What You Are Probably Asking Yourself

You are probably asking yourself, "Where do I go for funny or interesting pictures now that Jack Pendarvis has stopped adding new pictures to his 'blog' and is illustrating all his 'posts' with completely random pictures he has used before?" I am glad you asked! The "web" site of Michael Kupperman (who, as you will recall, wrote TALES DESIGNED TO THRIZZLE, VOL. 1, the funniest book ever made) assails and delights you with amusing pictures galore. Many of them feature monkeys! Some others have robots. Go there now and never come back.

A Frolicsome Romp!

By the way, everyone is still keeping strangely mum about when my overdue book - the text of which is just languishing at the printer - is going to be printed. Ordinarily, that would depress me. But my brand new gimmick of adding completely random illustrations to each and every "post" transforms even the most frustrating news into a frolicsome romp!

1,000 Pictures Are Worth a Word

Ha ha! Did you see how I took an old saying and turned it around there? What I am telling you is that my computer - which I trust with my life - informs me that the li'l cosmonaut handing out presents to a bear cub and a bunny rabbit is the 1,000th picture I have put on this "blog" - a subject about which I have decided to say "a word." Therein lies my delicious "pun." I don't think there is a reason to add any more pictures. It seems wasteful. From now on, I will use only pictures I have used before. Until I decide not to. The trouble is that I do not know how to catalog or label these pictures for easy access on my computer, so it will be hard to find a picture that properly matches the entry in question. Well, so be it! Randomly chosen pictures may add a fresh air of youthful experimentation to my otherwise fusty ruminations. For instance, now I will find a random old picture with which to illustrate this "post." I'm already tired of this idea.

Colorful Pillows of Bob

I was over at the Ajax Diner for lunch, sitting up at the counter and reading BURY ME DEEP by Megan Abbott. Then when I got home, there was a package from Megan on the porch. And inside the package: an actual, 100% authentic lobby card for CRITIC'S CHOICE, a Bob Hope vehicle from his "questionable period." Not since Barry B. gave me those LPs by Jerry Lewis has there been such a gift. Bob is lying on a green couch in front of a red curtain, and tossed blithely all about him have been pillows of lavender and gold and red and blue. He is balancing an empty liquor bottle on his forehead and an empty glass on his chest. He is wearing a tuxedo without the jacket. I can't find a picture of this magnificent lobby card on the "internet" so here is a picture that popped up for no apparent reason while I was searching for it.

Revenge of Tree Dog

McNeil is enraged that NPR did not talk about Sammy Petrillo today. Facebook friend Scott P. (not Petrillo!) points out that Gary Lewis was quoted in the Times obituary. Rhea provides a picture of Yggy, the tree dog who thinks he's a man. Sarah Marine lives in Oklahoma now, where many versions of the boll weevil song say the boll weevil ended up. "Click" here for her Oklahoma "blog." Phil says somebody is showing SHIP OF MONSTERS in a film festival. The "blog" was there first! And as far as mascots go, "Blog" Buddy Pamela would like us to consider the Geoduck of Evergreen State, where the fight song goes in part, "Siphon high, squirt it out, swivel all about, let it all hang out." None of these things are connected.

Weevils 'n' Dogs

Yesterday's multi-"post" reflection on mascots, culminating in the introduction of Yggy the Tree, has inspired a flood of missives. Well, two. "Blog" Deputy Rhea says a friend of hers has a dog named Yggdrasil, Yggy for short. "He's big like a tree and thinks he's a human," she writes. Rhea included a picture but I couldn't see it or open it or whatever you call it. You know how computers are! They're crazy! Meanwhile, the enigmatic Sarah Marine sent a "link" to a commercial (for a search engine, I think) which incidentally claimed that the boll weevil who represents the University of Arkansas at Monticello is the "dumbest mascot." I will take this opportunity to defend the boll weevil! In the old folk song, he (or she, but a he in the versions I have heard) is a model of perseverance and a symbol of oppressed peoples who refuse to be broken or defeated by the harshest treatment. "The farmer took the boll weevil/ And threw him in the red hot sand/ The weevil said, 'It's mighty hot/ But I'm going to take it like a man,'" and so on. I may also mention that a town in my home state of Alabama has a statue dedicated to the boll weevil, because it forced people to rotate their crops, or something. I can't remember the story. Let's say that an unexpected consequence of the weevil infestation was to save the family farm, I guess. I'll find a "link" and we can all refresh our memories.

