Hasanlu Tepe is an archaeological site in Azarbaijan Province of northwestern Iran.
These two skeletons were found in a pit with no identifying marks or artifacts – only a stone slab beneath the head of the one on the left. What story could these two have told?
“L’homme auquel il avait appartenu était donc venu là, et il y était mort. Quand on voulut le détacher du squelette qu’il embrassait, il tomba en poussière.”
-Victor Hugo, Notre Dame de Paris
(Holloway’s monologue leaves off the last 3 verses, but it’s lovely to listen to!)
YORKSHIRE PUDDEN
by
Weston and Lee
Hi waitress, excuse me a minute, now listen,
I’m not finding fault, but here, Miss,
The ‘taters look gradely… the beef is a’reet,
But what kind of pudden is this?
It’s what?…
Yorkshire pudden!, now coom, coom, coom, coom,
It’s what? Yorkshire pudden d’ye say!
It’s pudden, I’ll grant you… it’s some sort of pudden,
But not Yorkshire pudden… nay nay!
The real Yorkshire pudden’s a dream in batter,
To make one’s an art, not a trade,
Now listen to me, for I’m going to tell thee,
How t’ first Yorkshire pudden wor made.
A young angel on furlough from heaven,
Came flying above Ilkley Moor,
And this angel, poor thing, got cramp in her wing,
And coom down at owd woman’s door.
The owd woman smiled and said, ‘Ee, it’s an angel,
Well I am surprised to see thee,
I’ve not seen an angel before… but thou ‘rt welcome,
I’ll make thee a nice cup o’ tea.’
The angel said, ‘Ee, thank you kindly, I will’,
Well, she had two or three cups of tea,
Three or four Sally Lunns, and a couple of buns…
Angels eat very lightly you see.
The owd woman looking at clock said, ‘By Gum!
He’s due home from mill is my Dan,
You get on wi’ ye tea, but you must excuse me,
I must make pudden now for t’ owd man.
Then the angel jumped up and said, ‘Gimme the bowl…
Flour and watter and eggs, salt an’ all,
And I’ll show thee how we make puddens in Heaven,
For Peter and Thomas and Paul’.
So t’ owd woman gave her the things, and the angel,
Just pushed back her wings and said. ‘Hush’
Then she tenderly tickled the mixture wi’ t’ spoon,
Like an artist would paint with his brush.
Aye, she mixed up that pudden with Heavenly magic,
She played with her spoon on that dough,
Just like Paderewski would play the piano.
Or Kreisler now deceased would twiddle his bow.
And then it wor done and she put it in t’ oven
She said t’ owd woman, ‘Goodbye’,
Then she flew away leaving the first Yorkshire pudden,
That ever was made… and that’s why…
It melts in the mouth, like the snow in the sunshine,
As light as a maiden’s first kiss,
As soft as the fluff on the breast of a dove…
Not elephant’s leather, like this.
It’s real Yorkshire pudden that makes Yorkshire lassies,
So buxum and broad in the hips,
It’s real Yorkshire pudden that makes Yorkshire cricketers,
Win County championships.
It’s real Yorkshire pudden that gives me my dreams,
Of a real Paradise up above,
Where at the last trump, I’ll queue up for a lump,
Of the real Yorkshire pudden I love.
And there on a cloud… far away from the crowd,
In a real Paradise, not a dud ‘un,
I’ll do nowt for ever… and ever and ever,
But gollup up real Yorkshire pudden.
And all this because the goodwoman of the house served me divine Yorkshire puddings for breakfast…
While this looks photoshopped, it’s an actual phenomenon, a fire swirl caused by a heat-generated vortex.
March 11, 2003 – a Salt Lake City strip mall goes up in flames due to faulty attic wiring above a shoe repair shop.
The view from my office, Cathedral of the Madeline in the center (it wasn’t close to the fire)
Employees and bystanders form a brigade to rescue clothing from a dry cleaner’s before it goes up. Felt-Buchhorn, a long-time landmark in Salt Lake, fell victim to the recent recession.
Oh, the irony.
Article here.
The Old Wolf has spoken.
This recreation depicts a dental office as it might have appeared in the late 1800’s. Pioneer Village at Lagoon Amusement Park in Farmington is a “living museum,” a tribute to the pioneers who carved a living out of the desert after arriving in 1847. In addition to the 42 19th-century stores and offices, each appropriately furnished, the village contains a railroad museum and one of the finest small arms collections in the nation.
This has been around the internet for a long time, but as far as I can determine, it was originally written by authors at the Onion.
WORLD NEWS:
CLINTON DEPLOYS VOWELS TO BOSNIA
Cities of Sjlbvdnzv, Grzny to Be First Recipients
Before an emergency joint session of Congress yesterday, President Clinton announced US plans to deploy over 75,000 vowels to the war‑torn region of Bosnia. The deployment, the largest of its kind in American history, will provide the region with the critically needed letters A,E,I,O and U, and is hoped to render countless Bosnian names more pronounceable.
