There really was no limit on how goofy you could make your 90s music video. I wish I had a band back then so I could make a video with animatronic oysters and a dog barking the song chorus.
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Daily Archives: April 12, 2011
10 posts
This odd improvisational experiment began as a dialogue in the comments between me and Mothergooch, and has grown into… something else. After you read the beginnings of our improvisational romance novel, feel free to add your own input to the story in the comments. Don’t worry about consistency, just try to stay true to who you perceive the characters to be. We’ll see where — and in how many different directions — it winds up, but this is how it began:
Mothergooch: Sinner or saint, we can never be sure which Salome we are going to get.
Salome Valentine: This sounds like the opening to a deliciously trashy romance novel.
MG: His body was hard — not hard like Milosevic, the Serbian strongman, but hard like the marble on your shower floor, when you fall and bang your knee.
SV: His member was hard: not hard like marble, but hard like he’d taken a fistful of blue pills roughly four hours earlier.
MG: He tore open her blouse like a Publisher’s Clearing House letter in which he and some guy named Steven Bouber from Stockton, California, were potential finalists for the ten-million-dollar prize.
SV: She felt no self-consciousness when he tore open her blouse, because her plastic surgeon had assured her that the implants she recently purchased could withstand a direct fall onto a marble floor, or the hardness of a Serbian strongman.
MG: He awakened her slumbering womanhood with his double tall loin latte. “Starbuck!” she cried.
SV: “No, my name is Santiago,” he replied in an irresistible and nearly incomprehensible accent as he moved her to operatic ululations with his manly thrusts.
MG: Claire felt swept away by this dark stranger, a helpless dust bunny in the roaring cacophony of his gas-powered leaf blower.
SV: Internal explosions like really bad gas – but far more pleasurable – coursed through her body as Santiago played her body like a master playing a cheap violin.
JohnDoeche: Sated like pensioners at a cheap Chinese buffet, they lay and stared into each others’ eyes wondering who would go to the bathroom first.
ChipsRafferty: As Santiago took the cigarette from his lips, its glow was reflected in his gold teeth making him look like an Inca deity.
MG: He gently doubled her entendre like a powerful and mildly awkward simile.
CR: Claire moved closer but Santiago moved away. She slid in closer still, only to find he was just giving up the wet spot.
CR: As they drifted off to a sated slumber, Santiago heard Claire whisper in her last semi-waking moment. It was the name of a long lost lover, or perhaps the man who drove her to despair. It sounded like…. El Goooche. Santiago turned over, disappointed, and ever so gently farted, while thinking, “Man, I gotta lighten up on the Mexican caviar.”
Alluson: Claire, uncomfortable by the growing dampness against her hip, started awake as she imagined the distinct aroma of dead fish eggs. She stared at the soft outline of Santiago’s hairy moob and began to ponder if she had in fact made a grave mistake.
SV: Santiago’s moob was, in fact, a carefully sculpted pectoral muscle, but Claire was too inebriated from orgasms to recognize this fact. Eventually, he knew that she would succumb to his charms, stay with him even without the restraints, and allow him to make sweet love to her again, once the effects of the chloroform wore off.
Bravo, Harry Reid!
Sure, the Senate Majority Leader was obviously enjoying milking the Shutdown Showdown for all it was worth. But he did such a good job. He denounced the Republican leadership, saying this wasn’t about spending. Such a dry, boring issue, unfortunately, for the American voter.
This was about cancer! This was about women! This was about his granddaughters, for Chrissake, and he was angry, personally offended, and appalled that Speaker John Boehner wanted all the women in his life to die of breast and cervical cancers, even though we can all be certain the women in Harry Reid’s life don’t have to rely on free clinics for medical care.
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
Reid was not attempting to persuade the conservative voters he was right. Reid was attempting to lure the swing moderates for 2012 into his corner. At the same time, he appeased hardcore Democrats by — finally — showing some fight.
By the way, did you notice Boenher’s pink tie choices? He loves women! Pink ties!
–Newsbunny has been an alleged journalist for twenty years, largely focusing on political news
Happy National Library Week, y’all!
I am this close to being a degreed librarian and I’d be remiss to not highlight the damn excellent work done by libraries and librarians all over the world. And so a series on digital collections is in order, don’t you think? Digital collections offer a way to share rare knowledge and primary resources to anybody with Internet access. What used to only be available to scholars who could get to the physical space is now freely accessible on the Web. It is, when done correctly and ethically, a beautiful democracy of information. Unfortunately for my lazy ass, there are so many fantastic digital library collections available on the Web that it’s hard to know where to start. Instead of focusing on one or two collections this week, I’ve chosen for our inaugural digital collections post to highlight a few great things from several collections that are related in theme and based on this week in history. (Though don’t depend on me to stick to this format ‘cuz I do what I want.)
