2010

You are currently browsing the yearly archive for 2010.

Not Rosie O'Donnell.

Despite being a big baseball fan, I had never until recently heard the name Dorothy Jane Mills. Mills, along with her late husband, Dr. Harold Seymour, are two of the key figures in the study of the game’s history. The pair wrote a trio of the most important baseball books ever published, which helped nurture generations of researchers and statisticians.

For decades, Mills got the short shrift and her husband got all the credit because he was too sexist to let her have a co-writer’s byline and Mills, the ever-dutiful wife who was raised in an era when women didn’t make waves, only recently asserted her place in the writing and research process.

In a March article in the New York Times, Alan Schwarz profiled the woman that history almost forgot. An excerpt:

“Dorothy Zander grew up in Cleveland during the 1930s and ’40s wanting to become a writer, and while an English major at Fenn College–now Cleveland State University–worked for The Cleveland News as a copy boy. (‘Not a copy girl, a copy boy,’ she repeated curtly.) She volunteered to help her American history professor, Harold Seymour, type his lectures; she found they needed more than typing, and told him so.

They fell in love and married, and she became his primary research assistant for his Cornell doctoral dissertation on baseball history — reading through old newspapers at The Sporting News offices in St. Louis and scrolling through microfilm at the New York Public Library.

She cared nothing for baseball, only the scholarship–and the growing stature of her husband, 17 years her senior.

‘He loved baseball,’ Mills recalled in a telephone interview. ‘He was a bat boy for the Brooklyn Dodgers in the late 1920s and he was the star of the neighborhood.

‘I’m still not a fan of baseball. People can’t understand that. I think it’s a good idea to remain above that. You write a lot more objectively about a subject you’re not in love with.’”

Tags: , ,

 

Giant Pacman: Looks like the bastard love child of the Kool-Aid Picher and Jocelyn Wildenstein.

In the annals of online time wasters, the Pacman variation game PacXon ranks high. It’s the most-played selection in the history of the Addicting Games arcade category. As with most successful time wasters, the game’s premise is invitingly simple: You have to use your Pacman-ish creature to chew up 80% of the game board’s segments. You can win bonus lives by reaching certain scores and you lose lives by making contact with the ghosts. The number of ghosts you must avoid increases with each new grid you encounter. At any rate, these will be moments of your life you will never get back. Enjoy your wasted time.

One really long scarf for four people. Seems impractical.

Got my gnarled, ink-stained hands on a copy of Beatles Film Festival, a pretty flimsy 1978 magazine about the celluloid side of the Fab Four. It’s basically a bunch of photos, some lyrics and a few old interview comments. But there is one brief article of interest about the Magical Mystery Tour.

The Beatles didn’t make a lot of creative missteps, but the Magical Mystery Tour film is like the most boring, most annoying drug experience ever. It was supposed to be a loosely constructed series of road trip scenes alternating with videos of the group performing songs. It instead made the quartet seem like they were out of touch and lost in their own excesses. The inane attempt at avant garde style was universally panned when originally shown on the BBC.

Even in 1978, McCartney was rationalizing this disaster in a really self-delusional way. An excerpt from the magazine article titled “Paul McCartney Talks About Magical Mystery Tour”:

In 1978, Paul McCartney thought "Magical Mystery Tour" would be beloved in the future, but it still sucks.

“The Mystery show was conceived way back in Los Angeles. On the plane, you know, they give you those big menus and I had a pen and everything and started drawing on this menu and I had this idea. In England they have these things called ‘mystery tours.’ And you go on them and you pay so much and you don’t know where you’re going. So the idea was to have this little thing advertised in shop windows somewhere called Magical Mystery Tours. Someone goes in and buys a ticket and rather than being the kind of normal publicity hype…well, it was magical, really…the idea of the show was that it was actually a magical run…a magical trip.

I did a few little sketches myself and everyone also thought up a couple of things. John thought of a little thing and George thought of a scene and we just got them all along with the coach, and we said, OK, act an off-the-cuff kind of thing.

At the time I thought: ‘Oh Blimey,’ but…eh…it started out to be one of those kinds of things like The Wild Ones, you know, Marlon Brando…at the time it couldn’t be released! The interest in it came later. The interest started to grow, you know. Magical Mystery Tour was a little bit like that…well, whatever happened to it…that’s a bit magical itself. Like the Stones’ Rock and Roll Circus. You know, what happened, to that, you know, I mean, I’d like to see that. So all these things work out well. You’ve got to be patient: everything like that works out well. I think it was a good show. It will have its day, you know.”

    Tags: ,

    Sarah Palin: "Unalienable" right to be loud and stupid. (Image by Tricia Ward.)

