Twisted Dharma Stories

Stopped by Square Books yesterday and picked up a Penguin paperback called BUDDHIST MEDITATION: CLASSIC TEACHINGS FROM TIBET. If it's any of your business! This collection starts with a few old poems, and the second poem in the whole book introduces an image that readers of the "blog" are sure to go into a tizzy over, for reasons of which I need not remind my initiates: "Old Owl sits on the rock and hoots." Next comes a question to which I could only answer yes: "Do you sit upon your rock,/Spouting twisted dharma stories to others?" Speaking of which, I had lots of thoughts about those WORLD'S FINEST COMICS starring Batman and Superman that Tom Franklin brought me in the hospital. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to express them anywhere, except in texts to Tom, but the combination of being sickly and quitting social media is a potent one! Plus, discovering the owl in yet another book opened the door to a legitimate "blog" "post" and now my fingers may type as much as they like and no one can stop them! These comic books are from back when I used to read comic books, and Batman isn't cool and edgy, as I suppose he is now. Like, Superman will say (I paraphrase), "All right, Batman, I'm going to go to outer space and do some important stuff. All you have to do is watch this one guy, and he's literally asleep, can you handle it?" And Batman goes, "Sure thing, Superman!" (Again, I paraphrase.) And in the VERY NEXT PANEL, someone is bashing Batman in the back of the head with a big stick. Down he goes, out for the count! He had one job, as the hilarious meme from years gone by would have it. I have always pictured Batman as being very alert. On the anecdotal evidence of the two issues of WORLD'S FINEST that Tom brought me, I can also say that Batman and Superman are surprisingly testy with one another, bickering and petty, like some old couples. Often, they keep their bitter feelings deep down inside, and express them only in thought bubbles. Here I will cease paraphrasing and give you a couple of direct quotations. "WHERE IN BLAZES IS SUPERMAN? WE WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET HERE BY THIS OLD SUGAR MILL BY NOON!" Batman sulks with a petulant look on his face. From a separate story: "BLAST! IT'S ALL BATMAN'S FAULT... IT WAS HIS TIP I ACTED ON. SOME DETECTIVE!" Superman silently rages. "AND WHERE IS HE?" he adds, exposing the odd Beckett-adjacent sub-theme of these comics, which is that Batman and Superman wait around for each other a lot, demi-gods paralyzed to helplessness by a perceived dependency that perhaps does not exist. In the same story, Superman is so over Batman's crap that he demolishes an office desk with his fist in frustration, although it is not adequately explained why Superman is sitting behind an office desk like a chump. In conclusion, Dr. Theresa reports that there is a rabbit in the backyard RIGHT NOW. And it's Easter!

Without Elaboration

We went to the drugstore. I've been sick! Anyway, this drugstore packs a lot of novelties onto its shelves, such as (seen above) a lantern in the shape of an owl. I was like, "Hey, Dr. Theresa, get this for me as a treat, because I've been sick!" (I had conveniently left my wallet at home.) Then I turned over the lantern in my supple hands and read the sticker on the bottom, which said "MADE IN CHINA" and (without elaboration) "Cancer and Reproductive Harm." So we didn't buy the lantern.

Unattributed Owl

I was convalescing this weekend in a MAGIC MOUNTAIN style medical facility when Tom Franklin dropped by with an armload of old comic books to help me pass the miserable hours. Now, one of these comics was a Gold Key publication about a superhero called THE OWL, and he seemed vaguely familiar. Soon enough, I remembered that I had run across a panel or two of the Owl subduing his foes with the use of his gun that shoots out rainbows. I had no context, and I passed it along to you without context, you're welcome. Somehow it never occurred to me - until now! - that a comic book called THE OWL should go on my long list of books with owls in them. After all, I have included other comic books on the list... off the top of my head, THE DEMON by Jack Kirby, DAREDEVIL, and Grant Morrison's THE INVISIBLES. Not trying very hard, I couldn't find details of authorship in my copy of THE OWL, save for a splash page signed by "Siegel & Gill." And you know what? That's all the effort I'm going to put into it. Old me would have scoured the "internet" for more information. But in case you can't tell, I've been sick. Get off my back! I will tell you that the Owl has a robot owl named Owlo. That seems important. In fact, he has an endless supply of robot owls named Owlo, in case something happens to one of them. During Tom's visit, we discussed many things, such as whether Deadman, a ghost superhero who shoves his soul into the bodies of other people, could inhabit Superman, who is, after all, not human, but some kind of freaky alien. Then Tom brought up the obscure cowboy superhero Vigilante... yes, I believe "superhero" is an accurate term. Vigilante (pictured above) doesn't have otherworldly powers, but neither does Batman. Case closed. Anyhow, imagine my delight when, after Tom had left, I found this on the cover of a WORLD'S FINEST comic: "VIGILANTE ROUTS THE 'REFORMED OWL-HOOT CLUB.'" Please note, that's owl-hoot, not hoot-owl, as I originally misread it. The story itself begins with this narration: "DYED-IN-THE-WOOL WESTERNERS WILL TELL YOU 'ONCE AN OWLHOOT, ALWAYS AN OWLHOOT!'" That's right, the cover used a hyphen but the actual comic did not. All this, perhaps, sheds some light on a phrase from TRUE GRIT that I seemingly found mysterious ("click" here for details. You usually ignore such exhortations, but I've been sick!). In conclusion, it seems that I have never mentioned on the "blog" - though it hardly seems possible (that I haven't mentioned it, I mean) - that I had a letter to the editor published in WORLD'S FINEST COMICS when I was a kid. It was a pretty sarcastic letter.

