pi.z.z.a

One this page which bears the legend "Mind blown," there is a comment that is even more mind-blowing to me than the image up top:

While we're at it, the volume of a pizza of radius z and thickness a = pi.z.z.a

Astounding, really.

Original link via Graham Linehan.

We Had All the Good Signs

Satire from bystanders may cut both ways, but satire and humor from participants can be simultaneously funny and apt.

From Wisconsin:

Photo by Dave Weigel

Oddly enough, the sentiment in the placard may be in response to some "pox on both houses" satire by Jon Stewart in recent days.

There is quite a lot of funny stuff from Wisconsin, intentionally and otherwise.

I noticed that the uprising in Egypt was full of comic protest, too. Anna Louie Sussman writes about humor in the Egyptian revolution for the Atlantic, including this little jibe travelling in email:

Dear Egyptian demonstrators,

Please do not damage the pyramids. We will not rebuild.

-The Jews

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The title of this post is a variant of a line from Tom Lehrer's song "The Folk Song Army."

Just a Second -- Tickle in my Throat

As previously investigated here, bygone times are full of hilarity -- if one didn't have to live through them. For instance, we've previously spotlighted Habitina, a concoction sold to help drug fiends kick the habit by ingesting a blend of morphine, heroin, and alcohol. I fear it didn't work as advertised.


There is little doubt, however, that The Allenbury's Throat Pastilles (tin pictured above), did indeed provide relief for sore or scratchy throats. The blend of diamorphine (another name for heroin) and cocaine would certainly combat throat discomfort.

I found it via the enjoyable twitter feed @VictorianLondon, curated by Lee Jackson. In recent days he's been on a tear with countless riddles and jokes from Victorian sources, such as:

"Why should a teetotaller not have a wife? Because he cannot sup-porter." joke, 1900

Which reminds me of one of my favorite jokes, as written by Samuel Beckett in one of his novels:

Why did the barmaid champagne?
Because the stout porter bitter.

Lee Jackson has been kind enough to set up the Random Victorian Joke Page. It's worth a page refresh or two.

Pyrite

Jerks worthy to pester, those cash for gold scammers.

Cumberbatch as Rickman

Benedict Cumberbatch performs Candle In the Wind in the style of Alan Rickman.

Happy New Year, 2011!

Unrelated

There goes a man who’s won his spurs in battle
The butcher, he. And all the others, cattle.
The cocky sod! No decent place lets him in.
Who does him down, that’s done the lot? The women.
Want it or not, he can’t ignore that call.
Sexual obsession has him ini t s thrall.
He doesn’t read the Bible. He sniggers at the law
Sets out to be an utter egoist
And knows a woman’s skirts are what he must resist
So when a woman calls he locks his door
So far, so good, but what’s the future brewing?
As soon as night falls he’ll be up and doing.
Thus many a man watched men die in confusion:
A mighty genius, stuck on prostitution!
The watchers claimed their urges were exhausted
But when they died who paid the funeral? Whores did.
Want it or not, they can’t ignore that call.
Sexual obsession has them in its thrall.
Some fall back on the Bible. Some stick to the law
Some turn to Christ and some turn anarchist.
At lunch you pick the best wine on the list
Then meditate till half-past four.
At tea: what high ideals you are pursuing!
Then soon as night falls you’ll be up and doing.

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Related to nothing except I heard something about Brecht today and it reminded me of this fabulous song he wrote with Weill for the Threepenny Opera. And Ute Lemper is wonderful.

Regular service will return at some point.

Send In the Clowns

Placard from the Sane or Not?
offshoot of the Sanity/Fear Rally.

I keep reading "serious" writers penning mainly humorless thumbsuckers complaining about the performance (The Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear) by Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert scheduled for this weekend. Most such complaints seem to boil down to the following sentiment: "If I could put together such a thing, it would include a Will Rogers and would be way more awesome than these Colbert/Stewart events. "

To which I have two responses: 1) No, it wouldn't. and 2) "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke."