This week’s theme is fallen leaders. On April 11, 1814, Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled to Elba–his second-to-last exile; how many people can you say that about? And on April 14, 1865, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated by a mentally unstable actor (is there any other kind?). Let’s start with the great bearded one, shall we?
Abraham Lincoln’s Assassination
It’s hard not to get excited by the assassination of one of our greatest presidents, especially one surrounded by whispers of homosexuality and such fantastic facial hair. Alas! The Library of Congress (which is, contrary to common “knowledge,” not the national library of the United States) has several digital collections dedicated to our great emancipator.
Here we have a photograph taken on April 27, 1865 of Abraham Lincoln’s railroad funeral car. I implore you to go to the website and look at the full-size pdf. It’s quite beautiful.
The Railroad car photo is just a small part of a large and interactive collection available on the Library of Congress’ website that follows the journey of this train car from Washington, D.C. to Springfield, Lincoln’s hometown. You can check it in flash or HTML, which, if I may go on a bit of a tangent, is part of librarianship’s devotion to access. Not everyone has high-speed Internet, you snob.
Next we have a short video that showcases what Lincoln was carrying in his pockets on the night of his assassination. Kind of spooky, when you think about it. If I were assassinated, people would find Burt’s Bees lip balm and extra bobby pins in my pockets. So very memorable, hmm?
Finally, we have a hand-written draft of Frederick Douglass’ eulogy for Abraham Lincoln. He writes, “Abraham Lincoln, while unsurpassed in his devotion to the welfare of the white race, was also in a sense hitherto without example, emphatically, the black mans President: the first to show any respect to their rights as men.” Frederick Douglass: Master of the Backhanded Eulogy Compliment.
There are a wealth of digital collections and individual digital artifacts to be found on this specific topic (including the weird photo “Dramatization of Pursuit of John Wilkes Booth and His Conspirators“–the precursor to 48 Hours?), and of broader concern to Abraham Lincoln, but who has time for that? LC’s Civil War and Reconstruction page is a good place to start if you’re interested in some more sexy Abe resources.
Napoleon’s Exile to Elba
Brown University has a fantastic collection of Napoleonic satire. I mean, look at this one of Napoleon and president Madison looking angrily at one another while sitting on their “pots” (*giggle*):
I’m also fond of Départ pour L’Isle D’Elbe and An Imperial Vomit. Please be sure when you click through to read the full descriptions that if you don’t view the images in full size and zoom in, you’re a damn fool. Be sure of that.
We have the e-book Napoleon: King of Elba translated from Paul Gruyer’s French (thanks, Hathi Trust), Horace Vernet’s The Departure of Napoleon for Elba painted in 1831 (made available by VADS), and a drawing of a foot soldier of Napoleon’s army in full dress uniform (courtesy of Claremont Colleges).
There are, of course, library collections that are sad-making, like McGill University’s Napoleon Collection. A pretty site that boasts the collection’s thousands of materials is surprisingly difficult to navigate. I did a basic, unrestricted search of “Elba” and came up with nothing. But when I went through the subject headings, I was able to come up with several resources with this heading (like this one, with the hilarious frontispiece). Weird, right? I shake my fist that their Technical Services Department.
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If you have any ideas, suggestions, questions, or topic requests about future posts in my library series, feel free to email me at cntinglinguist [at] gmail [dot] com. It is my not-so-humble opinion that everyone should have a librarian in their life.
Header image source: Brown University Library
In just over a week, a group of professional and citizen journalists collaborated via Twitter to source, edit and publish a book of first-person accounts of the March 11th earthquake and tsunami in Japan. The goal: to sell the book and donate all monies to the Japanese Red Cross earthquake and tsunami relief efforts.
A former British journalist residing in Japan who blogs under the pseudonym Our Man in Abiko (check it out – he’s a very funny fellow) wanted to do something for the hundreds of thousands of people that have been affected by this event, from those directly in the earthquake zone, the path of the tsunami, in the evacuation area around the nuclear power plant in Fukushima, to those in many other areas of Japan, whose lives have been disrupted by rolling power blackouts, poor road conditions, food and water supply difficulties, and more. Our Man thought up 2:46: Aftershocks: Stories from the Japan Earthquake, and spread word on Twitter via the hashtag #quakebook. He gathered stories from around the country about people’s experiences of people in the thick of the disaster and its aftermath.
