Showing posts with label war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label war. Show all posts

Friday, February 14, 2020

"Love" in 1915, but "mud" by 1917: The words that most frequently pop up in World War One poetry.


The title says it all.

Reddit user u/est-1913 used The Poetry Foundation's information to create a visual representation of the most common words used in World War One poetry.

Knowing what we know of The Great War, its brutality, its outcome, etc., what's striking is the emotional progression of how the war finds itself represented in language, which u/est-1913 displays in the following graph.

"Love" leads the way in the hopeful beginning stages of the war in 1915. Two years of trench warfare later, and "mud" dominates poems by 1917.




In the decade following the war, "dead," "died," and "time" become most commonly used.

Love. Mud. Dead. Time.

The history of World War One in four words.

It doesn't take much to wonder why.




Saturday, April 8, 2017

Saturday Morning PSA of The Week: Oh, it's groovy all right.



Today's public service announcements are all information and no imagination--but yesteryear's? Those were full of drama, plot lines, and cameos from B-grade celebrities, all wedged into one minute of absolute fantasticness.

Consider this a trip back in time to when PSAs were sometimes worth watching more than the Saturday morning cartoons.


Today:  Either it's Japanese anime or America on LSD and jazz.





Random Thoughts and Questions:
1.)
 Make sure you take your seizure medication before watching this PSA.
2.)  "Kind of nice, really, what happened in this country not so long ago." Uhh, Vietnam? Korean War? World War II? World War I? The Spanish-American War? Civil War? War of 1812? Jim Crow Laws? Slavery? What nice thing popped up? Maybe the flag-sewing industry is the nice thing? I dunno.
3.)  "Washington and Lincoln, real people like you and me." If they weren't real people, then aliens have been messing with us a lot longer than we thought.
4.)  What's with the drums? Did they get Buddy Rich to do this on the cheap?
5.)  "It was a whole new groove then. And it's still a pretty groovy idea right now." I've always associated the American flag and politics with groovy ideas.
6.)  The Air Force gets a shoutout in the last seconds. Because...uhh...Lincoln and Washington were amazing fighter pilots in their day. Yeah--that's it.


Saturday, October 15, 2016

Saturday Morning PSA of The Week: ...and the Army Reserve PSA probably has Barry Manilow singing.



Today's public service announcements are all information and no imagination--but yesteryear's? Those were full of drama, plot lines, and cameos from B-grade celebrities, all wedged into one minute of absolute fantasticness.

Consider this a trip back in time to when PSAs were sometimes worth watching more than the Saturday morning cartoons.

Today:  I'm not sure if I want to nap or go to war.





Random Thoughts and Questions:
1.)  Nothing will encourage young people to join the military like the soft, dulcet tones of Dionne Warwick.
2.)  Apparently John Denver or The Carpenters weren't available to lend a tune.
3.)  Admittedly, you can never go wrong with some smooth music from the horn section.
4.)  What's up with the little boy heaving the ball 40ft over his dad's head? Seems like a troublemaker to me.
5.)  Does it really take four people running to fly a kite ten feet off the ground?
6.)  New Jersey gets a separate 800-number to call. Because even the national Air Force Reserve wants to keep New Jersey people at bay.


Thursday, July 7, 2016

Rare Thomas Jefferson letter is historic, mildly sassy.




You've heard similar stories before. Someone's rummaging around in an attic, finds some old, forgotten boxes, and discovers a piece of history worth $325,000. This inspires you to immediately run to your attic or basement where hopes of wonderful riches are quickly dismissed upon learning you only have old musty sweaters, 8-track cassettes, and dashed dreams. Que sera, sera.

And so the story goes again. A family is Mississippi recently discovered a letter in their attic that was written by Thomas Jefferson shortly after the War of 1812. Jefferson wrote the letter to then-U.S. Ambassador to France William Crawford, a relative of the modern Mississippi family.