    Sarah Palin: You can just go to the early documents of our Founding Fathers and see how they crafted a Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. They knew our unalienable rights don’t come from man, they come from God.

    Decoder: Perhaps if I had actually read these documents, I would know that it’s “inalienable” rights.

    Sarah Palin: I think we should just kind of keep this clean, keep it simple. It’s pretty simple.

    Decoder: I’m pretty simple.

    Sarah Palin: Go back to what our Founders and founding documents meant–they’re quite clear we would create law based on the God of the bible and the Ten Commandments.

    Decoder: God must have thought that slavery should be legal and women shouldn’t have the vote. Or maybe those documents were drawn up not by God but by really smart but really fallible men.

    Sarah Palin: I have said all along that America is based on Judeo-Christian beliefs.

    Decoder: Certainly the Founding Fathers who had Judeo-Christian beliefs were informed by them, but they didn’t think this was a country specifically designed for people with any particular religious beliefs. And the Founders were pretty aware of the dangers of blurring the lines between church and state.

    Sarah Palin: It’s ironic that here on National Day of Prayer, there is so much controversy about whether or not we’re a nation built on Judeo-Christian beliefs and whether or not we can even talk about God in the public square.

    Deocder: I mostly use the public square to mock community organizers who try to help the poorest people and give them hope. Jesus would have crotch-punched these losers.

    Bill O'Reilly: Screamed God's name a lot during phone sex.

    Bill O’Reilly: On the National Day of Prayer, you can pray to a tree.

    Decoder: God is completely okay with my phone sex habit.

    Sarah Palin: Well that new kind of world view that I think is a kind of step toward the fundamental transformation in America that some want to see today it is an attempt to rewrite and revisit history.

    Decoder: Like when I tried to rewrite history and claim that I opposed the Bridge to Nowhere project in Alaska.

    Bill O’Reilly: America has transformed a great deal since 1776 and it’s a much more secular society.

    Decoder: That woman who sued me for sexual harrassment said that I bragged about owning a vibrator shaped like a cock.

    Sarah Palin: Margaret Thatcher and other foreign leaders think that America is so great and exceptional because we base our laws on God of the Bible, the Old and the New Testament.

    Decoder: If I had read the Declaration of Independence, I would know that America doesn’t have to try to impress the British. Also: Making laws based on the Bible would lead to huge amounts of bloodshed and suffering.

    Bill O’Reilly: We can only trust in God in our own homes, but we once we got outside, we can’t.

    Decoder:  I have a hands-free device so I can talk and masturbate at the same time.

    More Decoders:

    Tags: ,

    Adolf Lorenz was famous for his hip surgeries, but he also came up with a treatment for club feet.

    Viennese orthopedic surgeon Adolf Lorenz was a trailblazer when medical procedures in America were still often performed in the home of the patient. He sojourned to the U.S. in December of 1902 and traveled cross country to share his medical knowledge and perform a series of innovative hip surgeries on crippled children.

    In its December 14 issue, the Brooklyn Daily Eagle recorded Lorenz’s arrival in New York. (They spelled his first name “Adolph” instead of the proper “Adolf.”) The piece is subtitled: “Hundred of Local Physicians and Surgeons Seeking Opportunity to Study His Practice and Methods.” An excerpt:

    “Professor Adolph Lorenz,the celebrated Austrian surgeon, arrived yesterday afternoon in New York to begin his operations for congenital dislocations of the hip. He will operate free of charge on a number of young children that have been selected by local physicians as proper subjects for his charity and his treatment.

    Prof. Lorenz came in from Philadelphia at 7 o’clock. He was met in Jersey City by a large number of local surgeons, among them being Dr. Virgil P. Gibney, consulting surgeon for the New York Hospital for the Crippled and Ruptured. Dr. Gibney will have charge of the details of arrangements for Prof. Lorenz’s operations here.

    The famous surgeon went directly to the Holland House, where rooms had been engaged for him. He was seen there by newspaper men, but would not say anything further than that he would be busy until Monday getting ready for his operations. He went out with Dr. Gibney and others before 8 o’clock. Professor Lorenz will spend to-day making preparations for his work here. He will consult with other surgeons, and may examine the children who are to be operated on.”

    In “Lorenz Applauded By Noted Surgeons,” the Times followed up with an account of his first surgeries. It was quite a scene. An excerpt from that piece:

    “The little room in which was the operating table was wholly occupied by spectators. Applause followed applause as Dr. Lorenz demonstrated his method. The expressions on the faces of the watching surgeons showed that they were intensely interested, and they were the chief applause givers.