“For six years, we have stood by while names like Ygrjvslhv and Tzlynhr and Glrm have been horribly butchered by millions around the world,” Clinton said. “Today, the United States must finally stand up and say ‘Enough.’ It is time the people of Bosnia finally had some vowels in their incomprehensible words. The US is proud to lead the crusade in this noble endeavor.”
The deployment, dubbed Operation Vowel Storm by the State Department, is set for early next week, with the Adriatic port cities of Sjlbvdnzv and Grzny slated to be the first recipients. Two C‑130 transport planes, each carrying over 500 24‑count boxes of “E’s,” will fly from Andrews Air Force Base across the Atlantic and airdrop the letters over the cities.
Citizens of Grzny and Sjlbvdnzv eagerly await the arrival of the vowels. “Bože moj, I do not think we can last another day,” Trszg Grzdnjkln, 44, said. “I have six children and none of them has a name that is understandable to me or to anyone else. Mr. Clinton, please send my poor, wretched family just one ‘E.’ Please.”
Said Sjlbvdnzv resident Grg Hmphrs, 67: “With just a few key letters, I could be George Humphries. This is my dream.”
The airdrop represents the largest deployment of any letter to a foreign country since 1984. During the summer of that year, the US shipped 92,000 consonants to Ethiopia, providing cities like Ouaouoaua, Eaoiiuae, and Aao with vital, life‑giving supplies of L’s, S’s and T’s. The consonant‑relief effort failed, however, when vast quantities of the letters were intercepted and hoarded by violent, gun‑toting warlords.
For what it’s worth, “rhythm” and “syzygy” are the longest English words with no vowels if you don’t count archaic forms like symphysy or names like Twyndyllyngs. Slavic languages or which use syllabic consonants can actually form sentences like “Strč prst skrz krk” (Czech for “stick a finger through your neck”).
Th Ld Wlf hs Spkn.
No, that’s not Chinese – it’s English. It’s a quote from Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I have a dream” speech, beautifully calligraphed by Yongsheng Zhao.
Rotate the text to the left (or bend your neck to the right) and read “I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.”
The Old Wolf has spoken.
If you’ve visited my Banquet from Hell, you may have seen the entry about the Icelandic delicacy(?) hákarl, or fermented shark. Every now and then I get a strange idea in my head for a cartoon, and thought I can’t draw worth a cow pie, I have to get it on paper to quiet it down. Here’s one such misfortune (click it for the full-size penance).
The Old Wolf has drawn badly.
If you’re old enough and ever attended the Golden Horseshoe Revue at Disneyland, you may have been fortunate enough to get one of these boxes of balloons from the incomparable Wally Boag. Younger generations never knew him, although they might spot him as a character actor in some of Disney’s earlier comedies such as “The Absent Minded Professor” or “The Love Bug”, or knew his voice as “Jose” the parrot at the Enchanted Tiki Room. But Wally had a phenomenal career, and left an indelible mark on the essence of the Disney empire for decades. Wally passed away just over a year ago on June 3, 2011, and the world is poorer as a result.
My father was an actor, and had a longstanding relationship with the Boags through performance channels. As a result, I knew them since I was knee-high to a… well, my wife doesn’t like those things so I’ll say “to a gecko.” And my life was infinitely richer as a result. Wally was a great entertainer, a very funny man, and a dear friend.
Wally’s balloon work was one of his trademarks, and he always had a youngster up on stage to help him with his routine. I took this in the early 70’s during one of my visits there.
Wally as Pecos Bill in the foreground, Betty Taylor as Sluefoot Sue in the background, flanked by Fulton Burley of the amazing eyebrows and lilting tenor. In a gentle coincidence, Betty passed away one day after Wally did.
With the encouragement and massive assistance of his longtime friend Gene Sands, Wally was able to publish an autobiography a scant two years before he passed – it’s full of memorabilia and wonderful stories, and would be a graceful addition to the coffee table of anyone who remembers Wally fondly:
The book is only available at the Wally Boag Website; a review can be read at Yesterland. It’s unlikely that there will be another printing; my autographed copy is numbered 57 of 200, and I treasure it, treasure it, treasure it.
Wally was honored with a window above Main Street in Disneyland. In addition to voicing Jose the parrot, Wally had a large hand in writing the script for the Enchanted Tiki Room, which to this day remains one of my favorite attractions on the park. (Fulton Burley, mentioned above, voiced “Michael” the Irish parrot as well.)
A replica of the window graced a garden house at Wally’s longtime home in California.
Julie Andrews had been a part of Wally’s “Starlight Roof” show in London at the age of 12, where she would sing “Polonaise” from Mignon. In 1963, Julie Andrews as at Disneyland prior to the release of The Sound of Music. She stopped by to visit with Wally at Disneyland; he brought her onstage during his show and they sang a duet together.
Wally was featured in a birthday party video which included balloons for kids to blow up and decorate.
Wally as the Traveling Salesman at the Golden Horseshoe Revue
Wally as Pecos Bill
My youngest son MikeD with Wally on the beach near Santa Monica, around 1999 or so.