In the letter, up for sale by The Raab Collection, Jefferson remarks about the Treaty of Ghent, which effectively ended the war and which was written in his Monticello home. The letter also offers Jefferson's thoughts on Napoleon--who had just lost his own war with Britain occurring the same time in Europe as the War of 1812 was raging in North America. According to Jefferson, Napoleon's "downfall was illy timed for us. It gave to England an opportunity to turn full handed on us, when we were unprepared. No matter. We can beat her on our own soil…"

Oooh, sassy passive aggression! Jefferson doing a little chest puffing and dismissive hand waving at both the British and Napoleon in one sentence.

All of Jefferson's sass can be yours for the sale price of $325,000.

But double-check your basement first. Just in case.



Sunday, June 5, 2016

Fashionable Words: Malinger




[Sometimes words die out of fashion. But sometimes those words are good words, words with a certain appeal that can't be denied forever. Those words should be brought back into fashion, used frequently and used often. These are those words.]


Word:

Malinger



Definition:    verb

Exaggerate or feign illness, especially to avoid work.



Origin:

There's little the English and French agree on except drinking, fancy hats, and an unwavering passion for Gérard Depardieu. You can't find sexy, morbidly obese, sixty-something character actors just anywhere after all. Right, Gérard?


Damn right!

The English also love borrowing the occasional French word to use in their own vocabulary, such as malinger(er) or malingering. If there's anything the world can unite behind it's being a deadbeat.

The English malinger comes from the very similar French malingre, which means to be sickly. In turn, malingre has just evolved from the prefix mal- (bad) and Old French word heingre, which roughly means haggard. "Bad haggard"? That's right--loosely translated Old French can also sound like the worst name for a country music band.

Any thoughts, Gérard?


We all are shocked, Gérard.

Malinger first gained traction in the early 19th century, and then was quickly adopted by both psychologists (as a disorder) and the American military (for soldiers feigning illness), creating potentially the only time those two institutions shall ever be spoken of in the same sentence.

Indeed, malingering can lead to a court martial in the American armed forces. No coincidence then that the word spiked in its everyday common American usage around 1918, right as World War One raged. The word makes a second spike in use post-World War Two thirty years later.


No, Gérard, not everyone has your spitfire when it comes to war.

Today the word is used either in upper crust society parties, said with a jaw jutted out, or at your shrink's office to explain why you always have an excuse for skipping work because of that [[wink]] chronic bad back of yours.



Most obscure UrbanDictionary.com definition of malingerer:

[verbatim]
1.  A person who fakes an illness or injury to get out of work. Who is commonly know for screwing over his or her brothers so they have to work more overtime.



Sounds like a sibling rift somewhere, Gérard!



Used in a sentence:

Gérard was never called a malingerer with his strong work ethic!



Why you should use malingerer in your everyday life:

We all know that one person in our life who's a deadbeat and has an excuse for everything.



Word Awesomeness Scale (1-to5):

Five!

Calling a deadbeat a malingerer is like using an insult wrapped in satin.

Right, Gérard?


Sounds about right.



Monday, May 30, 2016

'In Flanders Fields'



Memorial Day will be lost to grilling and swimming and picnics in abundance. But at one point it memorialized something more than the end of spring.

'In Flanders Fields' was, at one point, the most notable of war poems ever written. Now, a century after it was penned by Canadian physician Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae during the throes of World War One, the poem is less fashionable, less taught, less remembered than during its release, but never less important.


In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.



Friday, May 27, 2016

The Friday Poem: Beauty And Beauty, by Rupert Brooke



As another week concludes, we end with a random poem. Famous poets, obscure poets, amateur poets, whatever poets--just a poem to cap off the week.

Like this one:


Beauty And Beauty, by Rupert Brooke

When Beauty and Beauty meet
All naked, fair to fair,
The earth is crying-sweet,
And scattering-bright the air,
Eddying, dizzying, closing round,
With soft and drunken laughter;
Veiling all that may befall
After -- after --

Where Beauty and Beauty met,
Earth's still a-tremble there,
And winds are scented yet,
And memory-soft the air,
Bosoming, folding glints of light,
And shreds of shadowy laughter;
Not the tears that fill the years
After -- after --



Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Napoleonic war diary found in secondhand bookstore in Tasmania.

That's how humans used to write.