    It being Dr. Lorenz’s debut in New York, celebrated surgeons and physicians early gathered about the clinic of the hospital on Lexington Avenue. They were prominent, and were admitted to the operating room whether they had invitations or not. It was regarded as the most notable gathering of New York medical men, but they fought for admittance of the small amphitheatre like schoolboys would get into the circus.”

    More Old Print Articles:

    Tags:

    I'm not a douche. (Image by Mattes.)

    Do you own a monster costume? Have free time? Photo Shoot!

    Hey there,

    So, assuming you didn’t just click on this link for shits and giggles and you actually *have* a monster suit, consider the following: I’m an amateur photographer who loves shooting portraiture and city scapes. I’m looking to start a new photo series of someone in a monster suit doing normal things around the city. Possibly multiple people in monster suits. Aiming for an ultimate set of 24, and thus want to get shots all over the place (commuting, hot dog stand, shit faced on the LES on a Friday night wondering when it was that “that whole goddamned neighborhood became DISNEYLAND!!!”, shopping on Madison Ave., etc.)

    You get out of it :
    photos of yourself in a monster suit all over the city. Will be able to show to your grandchildern (“Yes! That was me! I had blue fur back then cause everyone thought it was hot.” “Grandpa!”) and / or print out and put up on your wall to impress fellow hipsters / bankers / rastas / Park Slope moms. Also: shit tons of fun. Drinking can be plausibly involved in this on a case by case basis.

    You are asked to:
    – have a full body, face-covering monster costume. More ridiculous and huge the better. Best is one without a recognizable face (think Cousin It from Addams Family).
    – have some free time and a flex schedule. We can do this whenever. Weekdays daytime might be ideal.
    – not be a douche (sorry, douches)

    That is all! Email me a pic / description of your monster suit and let’s get this shit started.

    More Craigslist ads:

    Rick Barry goes to the hoop for the Oakland Oaks. The Oaks lasted from 1967-1969.

    Recently got my broken, bony fingers on a rare copy of ABA Pictorial 1968-69, from the old American Basketball Association. The upper-right-hand corner is a little crooked, but who isn’t in this day and age? The league’s most famous player of that year, Rick Barry of the Oakland Oaks, graces the cover. The periodical cost one buck at the time.

    The booklet has some ads for sneakers that provided almost no support for ankles and arches. But it’s mostly filled with propaganda for the dirt-poor league, written by the ABA PR directors, who were trying to spread the gospel of high hopes for the Minnesota Pipers, New Orleans Buccaneers, Kentucky Colonels, etc. And the “ABA Outlook Extremely Bright” article leaves little room for argument against the league that would be defunct by 1976, with some of its teams folding into the NBA.

    "Pro-Keds--the only basketball shoes ever endorsed by the ABA."

    One interesting article written by announcer Terry Stembridge, titled “63 Feet To Spare,” recounts how Jerry Harkness of the Indiana Pacers sunk a buzzer beater from way downtown to defeat the Dallas Chaparrals. An excerpt:

    “I had already called it a Chaparral victory that night in Dallas, a heartbeat before Jerry Harkness scored the longest shot in the history of basketball to give Indiana a 119-118 victory. It turned out to be the most premature journalistic announcement since that Chicago headline in 1948 proclaimed, “Dewey Defeats Truman.”

    Since history never hands you the script for its most dramatic moments, no one in Memorial Auditorium thought there could be anything beyond what had just taken place for 47 minutes and 59 seconds between the Dallas Chaparrals and the Indiana Pacers. No one dreamed there could be another stroke of fortune beyond John Beasley’s field goal in the final two seconds to give Dallas a 118-116 lead and apparent victory.

    When I saw Beasley’s shot bury itself in the cords, I shouted over the deafening roar that Dallas had won. Even as I spoke, I saw the clock and Jerry Harkness. I was surprised to see that a second remained but I knew it would make no difference. I watched Harkness, barely in bounds, drawing back to throw the ball. And then, suddenly, the red, white and blue ball was gone on its 88-foot journey into history.”

    More Miscellaneous Media:

    Tags: , ,

    Afflictor: Helping seals sleep peacefully since 2009.

    Old Timey Lady: "Blow Me."

    What was going on inside of your average Hamtramck, Michigan, beauty salon in 1941? America had entered the war, but life was still pretty leisurely at Caroll’s Beauty Salon as women and their daughters got done up with the aid of heavy-duty machinery and steel curlers. The kid with the gigantic rollers on her tiny head probably experienced major neck problems later in life. Enjoy the three-and-a-half minute silent home movie.

    More Featured Videos:

    I'm back home with Mama! Now if we could only locate my missing testicles.