As showbiz, I guess the Rally will be entertaining in bits amid the filler. But I don't expect it to be a truly political event so I won't judge it that way. It would necessarily disappoint.

In September the Financial Times invited several satirists to write on the theme "Has political satire gone too far?" The only piece that stuck with me was by Jonathan Coe, whose novel What a Carve Up! (released in America as The Winshaw Legacy: or What a Carve Up! ) is a spectacular work of literary satire. He wrote, in part:

As the years go by, in any case, I become less and less convinced that satire is good for democracy. When I wrote What a Carve Up! in the early 1990s as a response to the Thatcher years, Yes Minister was a huge source of inspiration. It still impresses me that a show could be so thoroughly cynical and yet so full of warm, loveable characters: an amazing trick to pull off.

However, far from tearing down the established order, most satire (except in a few very great, very extreme cases – Swift’s A Modest Proposal being the obvious example), does the exact opposite. It creates a welcoming space in which like-minded people can gather together and share in comfortable hilarity. The anger, the feelings of injustice they might have been suffering beforehand are gathered together, compressed and transformed into bursts of laughter, and after discharging them they feel content and satisfied. An impulse that might have translated into action is, therefore, rendered neutral and harmless. I remember a recent edition of Radio 4’s News Quiz where the comedian Jeremy Hardy brought this up: after cracking a series of (brilliant) jokes about failed bankers collecting enormous bonuses, he suddenly said, “Why are we laughing about this? We should be taking to the streets.” He was right.

True, I think. But I recall that for many months the Bush administration was not taken seriously to task for anything by the mass media -- except on the Daily Show and Colbert. There were marches and other "action," and they didn't do much, in part because the media lowballed them. I'm sure the largest anti-war events before the Iraq war were larger than the biggest tea party rallies, and yet they got far less purchase. There was little questioning in mainstream media of the grounds for the Iraq war until years after the deed was done.

In such a routinized media culture sometimes it's either satire or nothing. I'll choose quality satire.

With Great Pleasure ...

I was notified just now that Ed Reardon was featured on BBC Radio 4 last week. An Audience with Ed Reardon is available for replay for a few more days.

I'm not sure how those unfamiliar with Ed will respond but as someone long fond of Reardon I recommend a listen. It's well crafted as a recorded live show, distinct from the sitcom itself but based on it.

[Updated with full text of letter, below.]

RL Stevenson scratched it in ink on paper in 1888 in a letter, presumably not for publication.

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IN MEMORY OF ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, 1850-1894, son and student of Edinburgh.

"and when I remembered all that I hoped and feared as I pickled about Rutherford's in the rain and the east wind; how I feared I should make a mere shipwreck, and yet timidly hoped not; how I feared I should never have a friend far less a wife, and yet passionately hoped I might; how I hoped (if I did not take to drink) I should possibly write one little book. And then now -- what a change! I feel somehow as if I should like the incident set upon a brass plate at the corner of that dreary thoroughfare, for all students to read, poor devils, when their hearts are down."

from the South Seas, September 1888
Presented on behalf of all Stevenson lovers ........ September 1995

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John Finnemore took a picture of the bronze in 2010 and wrote about it: "It made me both smile and admire everyone involved - the person who wrote it, and the people who did what they did when they read it."

That understates it nicely. It's a wonderful thing all 'round.