Contributions to the book—essays, artwork and photographs—poured in from writers, artists, and photographers all over Japan, as well as elsewhere in Asia and North America and Europe. In addition to narratives by the journalists and people who braved the disaster, the book contains writing created specifically for 2:46 by authors William Gibson, Barry Eisler, Jake Adelstein and artist/musician Yoko Ono.
“The primary goal,” Our Man in Abiko says, “is to raise awareness, and in doing so raise money to donate to the Japanese Red Cross Society to help the thousands of homeless, hungry and cold survivors of the earthquake and tsunami.” The collection reflects the fear and confusion caused by Japan’s unprecedented disaster. “But #quakebook isn’t all gloom and doom. By the time you finish reading it, you’ll have a sense of hope, and even optimism.”
2:46 is now available as a Kindle ebook here. (The Kindle app is free for use on your computer,
Please support the Japan Red Cross and buy a copy today. For updates and press coverage of the book, please visit the Quakebook blog, the official Twitter account, or join the Facebook group.
Wow, that was some week off, huh? I got so much done while The Amazing Race wasn’t on! I…I did nothing, really. Read the internets, drank some wine, GTL without the G or the T, battened down the hatches for the government shut-down that wasn’t. You know, regular stuff. But you know who were super busy? The seven teams racing for a million bucks.
Father/Daughter left the pit stop first at 1:18 p.m. and headed to the airport where they were to catch a flight for Varanasi, the religious part of India. Their next clue would be at a Tonga stand. What is a Tonga? The Google tells me it is a covered carriage. That sounds not very amazing and not very religious. But to the Tongas we go!
The Cowboys left a few minutes after Father/Daughter, with Old Yeller, the Nerds, the “Couple” and the Sisters all within spitting distance. The only team trailing was the Globetrotters, who left the pit stop a full five hours after the rest of the teams.
Father/Daughter, Old Yeller, the Nerds, the Sisters and the “Couple” got tickets for a 10:45 a.m. flight to Varanasi. But for some reason, the ticket agent gave the Cowboys tickets for a flight that left a full hour afterwards. Maybe they would be on a later flight with the Globetrotters? No! The Globetrotters, who arrived at the airport hours later, got tickets for the 10:45 a.m. flight! So all teams were on the earlier flight except for the Cowboys! That is a huge mistake. The poor Cowboys were wandering around the airport wondering where everybody else was, and you could see that sick-to-your-stomach-and-not-in-an-I-just-ate-some-bad-vindaloo-way look creep up on them when they realized that there was an earlier flight.
When the teams arrived at their destination, they hopped into cabs and headed for the Tonga stand. This was unremarkable except for Kynt inexplicably hitting his head on the trunk of the car, which triggered the “Couple’s” need to berate their cab driver. As a TAR expert, I can say that one thing rings true no matter what country you are in–it is never a good racing strategy to piss off your cab driver.
The Nerds’ cab stopped for gas, Old Yeller’s cab was redirected by police officers over some bridge, and the Globetrotters passed the Sisters and Father/Daughter. Sometimes it’s all about what cab driver you have and, note to the “Couple,” how nice you are to them.
Despite their sunny lousy attitude, the “Couple” reached the clue box first. Roadblock! One member of each team had to search for the meaning of life. Pfft! I could’ve skipped that task and gone straight to the pit stop. The meaning of life is shopping for shoes without having to flip them upside down to look at the price first. You got that, ladies? For the rest of you who doubt my deep insight, the teams were provided with a photo of six religious figures (lasidus? I couldn’t make out the name, if anyone knows what this is, please enlighten us in the comments) for reference. The teams had to find the holy person, who would give them a word. If the words are arranged properly, the teams will learn the meaning of life.
The Globetrotters reached the clue box next, followed by the Sisters, Father/Daughter, Old Yeller and the Nerds. At this point in the race, I was really worried about the Cowboys. An hour is easy to make up on travel (hello airport equalizers!) but tough to make up on tasks.
Big Easy tried to work with Jen, but then she ditched him. Kynt cut some sort of a deal with Gary which is strange because Gary is generally very careful at these types of tasks and should not need Kynt’s help. Kynt was basically just following Gary, and then there were two cows licking each other which was either sweet, or a metaphor for the race.