Royal Engineer John Squire was a noted soldier for the king's military, a learned man of good standing with a penchant for fine handwriting. This led to a diary detailing his stops in battle during the crown's fight with Napoleon's war across the continent. Any sort of diary two centuries old is valuable, never mind one of an officer from the Napoleonic War.

Fast forward 200-years, and Squire's diary was discovered in a cupboard--stacked amongst old, dusty books--in the back room of  bookstore in Tasmania of all places. And no one knows exactly how it ended up there.

According to the BBC, the bookstore owner believes "the journal could have been in the shop for 20 years, but no-one [know's] how it arrived. A working theory is that it arrived with the colonists who established Van Diemen's Land." Van Diemen's Land was the former name of Tasmania shortly after it became known to Europeans in 1642.

Squire was no slouch, with a military resume that saw him at British campaigns in Egypt, including being present when the Rosetta Stone was handed over to the crown. He later spent time in South America, Sweden, and Portugal, where he eventually died of a fever.

Yet, strangely enough, his long lost diary might have been a better traveler than he ever was--however it was that it traveled.



FUN FACT!: After being discovered in 1642, Tasmania was thought to be part of mainland Australia. Somehow, despite a settlement long established on the southeastern tip, it took until 1798 for an explorer to circumnavigate the island and realize, you know, duh.


Photo:  abc.net.au



Tuesday, April 26, 2016

"Schoolie McSchoolface" should be the name of a Texas elementary school.




The Austin, TX, school district recently decided to rename the Robert E. Lee Elementary School. This being Texas, people built themselves into a lather over such a decision, despite the small fact that the Confederacy lost the war and all. Nothing says 'Merica! like naming a school after someone who failed. Bonus points for racial undertones, too.

An open call for a new school name was held and the public responded with alternatives. The list includes--but is not limited to--the following fine, classy, and verbatim selections:

Austin Taliban Elementary School
Ayn Rand Elementary
Bleeding Heart Liberal Elementary
Adolf Hitler School for Friendship and Tolerance (eight nominations)
Bruce Lee Elementary (three nominations)
Communist Elementary
Drew Brees Elementary (three nominations)
Dwayne Johnson Elementary School
Flava Flav Elementary
Forgetting Your Past Dooms You to Repeat It Elementary
Generic School Name
Hypothetical Perfect Person Memorial Elementary School
IGNORANCE IS BLISS ELEMENTARY
James Earl Ray Elementary School
Jefferson Davis Elementary (three nominations)
John Cena Elementary School
Kanye West Elementary (two nominations)
Kim Il-Sung High School (two nominations)
Leadership & Excellence in Education (LEE)
Lee Elementary (thirteen nominations)
Lil Jon Elementary
Malcolm X (two nominations)
Nathan Bedford Forrest Elementary School (two nominations)
Neil deGrasse Tyson
O.J. Simpson Elementary
Pat Tillman Elementary School (four nominations)
Politically Correct Elementary School #1
Raul Castro Elementary
Revisionist Elementary School
Richard Pryor Elementary (six nominations)
Rudolf Hess Primary
School of Progressive and Socialist Studies
Schoolie McSchoolface
Schooly McSchoolerson (two nominations)
Schooly McSchoolerton
Spike Lee Elementary (four nominations)
Texas Declaration of Independence
The Elementary School Formerly Known as Robert E. Lee (two nominations)
The Illuminati
The Rubber Duckies
Traitor
Vladimir Ilyich Lenin Elementary School
Werner von Braun Institute of Science and Technology
Willie Nelson Elementary (two nominations)

There were other random nominees as well, including a shoutout to Appamattox Court House--located in Virginia, mind you--where the Civil War ended, except the individual who nominated the historic building spelled it "Appamaattox." Admittedly, it's easy to get carried away with double letters.

The big winner was Donald J. Trump Elementary with 45 nominations. Harper Lee, related in name only to General Lee and native of Alabama and New York, neither of which was Texas last anyone checked a map, came in fourth place with 30 nominations.

No final decision has been made, but I think the country and Texans alike can come together over Schoolie McSchoolface. It conjures images of a cartoon character and a McDonald's Happy Meal. And isn't that what American education is really all about?




Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Some Famous Writer Once Lived Here: Oxford, Mississippi



Some Famous Writer Once Lived Here is where we check out cities or towns that--you guessed it--a famous writer once lived. Picture the illegitimate lovechild between the US Census report and a tourist pamphlet from a local chamber of commerce. What's it like there today? Here's where we find out.




Today:  William Faulkner once lived in Oxford, Mississippi:

William Faulkner has been called the Shakespeare of America. This is startling because it's difficult to picture Shakespeare with a southern accent and brandishing a shotgun.

At some point in the last hundred years, Mississippi gave up the title to most frightening American state to Alabama after a lengthy struggle where multiple lives were lost in a muddin' fiasco involving pickup trucks and four-wheelers largely adorned in Confederate flags. No one knows what happened specifically, but rumors abound that it involved light beer, six brain cells, and Alabama coming out on top. Strangely, it was a high point in Mississippi's history.

Alabama celebrates victory and defeat at the same time.

While you can still hear the frightening pluck of banjos and subtle din of monster trucks in the distance, Mississippi does have some fairly polite, even classy areas largely infiltrated by a strange phenomenon called "education."

Although anyone who has ever seen a professor wear a paisley sweater vest knows education can be frightening, too.


The basics of Oxford, Mississippi:

Location:
Far north from the Gulf coast, Oxford is only 85-miles away via major highways, or 78-miles via the minor variety, from Memphis, TN, reminding people that while it might not be Xanadu or desirable, Memphis is nearby and sure as hell isn't Mississippi.

Do not confuse Oxford, MS, with Oxford, England. Common mistake. But Oxford, England, is 4,336 miles away and involves heavy amounts of dry humor and rejoicing in the rain.

2010 Census:

Population: 18,916 people make up Oxford, up 61% since 2000. Almost 1-in-3 residents resides in poverty though, proving that--oh, wow--oh, god. A third are in poverty? One of the best parts of Mississippi has that much poverty? Oh, Christ. I give up. Just continue on without me. I'm done.

Racial Makeup: In 2010, 13 people claimed to be of Hawaiian or Pacific Islander backgrounds. That's up from 2 people during the 2000 census. Those 2 people were horribly, horribly lost from rogue Google Maps coordinates, it appears.


What to see, what to do in Oxford, Mississippi:

The top thing to do in Oxford, according to TripAdvisor? Visit the University of Mississippi! Nothing says a sexy vacation quite like spending all day roaming a random college campus in 90-degree heat, sipping bourbon, and yelling something about rebel pride. That'll be the envy of everyone on your Instagram feed.

The University of Mississippi goes by the nickname Ole Miss, which they claim is from their old yearbook title, the Ole Miss Annual, and has nothhhhing to do with slaves calling the wife of a plantation owner "ole miss." As if Mississippi would ever do something subtly racist. It's practically the ACLU of the south after all.


No Rhett Butler here.

There's also William Faulkner's estate, Rowan Oak. It's like Gone with the Wind's Tara Plantation, except with less Scarlett O'Hara chest-thumping, and Rhett Butler actually doesn't give a damn and never wants to be seen at Rowan Oak. For $5 you can tour the house and remember all of those Faulkner books you made sure never to read in college.

Do you like feeling depressed? There's the Confederate Cemetery in town. Yes. That Confederacy. Says Regina from Memphis on TripAdvisor, it is "wonderful history." Oh, Regina, no matter how you approach cemeteries or slavery, no one ever pauses and thinks, "Well, you know, that's some little slice of wonderfulness right there."

Feeling like a little church revival? Swing on into College Hill Presbyterian Church, famous for its antebellum architecture and where Faulkner got married. Are you a Presbyterian? Do you want to be? No? You're making this difficult for all involved.

When in doubt, there's always Wal-Mart located about two minutes outside of the University of Mississippi's campus. Phew.


Where to eat in Oxford:

Are you tired of Colonel Sanders and Kentucky's claim to fried chicken? Visit Gus's World Famous Fried Chicken then. Do you know Gus? No. Neither do I. Is Gus lying about being world famous? Let's just agree Gus has overstepped his proclamation just a tad.