    Our long national nightmare is over: Peanut Butter, the Bronx Puggle who was stolen and sold for heroin, has been found. I swear I’m not making this shit up. The new post from Craigslist:

    Stolen Puggle Found! (Bronx)

    I’ve been posting here for a few weeks about PeanutButter, my puggle that my mom sold for heroin. After many days and nights of crying, our journey is finally over. PeanutButter has been recovered, and he’s back home safe and sound! Thank you to everyone who emailed me giving me their support and prayers! MANY Thanks to Pet P.I, they helped me recover him! I would be lost without them!”

    Ajeeb says, "Checkmate, bitch!"

    As hoaxes go, Ajeeb, an “automaton” expert at checkers and chess, was a ridiculously simple scam. Ajeeb was one of several alleged machines–the Turk and Mephisto were a couple of others–during the late 1800s and early 1900s that were supposedly capable of defeating humans at board games.

    Ajeeb, created in 1868 by cabinetmaker Charles Hooper, was not actually a machine at all. The elaborate-looking 10-foot-tall contraption attired in Turkish clothes hid inside of it a rotating collection of some of the best chess players in the world. Thousands came to see Ajeeb match moves with disbelieving opponents (including Houdini, Teddy Roosevelt and Sarah Berhnardt) on both sides of the Atlantic.

    There is intrigue surrounding Ajeeb that supposedly involved theft and murder and more. Eventually technology caught up to imagination and today computers need no help to defeat us.

    Tags: , , ,

    Richard Stallman, pioneer hacker, at the University of Calgary in 2009. (Image by D'Arcy Norman.)

    Wired has a great piece online in which journalist Steven Levy looks back on the flowering o the Information Age 25 years after the publication of his landmark book, Hackers: Heroes of the Computer Revolution.

    Back in the good old days hackers weren’t criminals stealing and spying; they were the nerdy genius programmers who remade the way we think, live and communicate. Levy looks back at the monsters of the industry who became household names–Gates, Wozniak, etc.–but also revisits some of those who never spent time hanging with Bono or dancing with the stars.

    One passage that’s particularly interesting focuses on legendary hacker Richard Stallman, a brilliant and belligerent soul who despises the commercialization of what the geeks brought to life. An excerpt about him from Levy’s Wired article:

    “I first met Richard Stallman, a denizen of MIT’s AI Lab, in 1983. Even then he was bemoaning the sad decline of hacker culture and felt that the commercialization of software was a crime. When I spoke to him that year, as the computer industry was soaring, he looked me in the eye and said, ‘I don’t believe that software can be owned.’ I called him ‘the last of the true hackers’ and assumed the world would soon squash him.

    Was I ever wrong. Stallman’s crusade for free software has continued to inform the ongoing struggles over intellectual property and won him a MacArthur Foundation ‘genius grant.’ He founded the Free Software Foundation and wrote the GNU operating system, which garnered widespread adoption after Linus Torvalds wrote Linux to run with it; the combination is used in millions of devices. More important, perhaps, is that Stallman provided the intellectual framework that led to the open source movement, a critical element of modern software and the Internet itself. If the software world had saints, Stallman would have been beatified long ago.

    Yet he is almost as famous for his unyielding personality. In 2002, Creative Commons evangelist Lawrence Lessig wrote, ‘I don’t know Stallman well. I know him well enough to know he is a hard man to like.’ (And that was in the preface to Stallman’s own book.) Time has not softened him. In our original interview, Stallman said, ‘I’m the last survivor of a dead culture. And I don’t really belong in the world anymore. And in some ways I feel I ought to be dead.’ Now, meeting over Chinese food, he reaffirms this. ‘I have certainly wished I had killed myself when I was born,’ he says. ‘In terms of effect on the world, it’s very good that I’ve lived. And so I guess, if I could go back in time and prevent my birth, I wouldn’t do it. But I sure wish I hadn’t had so much pain.'”

    Tags: ,

    "Old Hoss" Radbourn: "Like J. Santana, I once 'lost' my change up. Left it in a whore's rucksack. That was embarrassing."

    You don’t have to love baseball and post-Civil War American history to appreciate the greatness of the “Old Hoss” Radbourn Twitter account, but it helps.

    The real Charles Gardner “Old Hoss” Radbourn was a Rochester native and tough-as-nails professional baseball pitcher from 1881-1891, during the Deadball Era. He became famous for winning 59 games (or 60, depending on what stats you believe) in the 1884 season for the Boston Beaneaters. After his playing days were over, Radbourn became the proprietor of an Illinois pool hall and saloon. A book about his life–Fifty-Nine in ’84–has recently been published.