Ron was doing terribly. Like really and truly awful. Maybe he was looking for somewhere to stop for a snack? I don’t know, but he was headed in entirely the wrong direction.
The Sisters finished first and learned that the meaning of life is: Shoe Shopping Without Regard For Prices. Oh my gosh! I was right! I’m kidding. The real meaning of life is: Once You’re Over The Hill You Pick Up Speed. I suppose that’s a little more profound, but how are you supposed to get over that hill without stylish footwear? Hmm? Exactly.
Flight Time and Justin teamed up together and finished the task next. The teams were then sent to the Swaminath Akhara Wrestling Club where they were supposed to find a strong man who would give them their next clue.
Some time after the Sisters, the Globetrotters and the Nerds left, the Cowboys arrived at the task. This made Old Yeller, Father/Daughter and the “Couple” nervous because the Cowboys make notoriously quick work of tasks. Jet (or Cord, I haven’t quite figured out which is which) said, “How fast you run is how fast you’re going to get through the road block,” but you have to look around and not miss anything. So true, so true. The Cowboys blazed through the task while Ron was still wandering around India in the wrong direction. The “Couple” and Father/Daughter finished the task next, which left Old Yeller and the Cowboys out on the course.
The Nerds and the Globetrotters found the strong man and the clue box at about the same time. Detour! The teams had a choice between Feed the Fire and Feed the Buffalo. In Feed the Fire, the teams had to travel down the Ganges River and follow a path to the home of milkman, make fifty poop patties, place them on a wall to dry in the sun, and light a fire to boil milk. This does not sound like a very good task since it involves manure. In Feed the Buffalo, teams had to cross the Ganges River, pick up hay, cross again and carry the hay through narrow streets to the correct milk farm. Since this task does not involve manure, it is the task I would have chosen.
Because great minds think alike, the Nerds and the Globetrotters chose to feed the buffalo. The Sisters, on the other hand, chose to feed the fire.
Back at the Roadblock, the Cowboys finished the task before Old Yeller! Yeehaw! Old Yeller was sort of freaking out and backtracking, thinking the holy men may not have been properly garbed as in their photos beacused they wanted to take a refreshing swim in the Ganges River. What? No, no, no Old Yeller, they did not take a break from their TAR obligations to take a refreshing swim in the Ganges River! Holy hell. Eventually Old Yeller got back on track and finished the task, though he looked ready to collapse.
Meanwhile, back at the front of the pack, the Nerds and the Globetrotters worked together to find the correct address for their hay delivery while the Sisters arrived at the Dung Palace. They were literally vomiting before one poop patty was even made. Ladies, you made the wrooooong choice. The “Couple” also chose to feed the fire, just like the fire in their bedroom. Ugh now I’m vomiting. Father/Daugher then joined in the fun at the Dung Palace.
The Globetrotters and the Nerds were singing “Running with haaay, in the middle of India!” as they delivered their bales of hay. How can you not root for these guys? They received a clue which directed them to the pit stop at Ramnagar Fort across the Ganges River. Is crossing the Ganges River the only thing anyone ever does in India? In a foot race between the Nerds and the Globetrotters, it’s best to put your money on the professional athletes. The Globetrotters were first to the mat and are Team Number One, followed by the Nerds as Team Number Two. For coming in first, the Globetrotters won a trip to the Big Island of Hawaii. A big island for some big guys!
The Cowboys chose to feed the buffalo and were chuckling that they went all the way to India to haul hay. Old Yeller also chose to feed the buffalo. Like the Nerds and the Globetrotters in a foot race, if I had to put my money on who was going to haul hay faster, I’d go with the Cowboys.
Over at Dung Palace, the Sisters were struggling. A mean old lady knocked some of their poop patties off of the wall because they were too big. Eventually they made their poops exactly the right size and were headed to the pit stop. The “Couple” finished the poop task next, then Father/Daughter.
For some reason, the “Couple” decided to take a boat to the pit stop. But when they pulled away from the dock, Vyxsin did something really weird, even for her. She jumped out of the water taxi into the Ganges River! Just jumped right out, like she was compelled to do it by an evil spirt. She grabbed the boat and hauled it back to the dock and they took off on foot for the pit stop. And then Kynt said something, just a little something, and my skin crawled. He said, “You need to get a grip, sis.” Are they brother and sister? Eew. The possibilities are just eew.
