Saturday, July 04, 2015

Cucubuth

Yesterday I was reading in THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY about "Lyncanthropia, which Avicenna calls Cucubuth, others Wolf-madness, when men run howling about graves and fields in the night," and it really rang a bell! I mean, I was like, "Wasn't I reading about werewolves on another Fourth of July some years ago?" And indeed I was. But yesterday was the third of July, but this "blog" needs to be filled up with something, and this is what you get. "This malady, saith Avicenna, troubleth men most in February." Not around here, pal!

Thursday, July 02, 2015

Lacrimae Rerum

Last night I stuffed an entire handful of wasabi peas into my mouth and started crunching away on them, such a large handful that the resulting heat caused tears to stream unbidden down my cheeks! And then I did it again. Because I was like, "This food is making me feel something!"

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Probably Very Loud

I'm ashamed to say that when I saw Jack Carter's obit in the New York Times today the first thing I thought about is how much Robert Goulet's son-in-law hated him: "The band dubbed him 'Captain Rage.' He made everyone so unhappy that we had him thrown off the bus." I almost titled this "post" "Captain Rage Is Dead" but it seemed disrespectful to Mr. Carter's family. I found this photo from the NYT obit fascinating. I can't conceive of the occasion. None of these "comic entertainers" go together, for reasons you could never understand unless you were Ward McCarthy or McNeil or me. Just look how uncomfortable Wally Cox is! I was going to do a big analysis for your benefit. I was going to call Rowan and Martin "louche" and talk about the "impish sad clown razzamatazz" of Jimmy Durante. But you know what? Who cares? I sent the photo to McNeil and Ward. Haven't heard back from McNeil, but Ward's response says everything that needs to be said about the gathering: "I imagine it was probably very loud."

Monday, June 29, 2015

Knights Hate Carts

Hey! Remember how I told you when you're reading a big, thick book you should also be reading a smaller book that is easier to carry in case you have to go somewhere? Well, that advice doesn't make sense anymore; all of you have your fancy electronic reading devices, so all books are the same size to you, so I guess the joke's on me. But I continue to live by the olden ways. And since my copy of THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY is so heavy, old and delicate - just like me! - I picked out a paperback of some old King Arthur stories for when I need something (physically) lighter. And I was reading this one story where something happens to this knight's horse so he has to ride in a cart for a little ways, and everybody goes crazy about it! The author explains that carts, in the time of which he is writing, were meant only for toting criminals. But I guess that part didn't sink in for me, and I have to say everybody really overreacts. Like, this one guy yells at him, "A man who has ridden in a cart should never enter here. And may God never reward you for it!" Ha ha ha! I don't know why that makes me laugh. Later the knight who rode in the cart defeats another knight in battle and he's just about to cut off that other knight's head but says he'll let him go instead if the defeated knight agrees to... RIDE IN A CART. And the defeated knight says, "May it never please God that I ride in a cart!" He'd rather have his head cut off. Anyway, they really hated carts.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

A Blockhead

Still reading THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY. I've read 50 more pages since last we spoke and we're still in the introduction. He keeps calling people "dizzards"! So even though the meaning is obvious, I decided that this was a good chance to break out my giant old WEBSTER'S NEW TWENTIETH CENTURY DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, UNABRIDGED, SECOND EDITION from 1974. And the WEBSTER'S NEW TWENTIETH CENTURY DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, UNABRIDGED, SECOND EDITION from 1974 has a simple, two-word definition of dizzard: "a blockhead." I love you, WEBSTER'S NEW TWENTIETH CENTURY DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, UNABRIDGED, SECOND EDITION from 1974!

Friday, June 26, 2015

Dystopian Insomnia Trousers

Couldn't sleep so I got up and watched a Charlton Heston dystopian future movie and I was like, "Wow, he made a lot of these! Well, three. But three is a lot. Isn't it? Maybe not." And then, because it was TCM, there was an interstitial piece in which Anthony Hopkins reflected on his brief acquaintance with Katharine Hepburn. He mentioned that she was known for wearing "trousers" and I thought, "Are trousers just pants? Aren't they? Or is there a subtle distinction? Are there some pants that don't qualify as trousers?" And then I thought, "Trousers." I thought maybe I should use that word more often, like, once, even. I thought, "That's a good word. Trousers." Or maybe it just sounds good when Anthony Hopkins says it. Trousers. I couldn't sleep. Trousers.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Catamount Update

"You know, there's a college football team named the Catamounts. Western Carolina University," writes McNeil. McNeil would have us believe there's a WESTERN Carolina! I hastily misread that as "West Virginia," so when I first searched for an image, I discovered that there is a catamount team in West Virginia as well, and this catamount isn't trying so hard to be "cool":
And finally, below we find the Western Carolina mascot at what a press release refers to as his "birthday party," which was attended by some other mascots ("some of his closest mascot friends" says the press release). One of these mascots is named "Ted E. Tourist." He represents a team called the Tourists! Which seems like a bad name for a team. But what bothers me most of all is this bobcat's weird - which is to say, normal - hands (also, is he wearing RINGS on his middle fingers?):

Infectious!

Last night Dr. Theresa had a tune stuck in her head. She was like, "What is this? It's going to drive me crazy. Doodle dit dit dit dit dit dit doodle doodle doo doo doo." So I was like, "It sounds familiar, do it again." And she was like, "Doodle dit dit dit dit dit dit doodle doodle doo doo doo." And then I started humming along with her and we were both standing in the hallway going, "Doodle dit dit dit dit dit dit doodle doodle doo doo doo." And it was just on the threshold of my waking brain. So I was like, "Is there another part to it?" And Dr. Theresa was like, "Yeah! Dit dit DOO! Dit dit DOO!" And it came to me! "It's the theme song to the Jerry Lewis movie WAY... WAY OUT!" I yelled triumphantly. "You've infected me," muttered Dr. Theresa.