    Some unknown wit has set up a Twitter account as “Old Hoss” Radbourn and dispenses commentary on modern sports and culture through the purview of a 19th-century hardass. The results are pretty special. It’s been rumored that one of the guys responsible for the now-defunct Fire Joe Morgan site is behind the Old Hoss Twitter. I’m not sure who it is, but I’m glad it’s there. A few of the account’s tweets:

    • One of the advantages of playing armed: hooligans who ran on the field earned a lead bullet and a shallow grave.
    • I was never really the same after 1887, the year laudanum was declared a “performance enhancer.”
    Julia Ward Howe: “Thighs like spun cream.”
    • I liked “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” for my at-bat music. I was of course bedding its author, Julia Ward Howe. Thighs like spun cream.
    • This C. Crist reminds me of “Peaches” Delahunt, who was a white, landed slave-owner who claimed to be a Lincoln Republican. He was most tan.
    • The real reason people throw back home run balls: in my day a sniper would plug you if you didn’t. Balls were expensive; lives weren’t.
    • I once traveled to Rome to see Michelangelo’s Pietà. It was so lifelike and moving. It would make a better out fielder than C. Quentin.
    • Just watched “Bull Durham.” Of all the gifts Annie gave “Nuke,” Hoss suspects gonorrhea was the lad’s least favorite.
    • 1888. A crushingly disappointing year. Had to go on the DL with a case of the gout. I curse you, sweetbreads and other rich delicacies.
    • Tonight Hoss noticed greeting cards labeled “Easter, romantic.” Not sure that is what J. Christ had in mind when he vanquished death itself.

    Tags: ,

    This bizarre local commercial for Kelley Plastic Surgery of Newport Beach, California, is brought to you by the wonderfully deranged souls at I Love Local Commercials. I swear to you that it’s real and not a spoof. My favorite part is the woman who asserts that her recent opportunity to take a trip to Canada was in some way connected to her plastic surgery. The spot was created by the North Carolina-based comedy duo, Rhett & Link, who were also responsible for this great spot.

    Elisabeth Hasselbeck is your most brilliant idea, Barbara. She's like Debbie Matenopolous reborn as a belligerent milkmaid. (Photo by Christopher Peterson.)

    Elisabeth Hasselbeck: To her credit, [Erin Andrews] wore gorgeous, classic gowns on Dancing with the Stars. But for the past three weeks, she has been wearing like next to nothing.

    Decoder: And as someone who got famous for being the bikini girl on Survivor, I know what I’m talking about.

    Elisabeth Hasselbeck: As inexcusable as it was for that horrific guy to go in and try to peep on her in her hotel room, I mean, in some way if I’m him, I’m like, “Man! I just could’ve waited 12 weeks and seen this–a little bit less–without the prison time!”

    Decoder: That harlot hath inflamed the menfolk, and she must receive a torrent of stones upon her bosom.

    Elisabeth Hasselbeck: When we were talking about Erin, even though I must focus on the detestable criminal who’s behind bars and ended up making her life a living hell…

    Decoder: I must focus on that detestable criminal now that I’ve gotten into trouble for what I said. But that’s a shame because I really enjoyed focusing on Erin Andrews’ skimpy outfits. It was my first and most honest response.

    Elisabeth Hasselbeck: …I ended up hurting her so I told [my five-year-old] Grace that “Mommy feels really bad ’cause I hurt somebody.” So I took out her little devotional Mommy always reads that says that “reckless words pierce somebody’s heart like a sword.” I promised [Grace] that I would use my words more mindfully…to build people up, not break them down.

    Decoder: All I do is try to break down people who don’t live up to my lofty, irrational standards, because I’m a judgmental, unintelligent little twit who’s living in a bubble.

    Elisabeth Hasselbeck: Thankfully [my daughter who is five] and so cute said, “Mommy, why don’t you just call Erin and tell her you’re sorry?” So I did.

    Decoder: Even five-year-olds are brighter than I am.

    More Decoders:

    The entertainer pictured in 1973 with Richard Nixon. Davis was criticized by some African-American leaders for palling around with the conservative President.

    Billed as “the greatest entertainer in the world” during his lifetime, Sammy Davis Jr. probably had as much claim to the title as anyone. But being that good at singing, dancing, etc., doesn’t come without a price. In Sammy’s case, the cost was education. Practically raised on stage by parents who were vaudeville performers, the school-age Davis received some tutoring in rudimentary reading backstage in between shows.

    In an interview in Playboy’s December 1966 issue, Davis remembered how his service in the Army provided an opportunity for him to further his knowledge of literature. An excerpt:

    “Playboy: Is it true, as some writers have claimed, that you could barely read and write, that you’d never even gone to kindergarten?