Ajax Diner sells fried food as well, but also has toothpicks in the ceiling. I'm not sure why, but if the food doesn't sell you, low expectations might do the trick.

Looking for awkward names for your restaurant of choice? There's Handy Andy. Admit it--you raised an eyebrow wondering what Andy's getting handsy over, too. Is he good with general contracting work? Sure, let's assume that.


Isn't Aubigny-sur-Nère, France, a sister city of Oxford?

Yes. And like most siblings, it really doesn't want to talk much.

Second guessing its parentage.


William Faulkner's thoughts on his hometown:

(In reference to Yoknapatawpha County, a fictional stand-in for Oxford in his books.)

"I like to think of the world I created as being a kind of keystone in the universe; that, small as that keystone is, if it were ever taken away the universe itself would collapse."





Thursday, March 17, 2016

Walt Whitman wrote a letter for a dying soldier to his wife.



Walt Whitman has been labeled many things, but humble is not one of them.

The same Walt Whitman that gets guff for being cocky about his writing ability is also the same Walt Whitman modest enough to spend many days during the Civil War visiting hospitals filled with wounded and dying soldiers, writing letters for them or simply sitting down to have a chat.

Jackie Budell, a specialist with the National Archives, tells NPR that a letter discovered by researchers in February is only the third known document written by a solider to his family, but done in Whitman's hand.

"He just literally visited people. And he bought stationery and he would bring it with him and he would offer to write letters home for them," she tells NPR's Michel Martin. "Many [soldiers] were illiterate but also many were just too sickly to write so he would offer to do that."

One such sickly soldier was Robert Nelson Jabo, a French Canadian living in New York state who was a Union soldier dying in a hospital too far away to reach family. Whitman sat down with Jabo to write the following:


Washington, Jan. 21, 1865(6)

My Dear Wife,

You must excuse me for not having written to you before. I have not been very well + did not feel much like writing – but I feel considerably better now – my complaint is an affection of the lungs. I am mustered out of service, but am not at present well enough to come home. I hope you will try to write back as soon as you receive this + let me know how you all are, how things are going on – let me know how it is with mother. I write this by means of a friend who is now sitting by my side + I hope it will be God's will that we shall yet meet again. Well I send you all my love + must now close.

Your affectionate husband,

Nelson Jabo

Written by Walt Whitman

a friend.


"I think Walt's time was the most important gift that he was giving these men," Budell tells NPR. "Really they just needed someone to sit by their side."

As did Jabo. He died from tuberculosis shortly after this letter was written.

He never made it home, he never saw his wife.



Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Nike co-founder gives $400 million to Stanford.




Stanford University had an endowment of $21.5 billion at the end of the 2014 fiscal year, or an estimated $22.25 billion through 2015. It's all a matter of which statistic you choose to look at. But what's $750 million amongst friends?

Today, Nike co-founder Phil Knight announced he was donating $400 million to his former school (he attended Oregon for his undergraduate degree) in order to create the Knight-Hennessy Scholars Program, which will pay for roughly 100 students to attend Stanford and work toward global issues.

"The Knight-Hennessy Scholars Program brings the very best students from around the world to study at Stanford in any discipline they're interested in, and helps prepare them to be world leaders," Stanford President John Hennessy says.

The issue here is money. A school with one of the largest endowments in the world probably doesn't need another infusion of $400 million to its coffers for relatively nondescript reasons. Secondly, what does the scholarship actually mean? No, if we pull ourselves back from the immensity of such a donation--really--what does it mean?

"We will bring together outstanding, courageous scholars to benefit from Stanford’s innovative educational environment, who then go on to lead governments, businesses, nonprofits and other complex organizations and develop creative solutions to effect positive change." So says a statement from the school.

Courageous? But--how? How do you know it will be positive change simply because they studied there free? And--again--courageous? Courage is having your limbs blown off in war, not studying nondescript matters at Stanford for free.

