD MEN
 Abe–gimme a man!

…the debate soon turned ugly, with Douglas personally attacking
Lincoln, suggesting that if Lincoln were elected to the Senate, he
would pit the states against each other over the question of slavery.
In an attempt to change the tone of the debate, Lincoln responded with
a childhood story. When he was growing up in Indiana, his mother would occasionally be able to get her hands on ginger and sorghum to make gingerbread – special treats given the family’s relative poverty. One day, his mother made some gingerbread, and out of the batch she had made young Abe three gingerbread men. He took them outside to eat them under the shade of a hickory tree.

As he was sitting there, the young boy of an even poorer neighboring
family came along and said “Abe, gimme a man.” Abe gave him one of his gingerbread men, and the boy devoured it in two bites while Abe was still biting the legs off of his first. “Abe,” the boy said, “Gimme
that other’n.” Lincoln wanted the other for himself, but he gave it to
him and the boy devoured it just as before. “You seem to like
gingerbread men,” Lincoln observed. “Abe,” he replied, “I don’t s’pose
anybody on earth likes gingerbread better’n I do – and gets less’n I
do…”

Turning to Douglas in the midst of the debate, Lincoln said he
couldn’t understand how he had so completely misunderstood his
positions, and noted that he had been blindsided by Douglas’s
flattery. Recalling the debate, Lincoln noted “I was not very
accustomed to flattery and it came the sweeter to me. I was rather
like the Hoosier, with the gingerbread, when he said he reckoned he
loved it better than any other man, and got less of it.”
www.americantable.org/2013/01/recipe-abraham-lincoln-and-his-gingerbread-men-1847/

4*NOVELTY
WILLIAM BURROUGHS AND OCCULT TECHNIQUE
ultraculture.org/blog/2017/04/11/william-s-burroughs-occult-technique/

5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST
HITLER
Say what you will about Hitler, but at least he made an honest woman
out of Eva Braun.

ALSO SEE:
A GAHAN WILSON XMAS
https://i.imgur.com/etd0asL.jpg

SEE:
imgur.com/gallery/V1Be5
www.hillmanweb.com/xmas/comics/11.html
www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-1-ab&q=gahan+wilson+christmas

6* DAILY UTILITY
RUSSIAN DISINFORMATION
www.nytimes.com/2018/12/17/us/russian-social-media-posts.html

ALSO SEE:
www.npr.org/2018/11/15/668209008/inside-the-russian-disinformation-playbook-exploit-tension-sow-chaos

ALSO SEE:
HOLLYWOOD VS. END POVERTY IN CALIFORNIA
https://youtu.be/tPQfLqnsLEg

7*CARTOON
JERRY LEWIS
Jerry Lewis wasn’t funny. At all. You examined him with the same
clinical interest as a disease.

Jerry Lewis was a relic of a savage past when we used to publicly laugh at freaks, spastics, and crippled animals.

As a snarling, vicious, narcissistic talk show host in Scorsese’s The
King of Comedy, however, he was tops.

Jessie TeWinkel
8/21/2017 4:52 PM EDT
I worked for the Muscular Dystrophy office in Irvington, NJ one year –
Jerry’s hometown, as people claimed with pride though he was actually
born in Newark. He worked as a teen in the drugstore around the corner from me. The entire MD staff quaked with fear when they were notified Jerry was coming through town. All work stopped while everyone ran around doing Jerry’s errands and finding goodies for him, only to suffer his temper tantrums. When he wanted to play golf, the staff had to notify a golf course to clear everyone off the links and close to the public while Jerry played alone. The most memorable incident was the time the town arranged for a homegrown episode of “This Is Your Life” for Jerry. Out on stage came his old teachers, his coach, his
neighbors – and he professed not to remember any of them. I was never
there in the office when Jerry was present, but I was glad of that.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/the-two-sides-of-jerry-lewis/2017/08/20/b7cc2938-85dd-11e7-a94f-3139abce39f5_story.html?noredirect=on&utm_term=.cc1ceb3d852d

8*PRESCRIPTION
EMMETT GROGAN AND RINGOLEVIO
Did Emmett Grogan rape [Abbie Hoffman’s] wife???