Throwing Pennies at Jerry

Remember when I quit social media? It was in all the papers. So, for example, now, when I turn on TCM just as CITIZEN KANE is beginning, and notice for the first time in my life that two little monkeys appear within the first minute of that film, I can't just "tweet" at Laura Lippman about it, as part of a pointless gag that goes back at least as far as 2008. No, I have to sit down and compose a thoughtful email about the two little monkeys in CITIZEN KANE. Such is my lot in life, due to my own choices! Similarly, I have just had word from Brian Z., a person I formerly knew only from those electronic and ethereal environs - and, in fact, whom I still know only from electronic and ethereal environs, assuming that's what email is. Brian Z. emails to say that he recently saw "a very rare old Technicolor print" of THE NUTTY PROFESSOR in Chicago. Before the screening, someone involved with the Film Society stood up and read a vintage magazine report of Jerry's activities during the original promotional tour for the film. In one incident thus recounted, and paraphrased here by Brian Z., "Jerry is out in public and some kids throw pennies at him. He stops what he's doing to investigate the source of the pennies and gives the boys a dressing-down after taking the time to locate them." An attentive "blog" reader cannot help but be reminded, I am sure, of the time Frank Sinatra was pelted with raw eggs. What a world! Brian Z. was concerned that I had, perhaps, lost interest in Jerry Lewis, not having "blogged" about him since April of 2023. Let me assure one and all that nothing could be further from the truth! I thank Brian Z. for a timely reminder not to take Jerry for granted. As the Bible says (I Thessalonians 5:22), "Abstain from all appearance of evil." Related (?): Brian Z. makes note of "a couple of laughter-signaling guys in my row who were braying a little too forcefully to be credible." The same "blog" reader who thought of Frank Sinatra being pelted by eggs may now be reminded of what once happened to me during a Samuel Beckett play. As I remarked in my email reply to Brian Z., it is one more way in which Samuel Beckett and Jerry Lewis are just alike. (See also, Kierkegaard's thoughts on farce.) Supplementary reading: "Click" here for details of another museum-grade Jerry screening.

New Pinnacles of Disengagement

I am sure I do not have to remind you how I cared deeply about the Oscars from approximately age 10 to age 50, followed by a steep decline lasting a decade or so. In fact, a couple of years ago, I stopped watching the show altogether, as your research into my personal habits has no doubt affirmed already. Moreover, I did not even know that this year's Oscars were happening until 8:30 PM Central Time on the night before the ceremony. Nevertheless, my sister and I (she has precociously developed a similar disinclination to engage with awards season) cannot get out of the habit of trying to beat one another soundly when it comes to guessing the winners. It gives me no pleasure to say that I trounced her for the first time in many years, my victory leaving an ashy, bitter taste of irony in my mouth, given that neither of us cares anymore. About anything!

That Upon Which I Was Sitting

I was sitting on something for secret reasons that no longer require sitting. Forget about those reasons, for they are defunct. The important thing is that I fished out my COMPLETE ILLUSTRATED WORKS OF LEWIS CARROLL some months ago... it is still over there, in my home office, sitting forlorn atop a box of Daily Racing Forms from 1956 (long story, or maybe no story); I need to reshelve it. But that is not what I came here to tell you! Those months ago, when I fished it out for my secret reasons, I opened ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND with fateful randomness to a passage I had somehow never noticed before, in which we are informed via poem that "the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie." If you do not understand why I am telling you this, I advise you to spend the next several years studying this "blog."

The Official Record

Well, McNeil has combed through his journals and I find myself compelled to issue a clarification on earlier "blog" matters. As I am sure you will recall with crystal-clear accuracy, and without even needing to "click" on this "link," McNeil claimed that I had boasted to him that I had met Phyllis Diller. I denied it, as I never met Phyllis Diller. McNeil said that in that case I had been lying to him, and vowed to scour his archives for proof. I scoffed at such an attempt. And yet, in a way, I was wrong. And yet, in another way, I was right. In McNeil's journal entry of November 6, 1998, he writes, "Talked to Jack this afternoon and learned that he is going to meet Phyllis Diller next week." First, please note that the meeting is to take place in the future, as far as November 6, 1998 is concerned. And it really was supposed to happen, though I had forgotten about it until McNeil's recent communication. My friend Ward McCarthy and I were making a thing called "The Movie Lounge," and we had asked Phyllis Diller to comment on the Chuck Norris film INVASION USA, in which she sort of appears in a particular capacity ("click" here for more details. I know you won't!). At the remove of all these years, it is easy for me to imagine why she or her representatives abruptly pulled out of the scheduled appearance. Let me say, however, that although I once told McNeil that I was "going to meet" Phyllis Diller, as was supposed to be the case, I never told him that I had "met" Phyllis Diller - an event, I reiterate, that sadly did not occur after all. I cannot recall whom we got to talk about INVASION USA in Ms. Diller's stead. That is a question for Movie Lounge host Kent Osborne. In the sort of coincidence that McNeil and I both enjoy - and I hope it will bring him succor as this incident draws to its belated close - Ace Atkins and I had a talk about INVASION USA on our most recent walk around the neighborhood, which my diary reminds me took place on Monday, February 26 of this year.