It's a wonderful statement of nothing. It means nothing. It uses wonderfully polysyllabic words to make the whole situation sound important--but what's the litmus test? Those lucky enough to attend Stanford will already have a pedigree few others will ever have. But what do they accomplish with such a nondescript scholarship?

What they accomplish might be worthwhile, but is nothing courageous.






Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Amherst College no longer acknowledges its namesake.

Lord Jeff pondering who to kill next.


Lord Jeffery Amherst was a colonial-era military commander for Great Britain in North America and Commander-in-Chief of the Forces for the crown during the Seven Years' War. In case you're foggy on your numbered-year wars, the Seven Years' War was between those two quarrelsome jamokes, England and France. Lord Amherst was a key figure in the war, where he oversaw key victories in then-French territories like Montreal and Quebec City.

Lord Jeffery Amherst was also not a friendly and benevolent man. He wanted to eradicate the Native American population by dishing out smallpox-coated blankets and implored Great Britain to "try every other method that can serve to extirpate this execrable race." Swell guy.

But benevolence in warfare doesn't win you fame, and fame doesn't exist 250 years ago unless you have a variety of cities and towns in America named after you, especially in the northeast. Take Amherst, MA, named after Lord Jeffery and home to the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, Amherst College, and Emily Dickinson's agoraphobic ghost.

Except now Amherst College is looking to distance themselves from any association to Lord Jeffery and his use as the school's unofficial mascot. As a number of students, school officials, and the New York Times are quick to point out, Amherst College wasn't named after Lord Jeffery. The college was named after the town! Not the same thing!

((.......................pause........................))

Try not to get a headache overthinking this one. There's a thousand arguments that could be made to kick Lord Jeffery to the curb, but your head will throb if you try to disassociate the town and college's naming origins.




Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Germany to finally publish 'Mein Kampf.' Millions about to fall asleep.

Looks like someone else read Mein Kampf.

Germany has spent the better part of the last 80-years trying to smother any acknowledgment of their Nazi past. This includes banning the publication of Mein Kampf, Adolf Hitler's roughly 600-page rant written decades before World War II.

Indeed, Germany was granted the copyright to the book after the war by Allies--and Germany chose to make sure publication never happened within its borders during that time. Copyright law states the holder of the copyright owns it for 70 years after the writer's death. Now, with the 70th anniversary of Hitler's death upon us, the copyright is set to expire--and the German Institute for Contemporary History intends to publish Mein Kampf for the first time in the country.

It won't simply be a basic republication of the book though. German law also forbids anything related to Nazism that isn't heavily annotated to be critical of the regime, propaganda, and heinous actions undertaken then. Thus, Hitler's 600-page snoozer* of a book will now be inflated to nearly 2,000 pages, filled with notes, commentaries, and annotations regarding all "lies, half-truths and vicious tirades," the institute says.

The book is estimated to cost $63.




*Buy Mein Kampf in person at a bookstore sometime. You'll never feel more awkward purchasing a book at a Barnes & Noble than you will when you slide that one across the counter to the middle-aged woman with glasses on the bridge of her nose channeling her inner librarian, as she gazes up at you briefly to make sure you aren't shady. [I was doing a school project on World War II.] Toe-curling awkwardness, where you'll want to say--loudly--"I'm not an anti-Semite! It's research! I swear!" while you start to sweat and question why you didn't just buy the damn thing online. To make matters worse, Hitler was as good of a writer as he was as a human being--which is to say horrible, horrible, horrible. If you find Ambien, Lunesta, or any other prescription medication isn't helping you sleep, that alcohol doesn't do the trick, you can take solace in the fact that you'll pass out from sheer boredom five pages into reading Mein Kampf.

This is all to say that Germany is about to unleash a wave of book-induced narcolepsy upon its people.




Monday, November 23, 2015

New book reveals one British poet shot another British poet in the foot...just because.




Who's to say that poets are a bunch of milquetoasts who have no personality, only to sit around ruminating about abstraction and iambic pentameter?

Oh--you think they're crazy? Okay then. You're right.