Background – he does what he does, free, and anonymously. He does not
seek credit. He becomes an underground legend. Other people use his
name and no-one knows who the real Emmett Grogan is. But people
respect his ideas and the fact that he carries out his ideas
privately, day after day, on behalf of those less fortunate.

He meets up with revolutionary activists. One day, he meets with one
activist from the race war, a guy who asks him about his ideas. Emmett
speaks too freely and gives away his papers with ideas on them.

Then the guy uses his ideas as his own and goes on record with them.
Emmett goes to his house to talk about it; the guy is not there; his
wife is. The two men talk on the phone and the man turns Emmett’s
phrase on him – ‘Its free because its yours.’ Emmett asks if
everything in his place is his to take. The guy says ‘Take it all, its
free man.’

Quote – Emmett hung up and walked to the front room where Abbott
Hoffman’s wife, Anita, was sitting on a mattress on the floor watching
TV. Blah blah blah. Emmett got himself a can from the refrigerator and
watched the movie and talked with Anita for a while, before he took
what he had to take, to show Abbott Hoffman how something ‘free’ could be stolen, and what it felt like to have it taken.

www.urban75.net/forums/threads/emmett-grogans-ringolevio.193233/

9* RUMOR PATROL
KEITH RICHARDS STOPS DRINKING…SO MUCH

www.mprnews.org/story/2018/12/18/rolling-stones-guitarist-keith-richards-turns-75

www.msn.com/en-gb/entertainment/music/sex-drugs-and-rocknroll-as-keith-richards-turns-75-we-celebrate-with-some-of-his-rarer-pictures/ss-BBR7tzo?li=BBoPJKU

www.usatoday.com/story/life/people/2018/12/18/look-keith-richards-quirky-quotes-over-years/2337443002/

pagesix.com/2018/12/13/keith-richards-finally-pulled-the-plug-on-his-drinking/

www.contactmusic.com/keith-richards/news/keith-richards-giving-up-drinking_6262451

10*LAGNIAPPE
CURTIS MAYFIELD
LITTLE CHILD, RUNNING WILD
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HJkjVfOcIxs

ALSO SEE:
MICHAEL JACKSON SCREAMS
If I were caught molesting children, I suppose I would want to scream too. The reason he thinks he didn’t do anything is that his “alter”
actually did it. Fed wine to kids. Hung babies outside of windows.
Maintained a pedophile palace. That’s why he’s so “confused.”
https://youtu.be/0P4A1K4lXDo
SEE:
Brainwashing through Deprivation of Basic Needs:
monarchprogramming.wordpress.com/category/alters-and-triggers/

11*DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA
 THE TYPICAL ONLINE FLAME WAR

Repetition of received wisdom.
But…
Catch phrase from shitty sitcom.
And yet…
Why are you fat-shaming me?
I…
I suppose now that the big tragedy has actually happened you are finally happy.
That’s not…
Why bring religion into it?
But I…
No, you’re the fascist, my friend.
That isn’t…
I think it is you who are the one who is crazy. Get help.
You…
Who put the firecracker up your ass, fatso?
Now that’s just…
I can see you’re getting very worked up. Take a smoke break, crackhead.
Why don’t you…
You are a lousy excuse for a human being.
Coming from you…
Why don’t you go back to biting the heads off of chickens for a bottle
of cheap wine?
There’s…
If I ever meet you in person I’ll give you a punch in the snoot.
Well, we’ll…
Someday your antics won’t seem so cute, buster. Better shape up before
it’s too late.
And as for you…
I can’t believe that a grown-ass man like you still argues like a sullen child.
You aren’t…
If only your mother had laid off the sauce when she was pregnant with
you. Then we wouldn’t be having this argument, because you’d be smart
and funny, instead of tragic and subnormal.
Why can’t you…
There’s no persuading a headstrong fool. Goodbye, Sir.
Yeah, well…

SHUT UP! SHUT UP! It is a WORLDWIDE OPEN SECRET that you are an agent
of the MASTER RACE FRANKENSTEIN RADIO CONTROLS!!

12* CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE
DEEP PURPLE MADE IN JAPAN
Saying Made In Japan is Deep Purple’s best album is a lot like calling
someone the cleanest whore at the Mustang Ranch.