Here is the letter in full:

To Charles Baxter
7 a.m. 6 September 1888
with a dreadful pen
Yacht Casco, at sea, near the Paumotos

Mv dear Charles, Last night as I lay under my blanket in the cockpit, courting sleep, I had a comic seizure. There was nothing visible but the southern stars, and the steersman there out by the binnacle lamp; we were all looking forward to a most deplorable landfall on the morrow, praying God we should fetch a tuft of palms which are to indicate the Dangerous Archipelago; the night was as warm as milk; and all of a sudden. I had a vision of — Drummond Street. It came on me like a flash of lightning; I simply returned thither, and into the past. And when I remembered all that I hoped and feared as I pickled about Rutherford's* in the rain and the east wind; how I feared I should make a mere shipwreck, and yet timidly hoped not; how I feared I should never have a friend far less a wife, and yet passionately hoped I might; how I hoped (if I did not take to drink) I should possibly write one little book etc., etc. And then, now — what a change! I feel somehow as if I should like the incident set upon a brass plate at the corner of that dreary thoroughfare, for all students to read, poor devils, when their hearts are down. And I felt I must write one word to you. Excuse me if I write little: when I am at sea, it gives me a headache; when I am in port, I have my diary crying, 'Give, give." I shall have a fine book of travels, I feel sure; and will tell you more of the South Seas after very few months than any other writer, has done — except Herman Melville perhaps, who is a howling cheese. Good luck to you, God bless you. Your affectionate friend R.L.S.

Love to Henley and Simpson and Bob. if you see him.

The editor says that the reference to Herman Melville as a "howling cheese" is a compliment. How things change.

* "Rutherford's" refers to the pub in Drummond Street known as "The Pump," frequented by Edinburgh students.

The Count of Pennsylvania

Michael Penn.



Sounds like the coming fortnight to me.

Rebranding Riffle

We at Riffle are considering a relaunch. Logo redesign (actually, merely design) by Crap Logo.
Crap Logo is recommended: It's free, and it's crap.

Albert Brooks Minus One

Music Minus One has been around for decades as an aid to music practice. A sound recording is provided of accompaniment, without the solo, for the student to play the lead part along with.

Front cover.

Rear cover, originally with mirrorized insert.

Before Albert Brooks was a movie maker, he was a legendary comedian. In 1973, Brooks adapted the "play along at home" theme with the final track from his LP Comedy Minus One. That recording is long out of print. Below is the title track: Comedy Minus One.

Someone kindly typed up the script that was included in the original LP. Follow along here to perform with Albert Brooks.

Discover Simple, Private Sharing at Drop.io

comedy-minus-one-mp3

Four Minutes, Thirty-three Seconds: John Cage

NOTICE This video contains an audio track that has not been authorized by WMG. The audio has been disabled.

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Perfect.

Not All Awful Books ...

The website Awful Library Books points us to just what the title indicates. For example:


Rules to Be Cool from 2001, which I'm sure resulted in dozens of cool-rule-obeying youngsters.

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The Central Youth Employment Executive of Her Majesty's Stationery Office presents The Mastic Asphalt Spreader, with a deliciously attractive cover.

A Good Family Crest

Le Febve de Vivy

Crest of the Le Febve de Vivy family, about which I know little other than they are Swiss and Belgian and like cute cartoonish birdies.

Mesmerist and Handwriting Teacher

[Post updated-- scroll down for more info.]

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This is a scan of an 1844 printed poster advertising a performance by a traveling mesmerist. I found it recently clearing out some old work and sadly I can't conjure the mesmerist's name for certain. I believe it was Charles Webster, an itinerant showman. If I recall correctly, at various times he taught handwriting, too.

It's a lovely old advertising print, I think. Click the image to enlarge and see it more clearly.
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Update: With the help of a friend, we've recalled the name of the mesmerist: Jonathan Palmer Webster, aka J Palmer Webster.

Webster was from a farming family in New Hampshire. He set up a penmanship school called Webster's Academy of Penmanship and Stylographical Card Drawing. A relative gave him funds for medical school, which he attended in New York until the money ran out.

He also called himself an "Itinerant professor of phrenology," and wrote a book about that science.

In the early 1840s, stage mesmerism was a popular entertainment. P.T. Barnum and other impresarios presented regular exhibitions.