The Cowboys made hay of Old Yeller and finished the task in no time at all. The Sisters checked in at the pit stop, then Father/Daughter, and then the Cowboys who are back in this race. Finally, the “Couple” checked in, which meant Old Yeller were the last team to arrive. They have been eliminated from the race. I’m…kind of happy about this. I’m sick of watching Ron bumble around the world, snapping at Christina and snacking on local delicacies at the most inopportune times. They weren’t going to win, so it’s good that Phil put them out of their misery. And it was misery for poor Christina. Yes, she said that she cherished the moments she got to spend with her father, but I could sense seething contempt just below the surface. Good luck with your marriage to that other guy from TAR, Christina. I hope the two of you are very happy together and move far, far away from your dear old dad.
Next week: The six remaining teams head to Austria, where it looks like they compete in a food challenge that Mallory isn’t enjoying, and the “Couple” are again fighting over directions.
Hello Crasstalk! As is pretty obvious to everyone, we have grown a lot over the last few months. This means we have more commenters and more writers than ever before. This also means that the people who work to bring you the site have had a lot on their hands. To remedy this we have recruited a little help to keep things running smoothly and to improve the articles we publish here. So please give a warm welcome to the new members of the team.
New Editors
The first change is that we have added a few new editors to help posts get through the publication process and make sure they are as good as they can be. These folks will edit your posts just like Dogs, Bots, and I have and please treat them with the same respect you show us. If they ask you to make changes or fix something, please do it. They have all been picked because we are confident in their abilities and you should be as well. The new editors are:
New Commenter Mods
You might have also noticed that two people now have blue boxes around their names. These are the new commenter mods. Please feel free to direct questions to them, and please point newcomers their way so that we can make them feel welcome. Again, please treat them with the same respect you do the other mods.
Please give big welcome and thank you to these folks for helping us all out. Their assistance will be a key factor in our winning of The Internet.
Before there was Charlie Sheen, there was Crispin Glover… Continue reading
Aw, memories. Mine get hazier by the day due to age and certain “lifestyle” choices I have made over the years. I used to be cool (I think) and I used to listen to good music before my responsibilities got in the way. However, my sweet neighbor kid is in high school and he always enthusiastically shares what he is listening to with me. He is crazy for Jay Z. Crazy on the way that only a teenager can be for music. Before pretension, before bitterness, and before life attaches too many memories to your music.
I love it when I hear him singing this in the hallway:
So Crasstalk, what was your favorite band or artist in high school. Who spoke to your little rocker?
Here’s mine, hands down.
All right, you know what to do.
Memories fade, minds decay, and still we go on with the recording of history. We don’t remember much though. Hell, we forget more about ourselves as we grow old than we do the facts that we’re taught, that we learn and absorb. The episodic memory is faulty because it causes us to add and remove details as we see fit, but what is deemed important enough for history is written down so that we will never forget, even if we almost always forget. Will we know who, say, Madonna is in a hundred years? It’s possible, but we know we can’t name a singer from 1911, nor do we really care. Cher, of course, will be remembered forever because she will never die. We believe she’s strong enough.
From WCRS in Detroit, it’s Life, Death and Violence brought to you by coffee. Coffee, it’s damn good! Join us and Life, Death and Violence Crush Object™ Janice Fronimakis as we delve into Wikipedia and discover the people that we’ve forgotten about. It’s your day in the sun, April 12.
LIFE!
(You think someone’s going to care about you when you’re dead? Ha!)
1705: William Cookworthy: Cookworthy? Not according to his wife! He did, however, kill scurvy by telling those saucy seamen to make sure to eat their fruits! The seamen, naturally, misinterpreted his dietary suggestion and continued to succumb to the disease until sometime later. Always carry Trojans and a bottle of orange juice, boys!- He also discovered kaolinite in Cornwall and figured out how to turn it into porcelain, thus allowing the English to make fine bone china. Bilking the Chinese out of their profits? How dare you Cookworthy! In this case, Bill’s surname is apt as he did know how to operate a kiln.
- Wikipedia has a whole section dedicated to Cookworthy’s friends. His dinner party guests included James Cook (couldn’t even scramble an egg), John Jervis (there’s no pun here), Doctor Solander (who?) and Joe Banks who is a god in our book for giving us mimosa. Oh wait, upon further review, he found the plant, not the drink. There’s a mimosa plant? Wow, we guess you really do learn something new every day. Maybe the seamen Cookworthy advised invented the mimosa. Hell, maybe that explains all the orange juice. Prevent scurvy! Go to brunch!