Petrillo

Got up this morning to see an email from McNeil with the screaming subject line, "Petrillo dies!" I opened the email and the message within said, "Petrillo dies!" So I looked on the New York Times "web" site and sure enough there was the obituary for Jerry Lewis impersonator Sammy Petrillo, mentioned on the "blog" just earlier this week.

Meet Yggy!

It took the "internet" about two seconds to tell me the mighty tree I had in mind was called Yggdrasil. Now to find a guy in a tree costume. We'll call him Yggy and he'll go around informing people about Nordic mythology at sporting events. PS to "Bloggy" the "Blog" Mascot: Don't feel threatened! Yggy will never take your place.

Some Great Tree

Just today I found out about two things I never knew existed, the Mascot Hall of Fame and the Society for Sports Uniform Research, and it's all because McNeil innocently commented that a mosquito is a terrible mascot. Oh, "internet"! You remind me of some great tree I read about in Nordic mythology but I can't say why because the details are fuzzy in my mind.

Lives of the Mascots

As I dug deeper into the Greensboro mascot situation [WHY??? - ed.] I noticed that the team was hyping an appearance by something called "Reggy the Purple Party Dude." Naturally, I became alarmed for the safety of the current grasshopper mascot, given the apparent fickleness on display and the propensity of Greensboro mascots to mysteriously disappear. But it turns out that Reggy is not a replacement. He was just making a guest appearance. I guess Reggy is sort of a wandering mascot. I imagine him like David Carradine in KUNG FU or Bill Bixby in THE INCREDIBLE HULK, moving from town to town helping beleaguered citizens and solving crimes. Reggy, it turns out, is "the official spokes character of the Mascot Hall of Fame," the "web" site of which refers to him as "one of the only talking mascots that we know of. This ability" (they go on) "brings some responsibility to share with the world the value of mascots in our lives!" (Exclamation point theirs.) PS: I loved the original caption of this photo, which read in part, "Reggy the Purple Party Dude and his 8-foot monkey were special guests at Tuesday night's Southern Illinois Miners game. The pair are from New England."

Who Will Speak for the Mascots?

So how did the Greensboro Bats become the Grasshoppers? I found an article to answer your question. Oh, "internet," there is so much on you! There's this, for example: "Moore and his staff started with a list of 28 names several months ago. The suggestions ranged from Dingers, Dirtbags and Bricklayers to Tree Frogs and Pinesaps." But they finally decided on the grasshopper as a mascot because, among other reasons, "The grasshopper is a creature that, when picked up, spits a liquid most people call tobacco juice." Read the entire article here, on the "web" site for the Society for Sports Uniforms Research. But won't you WON'T read here is whatever happened to Gigi Grasshopper (pictured) who disappeared in 2008, after a mascot refurbishment, along with a sidekick named Timmy the Turtle. A press release I found states that "Gigi, who unfortunately is allergic to dogs, moved to Grasshoppers Island in Australia and became a local tour guide. Timmy decided to stay local and will be working with students around the Triad as a staff member of the Bryan Family YMCA." I smell a rat. Or a rat mascot. In any case, I'm not sure the story holds up. A grasshopper who's allergic to dogs? So she moves to Australia? What, there are no dogs in Australia? And where exactly is Grasshoppers Island? There's a suspiciously large mascot turnover in Greensboro, that's all I'm saying. What are the authorities hiding? The mascots aren't talking. Because they can't.

Nominally a Grasshopper

I set the "blog" interns to figuring out the relationship between the bat mascot and the mosquito mascot of the Greensboro team (my theory being that the bat chased around the mosquito in a pantomime hearkening back to the commedia dell'arte, because bats eat mosquitos, right?) and they came back with the startling news that the bat and mosquito were retired in 2005, since which time the Greensboro mascot has been the furry green monster - nominally a grasshopper - seen here.

Moving Mr. McNeil

In his review of recent "posts," Mr. McNeil was also moved to note that "a mosquito is a terrible mascot. It's not going to make you want to go to a baseball game." As can be seen here, the real team mascot is, in fact, a bat who works for an insurance company. The mosquito seems to be involved, too, but in what capacity I cannot say.