Webster began performing stage mesmerism, particularly in Virginia, the Carolinas and New Orleans, where this print is from. In towns where he exhibited he also offered mesmerism classes at as much as $50 a pop -- a hefty charge in those days. Sometimes a clairvoyant named Frederick would perform with him.

For stage hypnotists of the era, clairvoyants would be put into a trance state and see things at a distance or in the future. Sometimes they would act as healers by "seeing" into the bodies of audience members and identifying diseased organs.

In 1849 Webster migrated from New Orleans to San Francisco (Gold Rush, perhaps?). There he apparently worked as a physician despite not having completed his education. After that I know nothing of J. Palmer Webster, a very minor figure who left behind some great handbills and posters.

Titus, it's your anniversary!

Titus Oates, with a name that sounds like a country singer's, was a scoundrel. He fabricated the Popish Plot -- which led to the execution of over fifteen innocent men and which exacerbated an anti-Catholic mood into a frenzy -- and committed sundry bad deeds that were more prosaic.

His punishments include something I was unfamiliar with:

He [James II] had Oates retried and sentenced for perjury to annual pillory, loss of clerical dress, and imprisonment for life. Oates was taken out of his cell wearing a hat with the text "Titus Oates, convicted upon full evidence of two horrid perjuries" and put into the pillory at the gate of Westminster Hall (now New Palace Yard) where passers-by pelted him with eggs. The next day he was pilloried in London and a third day was stripped, tied to a cart, and whipped from Aldgate to Newgate

That was probably too good for him considering the standards of the day. But yearly pillory was something I hadn't considered before.

It is nearly the anniversary of his birth (15 September 1649). I'm curious as to what was the day (or days, or week, or month) for his annual pillory. Would have made for a whale of a birthday celebration if they combined them.

Oates went from penury to having Whitehall apartments and allowances, to various punishments, to a small royal allowance, then a suspension of that allowance, then a bigger royal allowance of £ 300. Ultimately, I understand, he died.

Happy Titus Oates day!

It's the time for scoundrels to whip a froth into a frenzy, human suffering be damned.

Simulating the Turnip Harvest for Fun

Turnip Strength Tester, a Soviet arcade game where one attempts to pull a stand-in for a turnip from a stand-in for the ground. Available for play at the Museum of Soviet Video Games.

This is not a jape.

That museum is infinitely cheerier than the North Korean Arcade, which hasn't even a mangelwurzel, real or fake.

Old Quips

While going through the belongings in an old house, I found a small booklet of fragile yellowed paper.

Wehman Bros' Vaudeville Gags and Jokes, published by Wehman Bros, 126 Park Row in 1916.

Maybe I'll scan part of it sometime. Many of the individual bits have been clipped out so the book in some parts looks like a collection of ribbons with jokes on them.

The material is scatter-shot (perhaps all the best gags were snipped decades ago). Most of the jokes rely heavily on puns, some simple:

- What did the vegetarian say when called upon to offer grace?
- He said: "Lettuce pray."

And some spectacularly labored and askew:

Billy and Geraldine sat on the porch.
Billy said: "I like your company Gerry."
Gurgled Geraldine: "Me, too."
Whereupon Billy became a holding company and drew up his articles of incorporation so close that Geraldine went into the hands of a receiver.

Here are a few more.

I've gone into a new business: making artificial limbs.
That so? How is it?
Oh, rushing. I put on two new hands yesterday.

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I think my client will lose his case.
Have you exhausted all the means at you disposal?
No, but I've exhausted all the means at his disposal.

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- My father has a new kind of typewriter -- he fills it with ink.
- My father has the kind you fill with wine.

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I have a horse and taught him to talk.
I never knew a horse could talk.
The only thing is you can't hear him very well.
Why?
Because he talks horse.

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My flight is boarding, so I'll leave it at that. Maybe I'll return to this book soon.

Happy gags to all.

One of the excellent images from a fine collection of New York photos from the seventies and eighties.

Found thanks to Roy Edroso, who wrote an elegiac post recalling his life during those times.