    Sammy Davis Jr.: Yeah, it’s true. What’s more, I’ll be turning 40 this year, and I still haven’t gone to kindergarten. Haven’t spent a single day in school my whole life. I say that with mixed emotions. I’m very proud in one sense; I’m very ashamed in another. For instance, you know I’m always being asked for autographs. Say a girl tells me, ‘My name is Rosemari, with an ‘i”. Well I don’t know how to spell the names. I can’t hardly write anything but my own name. It’s a constant, daily embarrassment.

    It’s even more of an embarrassment because of my articulate facade. People think, ‘Why, he’s got to have education.’ But I can’t even write! Nothing but chicken scratches! That I’m not proud of. I’m proud that I’ve pulled myself up by my own bootstraps, with the help of some people who cared enough; but I’m not proud of having no education. What little I do have started on the road, when Will Mastin and my dad found someone around the theaters to tutor me to read and write. We’d work between shows in the dressing room—when there was a dressing room—until it was time for me to go on for the next show.

    Then in the Army, like I told you, this sergeant took a liking to me and started me reading books. Things like The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and some of Carl Sandburg’s books about Lincoln; books by Dickens, Poe, Twain; and a history of the U.S. I would read every minute of the day I had free, then in my bunk until taps, then in the latrine until after midnight. At the PX I bought a pocket dictionary, and I would look up words in places where nobody would see me, then I’d read the books over again. Imagine somebody 18 years old, grown, discovering the thrills of Robinson Crusoe for the first time—reading that kids of 10 take for granted. And a showbiz kid is already 10 years up on the average cat, in street-knowledge terms.

    Like, man, I’d had my first serious affair at 14, and at 18 I still didn’t know what a serious book was. That’s a sad paradox. I remember so well the first book I ever read about my own people, and the effect it had on me. It did something to me. That was Native Son, by Richard Wright. Then, later, I read Black Boy. They made me feel something about being black that I had never really felt before. It made me uncomfortable, made me feel trapped in black, you know, in a white society that had created you the way it wanted, and still hated you.”

    Tags:

    James Patterson: The writer of choice for some of today's best-read convicts. (Photo by Sue Solie-Patterson.)

    The Browser pointed me toward an interesting article posted on the New York Public Library website, which is written by Jamie Niehof, an intern with the Correctional Services Program. The piece, “Controlled Chaos: A Day Working the Rikers Island Book Cart,” gives a behind-the-scenes look at contemporary book and periodical borrowing at NYC’s main jail complex. Based on this article, author James Patterson should be very pleased with himself. An excerpt:

    “Getting books back from the prisoners and letting them pick out new ones is a bit of controlled chaos. We stood outside the iron door to the house with our cart and had two prisoners come out at one time, check off their returned book, and pick out a new one. Each prisoner is allowed one book and one magazine.

    The most popular books are by far James Patterson’s novels, so popular in fact that we have to lock them up after book service because they tend to disappear. I wonder if James Patterson has any idea. National Geographic is the magazine of choice, and there is an entire box of them to choose from, some as far back as the early 80’s. Urban magazines and books were in high demand, with almost no supply.”

    Tags:

    Not the barber chair from the Craigslist ad but still excellent for beer bong use. (Photo by Joe Mabel.)

    Barber Chair for Sale – $50 (Eastchester, NY)

    Black and silver Barber Chair for sale. Husband used in college for shots at Frat house! It holds a lot of good memories for him. If you know of a college student looking to be the biggest hit in his fraternity, this is the chair for him. Pick up only!! It is heavy. Need some strong backs to lift into a truck.

    Lines disappear when they are hit with a ball.

    Thanks to the great Newmark’s Door for pointing me in the direction of the time suck known as Taberinos. It’s a deceptively simple game in which you fire a ball at straight lines to make them disappear. If you remove all the lines before you are out of shots, you get to move on to the next level. The patterns get more elaborate as you proceed and there are some traps built in. Enjoy your wasted time.

    Allan Pinkerton, father of the American private detective industry: "What is this I hear about a detective-punching hellcat?" (Image by Alexander Gardner.)

    There was apparently one thing that Miss Mamie Wilson of Rockaway Avenue didn’t take kindly to in 1898: being told she was no lady. I came across this article about the ass-kicking Mamie in the August 2, 1898 issue of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle. It was subtitled: “Private Detective McCool Fell Victim to Miss Wilson’s Pugilistic Prowess.” An excerpt:

    “Miss Mamie Wilson of 176 Rockaway avenue, who had Michael Fiero, an Italian barber arrested one day last week, on a charge of threatening to kill her, because she refused to marry him, appeared before Magistrate Teale this morning, and requested to withdraw her charge. She said that she and her mother were going to move from the neighborhood wherein they at present reside and would then be free from molestation at the hands of Fiero. The case was set down for a hearing on August 9.