A new book reveals that famed British poet and autobiographer Laurie Lee once became so incensed with a fellow poet--Paul Potts--that he grabbed an airgun and shot him in the foot. Potts, originally from Canada, but living in Scotland, had wandered into a shop where Lee worked during World War II. "He caused me no offence," Lee wrote, "but thinking there were too many poets around, I took a shot at him one day with an airgun." Potts didn't take kindly to it, surprisingly. "The pellet hit him in the foot," Lee continues. "He leapt in the air, turned round and berated some innocent old woman behind him, and left immediately for the Hebrides."

Sounds like some sensible, good old-fashion fun!

Lee encountered many poets in his day, including the famed Welsh--and drunk--poet, Dylan Thomas. Writes Lee: "Halfway through the morning, I'd see Dylan Thomas, like a plump, furry little mole, pop up from his basement opposite and paddling off to the pub."

Alluding that Thomas was a lush is one thing--but calling him a furry little mole is just low.

"If we met in the street we didn't speak, but nodded," continues Lee. "I was teetotal in those days, and certain lines were drawn."

Nodding? There's a solid chance Thomas was just trying to stop the world from spinning.



Saturday, November 21, 2015

Copyright issue creates a problem over who actually wrote Anne Frank's diary.




Seventy years ago, Anne Frank was killed at the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. Her diary, known the world over, was published with a preface written by her father that the words contained within the pages were almost entirely her own.

Except now, in roughly six weeks on January 1, 2016, the copyright over the diary expires throughout most of Europe. Copyright law in Europe is based largely on when the author died.

Now, a Swiss foundation, the Anne Frank Fonds, which owns the copyright to Frank's diary, wants to change the authorship to claim that Oscar Frank, Anne's father, was a co-author--not just the editor. In doing so, the copyright would be extended until 2050, to coincide with the 70 year anniversary of Oscar Frank's death, who died in 1980.

Agnès Tricoire, a intellectual property rights lawyer in Paris tells the New York Times that the foundation is walking on shaky ground. "If you follow their arguments, it means that they have lied for years about the fact that it was only written by Anne Frank," says Tricoire.

It also opens up a wound between the foundation and the Anne Frank House Museum, which have had a frosty relationship over, in essence, who has more of a claim to Frank and her intellectual property. The museum has been working with historians on an exhibit for years regarding the diary for when the copyright ends--and, if the copyright is extended, that frosty relationship most assuredly will grow only colder.

To further make things chaotic, in 1991 there was a new edition of Frank's diary published by a different editor, Mirjam Pressler, who added upwards of 25% new material from the diary, as well as revised the original version. Pressler is still alive today, meaning the copyright on Pressler's extended version of the Anne Frank diary still won't reach the public domain until seventy years from Pressler's death, whenever that occurs.

Or, as the Times notes, Anne Frank once asked in her diary a simple question:

"Why do grown-ups quarrel so easily?"



Friday, November 20, 2015

Gather around children! Let's all look at Winnie-the-Pooh's skull!




The skull that belonged to the original black bear that inspired author A.A. Milne to write the series of honey-obsessed Winnie-the-Pooh books has been put on display for the first time at the Royal College of Surgeon's Hunterian Museum. And the skull shows that, indeed, the lovable bear had serious tooth decay due to a penchant for sweets.

You might be wondering why Pooh's skull is even at a surgeon's museum to begin with--or that there was an original bear to be the inspiration for Pooh. First off, A.A. Milne's son, Christopher Robin's (yes, same name as the book) favorite male bear in the children's books was, in real life, actually a female black bear, named Winnipeg, named after the city in Manitoba. Winnipeg's owner, Canadian Captain Harry Coleburn bought the bear as a cub in 1914--and took the bear with him to England for training during World War I, in what we can only assume was one hell of a transport across the Atlantic.

The original Winnipeg snacking on sweets and somehow not snacking on a child.

When deployed to France to fight, Capt. Coleburn left Winnipeg at the London Zoo, where she would live the rest of her days over the next couple decades. It wasn't until Milne took his son, Christopher, to the zoo--and that the boy decided Winnipeg was his favorite attraction--that the author began to create a children's book. Winnipeg had a sex change, went from black to gold, and became the classic we know today. Winnie-the-Pooh was born.