1705: William Cookworthy: Cookworthy? Not according to his wife! He did, however, kill scurvy by telling those saucy seamen to make sure to eat their fruits! The seamen, naturally, misinterpreted his dietary suggestion and continued to succumb to the disease until sometime later. Always carry Trojans and a bottle of orange juice, boys!
- You snooze, you lose! English bone china? More like English bone China! Hey-Oh!
DEATH!
(In memoriam: Forever or for thirty days, whichever comes first)
- 1684: Nicolò Amati: Amati made violins, but no one can name a single luthier (that’s violin-maker) other than Antoni Stradivari, so, better luck next time Nick! Still, Nick’s violins are generally agreed to be the best in his family, at least for modern violinists and who can afford a Stradivarius anyways? Those things cost more than a one bedroom apartment in Chelsea. We’d rather have the apartment and use the savings on an Amati if we played violin. However, we don’t. We started taking lessons briefly after hearing Neon Bible but we didn’t really take it seriously and quit after a month or so.
- But wait, there’s more! It seems that Antoni Stradivari was an apprentice of Nick Amati! This isn’t confirmed, but it’s on one of the guy’s violins, so it might be true. He at least liked Nick’s fiddles. Nick Amati: Historical footnote, overshadowed by a student. Isn’t that what we all worry about?
- He also taught Andrea Guarneri, but, once again, we must ask, does anyone outside the music world know these names other than Stradivarius? Maybe that’s the key to history. No one is really forgotten, just by those outside their field.
Amati made violins, but no one can name a single luthier (that’s violin-maker) other than Antoni Stradivari, so, better luck next time Nick! Still, Nick’s violins are generally agreed to be the best in his family, at least for modern violinists and who can afford a Stradivarius anyways? Those things cost more than a one bedroom apartment in Chelsea. We’d rather have the apartment and use the savings on an Amati if we played violin. However, we don’t. We started taking lessons briefly after hearing Neon Bible but we didn’t really take it seriously and quit after a month or so.Aw shucks, now we’re starting to get it and so is Janice, who’s so excited about unraveling the threads of time that he’s hopped on a horse and is preparing for war!
- Giddyup!
VIOLENCE!
(The blood no one remembers)
- 238: The Battle of Carthage: Led by the father/son empiric duo of Gordian the First and Gordian the Second, the Romans fell to the Numidians (modern-day Libya). Gordian the Second was killed in battle, and upon hearing the news, Gordian the First, who was 80 at the time, killed himself.
- Interestingly enough, the Gordians were only emperor for twenty days and presided over Rome in what is now termed “The Year of Six Emperors” so don’t feel bad about losing that battle Gordie Sr. and Gordie Jr. Everyone had a bad year. At least the Roman Senate made you gods!
- Seriously though, even though the blood was shed in vain since we no longer remember you, take solace in the fact that the modern world has exalted another Gordie to the pedestal of divinity. Gordie “Mr. Everything” Howe. Go Wings!
238: The Battle of Carthage: Led by the father/son empiric duo of Gordian the First and Gordian the Second, the Romans fell to the Numidians (modern-day Libya). Gordian the Second was killed in battle, and upon hearing the news, Gordian the First, who was 80 at the time, killed himself.
- That battle, man. I’m exhausted.
OTHER NEAT STUFF THAT HAPPENED!
(This stuff’s notable)
After that battle, Janice is tired of talking about things that no one remembers anymore. Frankly, we’re tired of it too, so we thought we’d let you guys know that:
- In 1606 the Union Jack became the official flag of Great Britain.
- Unfortunately, that didn’t help Galileo. Italy’s formal inquest into his heretical science stuff began in 1633. Oh, the Inquisition!
- In 1861, the Confederacy fired on Fort Sumter, sparking the Civil War.
- And in 1917, Canada took some German land during World War One. Wait, Canada has an army?
- 1955: The polio vaccine is certified safe!
- Too bad it came too late for FDR who died exactly ten years earlier in 1945.
- 1961: Bang! Zoom! Straight to the moon! Or, well, at least to orbit as Yuri Gagarin becomes the first man in space. No one will ever remember a single other Russian cosmonaut.
- 1992: EURODISNEY!
- Bill Clinton is cited for contempt of court for not knowing what the meaning of ‘is’ is in 1999
- And last, but not least, Zimbabwe abandoned their money in 2009! It’s not like it was worth anything anyways. We’re quattuordecillionaires by their standards.
That’s all folks! Until next time: Don’t worry, you’ll forget everything bad in twenty years! Drink up. We’re going to go take a nap outside with Janice now. Bye!