    The young woman was later arraigned before the magistrate on a charge of dislocating the nasal organ of a young man who says he is a private detective. James McCool, the complainant, who lives at 16 Russell place, alleged that on July 27, he was passing Miss Wilson’s door.

    ‘She called me a loafer, your honor,’ said McCool, ‘and I said she was no lady. Then she struck me with her fist on the nose and dislocated it.’

    In answer to the charge, Miss Wilson said that McCool insulted her. She admitted she struck McCool and said he deserved it. When the magistrate said that she would have to be held for the Special Sessions, the young woman became frightened. She was allowed to go under parole.”

    More Old Print Articles:

    Tags: , , , ,

    Lo Bianco and Stoler experience love on the run.

    The Honeymoon Killers could have been Martin Scorsese’s first great film. The then-fledgling director was hired to handle material that seems perfect in retrospect for his sensibilities: a grisly black-and-white docudrama about the real-life 1940s crime spree that saw a pair of grifters commit a string of increasingly brutal murders. The producers were unhappy about the pace of Scorsese’s shooting schedule and his association with the pic ended after just a week. What’s shocking is that novice screenwriter Leonard Kastle, who had no directorial experience, stepped into the breach and did a job even Scorsese could envy.

    Suave Ray Fernandez (Tony Lo Bianco) is a con man who contacts lonely women across America through correspondence clubs and separates them from their savings. He meets his match, however, when he answers a letter from heavyset nurse Martha Beck (Shirley Stoler), who is so desperate for affection that she doesn’t think twice when she figures out the con. Pretty soon the pair are working the swindle together, letting their love fuel a spree that grows more brutal and murderous with every new victim.

    Apart from loneliness and greed, there isn’t a great deal of psychological insight into the vicious crimes, but Lo Bianco and Stoler do so much with surface emotion that the movie never stops being disturbing and oddly touching. For the role, Lo Bianco affected a voice that occasionally sounds like a stock Dracula accent. He and his love draw blood from their victims, to the film’s Mahler score, like they’ll never drink their fill. (Available via Netflix and other outlets.)

    More Film posts:

    Tags: , , ,

    Jeff Zucker: I'm ready for the Green Car Challenge, Jay.

    Jeff Zucker: I do think that there would be a benefit to having people who have run businesses in office–who have a sense of how to how to get something across the finish line, make hard decisions that actually everybody can get behind.

    Decoder: During my tenure at Universal, NBC managed to get behind all the other networks as well as the cultural zeitgeist.

    Jeff Zucker: I think we just have to get the cynicism behind us [in politics] and we have to get some things accomplished and I think people who can do that would be very helpful and beneficial.

    Decoder: And due to delusional arrogance, I actually believe I’m one of those people, despite a preponderance of evidence to the contrary.

    Jay Leno: Mavis and I both love the affiliates, Jeff.

    Jeff Zucker: Well, [running for office] is something that I would certainly look at.

    Decoder: Right after I finish looking at Jerry Seinfeld’s fabulous new show The Marriage Ref, which I greenlighted.

    Jeff Zucker: [Whether I run for office is] all about the timing.

    Decoder: As someone who okayed moving the Tonight Show to the next day, timing is obviously not my strong suit.

    Jeff Zucker: [I would run for office] in New York.

    Decoder: I will make even the worst New York politicians seem palatable by comparison.

    More Decoders:

    Tags:

    Just because he’s stopped trying to incite war with the United States, it doesn’t mean Libyan overlord Muammar el-Qaddafi is any less crazy and hellbent on destruction. These days, as he tells the German magazine Spiegel in a new interview, he believes Switzerland is the evil empire. Yes, Switzerland! But the animus seems to stem from Qaddafi’s thuggish son Hannibal being arrested in that country for the savage beating of two people.

    A few excerpts from the Spiegel piece.

    ____________________________

    Spiegel: Mr. Gadhafi, for years you repeatedly got into shouting matches with the Western world before making your peace with arch-enemy America four years ago. Now you have declared a holy war on tiny Switzerland, of all countries. Why?

    Qaddafi: Switzerland is one country among many; sometimes you have trouble with one country, sometimes with another. We never had difficulties with Switzerland before. We used to appreciate it as a holiday destination. We used to appreciate its companies and its watches. But then Switzerland began to treat us badly. For example, the minaret issue and the publishing of nasty portrayals of the Prophet. It was necessary to draw a line with the Swiss. That is what I did in my speech in Benghazi to mark the Prophet’s birthday.