After the books were a huge success, visitors to the zoo routinely fed Winnipeg sweets (she was apparently a very friendly and docile bear). That surely made Winnipeg fat and happy, but it also rotted her teeth savagely. Dentistry on animals not being what it is today, no one thought much about it. When she died in 1934, her remains were donated to the museum, and the skull we see today ended up at the Odontological Museum section of Royal College of Surgeon's Hunterian Museum.

No word on whatever became of Eeyore.




I kind of wish I had a bear named Saskatoon now.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Book Review: Catch-22, by Joseph Heller



This is part of the continuing series of random book reviews that'll be nothing like a New York Times book review. Gone is the ten thousand word analysis. Instead, here is a book review like you'd tell your friends.



The book:  Joseph Heller's Catch-22


Review:

Could it be 50 pages shorter? Probably.

Could a couple characters be cut out? Maybe.

But is it worth reading? Definitely.

Catch-22 is one of those books people label a classic, but it's never placed on any of those trite "100 Greatest American Novels of All Time!" lists. Why, I'm not sure.

Maybe it's because the novel walks a fine line between humor and the ungodly horrors of war, so that people don't know what to make of it. Great books can't have irreverent humor after all! Only misery and depression is allowed! If you haven't popped half a bottle of Prozac and a fifth of Scotch by the end of a book, then said book can't be great apparently.

In the end, Catch-22 isn't about war. It's really just about the insanity that exists in all of us. Like how insane that this isn't one of the "100 Greatest American Novels of All Time!"



Monday, October 5, 2015

The 'Epic of Gilgamesh' just became a bit more epic.


"The Epic of Gilgamesh" is considered the first-ever epic poem and, arguably, the first great piece of literature. Now, after a recent clay tablet discovery, the epic has grown a bit more epic.

In 2011, the Sulaymaniyah Museum in Slemani, Iraq, purchased a set of roughly 80 to 90 clay tablets from a known smuggler, largely as a means of recouping lost artifacts that disappeared during the American invasion and war in the country. It sounds like the plot to the most boring George Clooney movie ever. But it turns out one tablet wasn't just any tablet.

Farouk Al-Rawi, a professor at the University of London, advised the Sulaymaniyah Museum to pay the $800 asking price for one specific mud-caked tablet, as its cuneiform script stood out to him. And for good reason. It was a lost 'chapter' to "The Epic of Gilgamesh."

"The Epic of Gilgamesh," in case you skipped it in high school, tells the story of Gilgamesh, king or Uruk, and his companion, Enkidu, as they travel to the Cedar Forest to defeat the ogre Humbaba. Previously, the Cedar Forest was thought to be fairly silent. No more. The tablet adds 20 lines to the poem, largely describing the sights and sounds within the forest.

"The new tablet continues where other sources break off, and we learn that the Cedar Forest is no place of serene and quiet glades. It is full of noisy birds and cicadas, and monkeys scream and yell in the trees," Professor Andrew George, who assisted on the translation, told Live Science.

George continued his description, saying this chapter parodies courtly life, "like King Louie in 'The Jungle Book."

But does Baloo the Bear make an appearance? I think that's what we all really want to know.



Friday, September 25, 2015

If alive today, Ernest Hemingway would've been on 'Hoarders'


220lbs, of which 40lbs was all beard.


Ernest Hemingway loved the thrill of killing game, and apparently that excitement continued to the game of potentially being killed by a stack of his own mementos.

A new exhibit at New York's Morgan Library and Museum displays an extensive amount of minutia of Hemingway's own paperwork, partly borrowed by the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library--from visa war cards to original first drafts of short stories--to the point where it's apparent he had a fondness for himself.

Two highlights include a soured relationship with F. Scott Fitzgerald, where one letter is signed off  "Kiss my ass / EH." Another Hemingway fury moment occurs when he begins to comment about one reviewer's critique of his book, remarking he can take his review and shove it you know where--and supply the grease. Try not to be stunned by the subtly.

You don't see this sort of behavior out of Faulkner. Mainly because usually he was drunk.




photo: JFK Library