Essence of McNeil

"It suggests that man's essence resides in his brain," McNeil observed of the comic book cover on which a mad scientist is switching Captain Comet's personality with that of a gorilla. I believe I heard him cluck with disapproval. He also let me know that the woman is carrying a big sign through the airport that says "Colon HEALTH" - not "Colon HELP" as previously and erroneously reported here at the "blog." "Though 'Colon Help' is better," McNeil generously concluded. Finally, I did "blog" yesterday, but the results were unsatisfactory. I deleted them. I guess you can say I was merely "blogging" to "blog." The erstwhile "post," however, did boast a fine picture of a plastic unicorn which I include here for your consideration.

I Let a Mosquito in the House

I let a mosquito in the house. I have made a few ineffective smacks at it. It follows me from room to room, enjoying my blood. It's pretty energetic and has a lot of gumption and I think it's really going to make something of itself. I'm starting to wonder about the life span of a mosquito, which is something I could look up on the "internet" if I felt like it. I'm going to guess 30 years. And now it's on the "internet" as a reference! When you kids are writing your college papers, be sure to include the fact that a mosquito's life span is 30 years. And put this "web" address in your footnote.

Help

McNeil called and said, "I want one of those jobs where you walk through the airport with a big sign on your luggage that says 'Colon Help.'" I told McNeil that I was unaware of such a job. McNeil replied that there's a commercial in which a woman walks through the airport with a big sign on her luggage that says "Colon Help." People stop her and ask her about Colon Help and she tells them about Colon Help. I told McNeil I would watch out for the commercial. I did not do a "Google Image Search" for this "post."

Go Hector!

Apparently I have never mentioned this on the "blog," but Theresa and I watch TOP CHEF all the time. Tonight, as the new season began, we were stunned and thrilled to recognize an old friend: Hector Santiago, the chef and owner of Pura Vida, a restaurant that was RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET from our apartment in Atlanta. When Pura Vida opened, we were among the very first customers. Before anyone else knew about it, we would go in and sit at the bar and Hector would tell us about all the different dishes and their relationship to his youth in Puerto Rico. I remember a goat stew that was something like his mother made. As a matter of fact, and by coincidence, his mofongo just ended up in a new piece of fiction I was working on last week. So we are rooting for you, Hector! I hope you remember us.

Literary Matters

I hate to tell you this, but it is time for more "Literary Matters." There are only three, so hold your nose and try to read them all at once. It hurts less that way. 1) I see that is has been officially announced that I am to have a monthly column in THE BELIEVER magazine. I can't believe it! Someone has made a huge mistake. Even more exciting is the fact that Megan Abbott also has an article in the issue containing my debut. 2) I was over at Square Books getting coffee a few days ago, and they had a poster in the window with a quotation from Ernest Hemingway: "All you have to do is write one true sentence." And I was like, "Wow! Really? That's all?" So I went home and wrote one true sentence - it took me about five seconds - but nothing has happened yet so I'm not sure what he's talking about. 3) Jamie Kornegay, one of the owners of Turnrow Books in Greenwood, MS (which makes this a literary matter), told me a story about a monkey biting Jerry Lewis. So I started looking for a picture of Jerry Lewis and a monkey to top the other pictures of Jerry Lewis and a monkey I have shown you in the past (not to be confused with the picture of Lewis impersonator Sammy Petrillo and a monkey). But eventually I got bored and deleted the uncompleted "post." Sometimes I question my existence! This comic book cover (above) kept popping up as I did my "research," though as you can see it is Captain Comet (which also makes this a literary matter) and a gorilla, not Jerry Lewis and a monkey. Thank you. These have been your literary matters for today. PS: I know that all the monkeys in the Jerry pictures are actually chimpanzees and that chimpanzees are not monkeys and for the last time I don't care.

All Your Happiness Has Been Cancelled

Hey, instead of having a reading at Square Books on September 2, I will not be having a reading at Square Books on September 2. Try to hold up under the crushing disappointment! My book - the actual text - is finished and ready to go. From what I understand, there is a delay with the printing. One day the book will be printed, from what I understand. For now there is a cover, which is the most important thing. Here it is.

Could Come In Handy

... so if David Strathairn is ever giving me his contact information and I'm writing it down on a napkin and he goes, "That's S-T-...," I'll be able to stop him with a casual wave of the hand and say, "That's okay, David Strathairn, I've got it!"