    ____________________________

    Spiegel: Doesn’t your anger with Switzerland in reality stem from the fact that your son Hannibal was arrested by police in Geneva in July 2008 and accused of beating up two people in his employment?

    Qaddafi: The thing with Hannibal has been nothing but a source of enjoyment for Switzerland. This is a gang that doesn’t care about law and order. The way they treated Hannibal proves that Switzerland respects no laws. A man employed by my son brought accusations against him so that he could remain in Switzerland. They can lock him up — but please do so within the law. The police acted like a gang. They were dressed in plain clothes and they broke down the door, put my son in chains and brought his wife to a hospital. They left his daughter, who is one or two years old, alone back at the hotel. Then they put him handcuffed in a cold storage room, and at times in a bathroom — exactly the way al-Qaida treats its victims. An act of terrorism.

    Spiegel: According to the Swiss authorities, something entirely different happened in Geneva. They say that your son beat up two people there.

    Qaddafi: No, no. Nothing like that happened. Switzerland has not said that to me nor to anyone else. I’m hearing this now for the first time.

    Spiegel: But similar things have also happened elsewhere. Your sons have also run into trouble with the police in London, Paris and Germany. What do you say to them when something like this happens?

    Qaddafi: These are cases of youthful exuberance.

    ____________________________

    Spiegel: What do you think of German Chancellor Angela Merkel?

    Qaddafi: She is a strong personality. More like a man than a woman. But I have never had a conversation with her.

    ____________________________

    Spiegel: Where do you get your facts? Do you watch television? Do you read books?

    Qaddafi: I get most of them from the Internet. I constantly sit at my computer. I read in Arabic, but now it is of course also possible to immediately get translations from English.•

    Tags: , ,

    Sidney Weltmer: I was mustachioed, as was the custom of the time.

    It would be tough to label “Professor” Sidney Abram Weltmer a con man, since he seemed to sincerely believe his bullshit. Weltmer was a medical autodidact and “healer” who opened a clinic of sorts in Nevada, Missouri, in 1897. He offered in-person treatments and a mail-order course that employed something called “Suggestive Therapeutics,” which purported to be able to heal any disease with the power of poitive thinking and laying on of hands. It was a mish-mash of pseudo-medicine and spiritual platitudes. And it was incredibly popular for a good, long time, as Nevada was forced to increase the size of its post office and the frequency of its train service, as letters and visitors poured in. Other doctors and medical associations sued him for fraud, but the Supreme Court ruled in 1902 that Weltmer had broken no laws and was free to pursue his unique brand of medicine and medical instruction.

    Weltmer had originally trained himself to be a healer because he suffered from consumption while he was a teen. Despite that often fatal disease, he didn’t die until 72 in 1930, so maybe he knew something after all. But probably not. An excerpt from the copy of the 1899 Weltmer ad titled “Disease Cannot Exist: 100,000 Cured By Weltmerism Prove It To Be Disease’s Most Formidable Foe”:

    “The man or woman who is diseased or afflicted in mind or body is not in a normal condition, or in that condition which God or nature intended them to be. The organization of woman is so constructed that the monthly period is necessary and natural. If woman is healthy she need have no fear or no pain at this time. Debilitation is unnatural state of affairs. Indigestion, dyspepsia, stomach trouble and all diseases simply show a disordered system, and show the constitution is not in the condition in which it was intended to be.

    The reason that the method of Magnetic Healing as originated by Professor S. A. Weltmer of Nevada, Mo., performs such marvelous cures is that it is perfectly natural and nature’s own cure. For without the aid of drugs or a surgeon’s knife, it goes directly to the seat of all afflictions and in a perfectly natural manner places the entire constitution in a strong and healthy condition.”

    Tags:

    Not the couch from the Craigslist ad, but a proud member of the couch family. (Image by Fastily.)

    Holy Crap, Awesome Couch! — $100 (Union Square)

    Good lord, just look at this glorious couch!!!

    Many people would value this couch at over $50 million, but we’re giving it away for the unreal price of $100!

    All you have to do is come to my apartment and get it before I move out tonight, and its comfy, warm and luxurious qualities will all be yours to enjoy.

    This couch was made by bauhaus, I know, THE BAUHAUS, and is about two years old. Bought it for $800 new, but I have to leave today, so again it’s available for 100 bones.

    Did you know that the ancient romans used to lie on couches while they ate? My GOD! You could be like the ancient romans!!! They conquered most of the known world… just think what you could do if only you had this couch.

    Tan microsuede, seriously comfortable.

    Note: Picture includes some books and a wii fit. Those are mine. All you need, all you will ever need, is the couch.

    More Craigslist ads:

    « Older entries § Newer entries »