Wally’s Den
Wally at his desk in 2008, holding galley proofs for his autobiography.
Wally’s Wikipedia Page has a number of additional links about him and his career, for those inclined to learn more.
Time must march on, but I will miss this dear man terribly. I have been so honored to know him and his family, and my heart is lightened by the echoes of his life well-lived whenever I think of him.
The Old Wolf has spoken.
I love the way WordPress filters out spam comments automatically – they have a strong system (Akismet) and thus far nothing has slipped through. In the last few days alone, I’ve accumulated the following shill “comments”:
Many of the comments are written to look like real comments from real people, but contain embedded links or additional commercial text. An example: “This is a nice site over here. I think I’ll visit your website more if you post more of this kind of specific information. Many thanks for posting this information.” But the comment was posted by a sex chat website. These comments are automatically filtered and no one ever sees them; in your face, spammers.
It just blows my mind how many people out there ignore all conventions of decency when it comes to pushing their product. Simply astonishing. Discussion forums are also frequently the target of what are called “spambots” – programs that register on a forum with usernames like “bksjwevrruz”, exclusively for the purpose of posting spam. Even if the comment posted is innocuous, somewhere in the username or user profile is a link back to the spammer’s website which a crawler will pick up and count as a linkback, thereby raising the host site’s ranking (or so they hope.)
It’s a jungle – as Quaritch said about Pandora, “Out there beyond that fence every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes.” Except on the internet, the eyeballs they want are clicks on their pages, so they can get your money, steal your personal data, or infect your computer with malware.
Be careful out there.
The Old Wolf has spoken.
Occasionally a troll pops up on a discussion board. These are individuals who write inflammatory or disparaging posts, hoping for a flurry of outraged responses which they can then refute with further insults. In troll-speak, they do it for the lulz, meaning “for the joy of disrupting another’s emotional equilibrium.”
Image Source: Unknown
From this article in Science Friday comes a summary of troll behavior:
‘Trolling can
Wikipedia counsels, “Experienced participants in online forums know that the most effective way to discourage a troll is usually to ignore him or her, because responding tends to encourage trolls to continue disruptive posts.” This is usually summarized by forum participants as “Please do not feed the trolls”. If there are no lulz to be had, a troll has no reason for existence and will in general move on to what he or she considers greener pastures.
One forum I participated in fell victim to an especially egregious attack, which – sadly – resulted in the demise of that community’s incarnation (it subsequently went elsewhere, in a locale better protected from infiltration. In an astounding flurry of pseudo-creativity, the following piece of literary vandalism practically wrote itself, but I’m pleased with the outcome, because it served to get all my frustration with these sub-humans out of my head and down on “paper”, as it were.
with the most profound apologies to J. R. R. Tolkien
Troll sat alone in his filthy home,
He had no reason outside to roam;
His pimply face was a sore disgrace
And friends were hard to come by.
Done by! Gum by!
In a filthy home he dwelt alone,
And friends were hard to come by.
He’d surf the net, always on the watch
For nasty pictures that would tickle his crotch
But the thing he loved best was to curse and swear
And act like a total retard¹.
Bombard! Blackguard!
He’d yank people’s chains for laughs and lulz
And act like a total retard!
‘Ha ha!’, said Troll, ‘I pwn your soul.
So why don’t you shut your old cake hole?
Your posts are lame and I take control
Of your blog, you stupid loser!
Boozer! Schmoozer!
I can drool and spit and you can’t do squat²
‘Cuz I’m safe from poor old loser!
But the folks whose paths he tends to cross
Have naught but contempt for this pile of dross
So they simply pretend that he isn’t there
And Troll gets all the madder.
Sadder! Adder!
When poor old Troll doesn’t get results
He just gets all the madder.
‘For a couple o’ pins’, says Troll, and grins,
‘I’ll swear so much you’ll think I’m twins.
I’ll make you see you’ve got nothing on me
And your base belong to me now!
Hee now! See now!
I’m king of the world, bow down to me,
All your base belong to me now!
But just as he thought his victim was caught,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
The blogs were locked, and Troll was shocked
That everyone ignored him!
Bored him! Floored him!
He’d been dismissed, and was mighty pissed
That everyone ignored him!
But blacker than coal is the heart of Troll
Whose life is as barren as the Kansas dust bowl.
He’ll just move on to greener fields
Where folks will rise to his baiting.
Hating! Grating!
Old Troll laughs, when he hears folks groan,
And he thinks he’s won with his baiting.
But the folks who win, to Troll’s chagrin
Are the ones who learn the rule herein;
Ignore the Troll with the heart of coal
And he’ll quickly travel elsewhere!
Nose hair! Hot air!
His world’s so sad, but we don’t care
As long as he’s flaming elsewhere!
——————–
The Old Wolf has spoken.
Footnotes:
¹ Yes, I’m aware this is no longer a term to be applied to people who are mentally challenged.
² While composing this, I thought of a better rhyme – but I strive to write family-friendly material.
Playing in the World Game 