The Star Spangled Anacreon

Memorial Day weekend often brings me to the thought of the great debt we owe to the society that originated the tune that is now used to accompany the words Francis Scott Key wrote that have become known as "The Star Spangled Banner."

Many think the tune was originally a drinking song, and the fact that it also once accompanied words to "Adams and Liberty" suggests that the Sons of Liberty in revolutionary Boston had probably figured anybody who could hack the song had the stuff of which dedicated patriots are made of. And a Wikipedia article suggests it was in fact a form of sobriety test among the members of the Anacreon Club. But as anyone knows about "The Star Spangled Banner," friends, don't let friends drink and sing this.

In the 1700s, more than once the crowd told Paul Revere, "sing it again until you get it right" which led him to declare, "I'd rather spend on night on a horse in the Middlesex village and farms." That was better than Sam Adams, who used to sing it until he was horse, sort of like John Lennon at the end of "Twist and Shout" and all the patriots would hoot and holler at him, suspected as his reason for going into the beer business.

But the melody goes back to The Anacreontic Song , also known from the first line, "Anacreon in Heaven." If an entry on Wikipedia has it right, this song, written in the 1760s, included the chorus "And long may the sons of Anacreon intwine the myths of Venus with Bacchus vice." You could often hear the words, "Play ball" echoing across the Boston common after the ringing last notes, followed by the rustling of bags of peanuts and loud belches from the beer-drinking crowd.

It's debated if the members of the Anacreon Society in England were interested in the poetry of the Greek author after whom they took their names or that entwining of Venus and Bacchus, which sounds a lot more interesting that reciting a bunch of stuffy poems. In fact, the patriots spent more time harassing the waitress, trying to interest them in some off-hours entwining, which was totally against house rules.

But the real subject at has is why Francis Scott Key - the name rolls off like a mother yelling at an errant child, Francis SCOTT Key - picked the melody. The Wikipedia article says it fit. I figure that he realized he was writing for free and decided to have a good laugh.

"Let's see how many of them can hit that high note," is likely to be the inscription found in his lost diary.

Harry Potter and the Theory of Humor

In Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy learn to deal with their fears by facing a boggart, a shape-shifting creature that will take the shape of whatever frightens them the most.

Ron Weasley fears giant spiders, in the language of Potterdom, an acromantula, a large talking spider. Professor Remus Lupin, a werewolf in professor's clothing, tells the students to wave their wands and say the incantation, "Riddikulus", while imagining something silly happening to the sources of their terror. Ron does as told and the giant arachnid suddenly has roller skates on each of his eight feet and can't find firm footing and slides awkwardly while the students roar. And each student in turn reduces his or her fears to objects of derisive laughter, (except for Harry, but that's another story.)

There is a basic insight here about just what humor is, and that's a subject about which a lot has been written and little concluded. Yet isn't this the basis of much of our laughter? We laugh at the things we are fearful of, at the things we are angry at (fear turned outward of course).

Ultimately, what author J.K. Rowling has grasped is reduction of fear by making it absurd and the tribal nature of the process. Humor is how we join hands, call the demons before the campfire, name them and steal their power. We join in community with those who share our transformation of fear to laughter.

And in this, we are strong.

The Luck of the Irish

One of the most unglamorous jobs, that would seem to have been highly desirable, was that of the Irish king.
If the stories are to be believed, the almost-king had to have sex with a mare in public. This must have deterred all but the most determined, or perhaps the loneliest.
As the candidate learned of his decision, he asks the priest incredulously.
"I have to have sex with a horse?"
"That's right."
"You're kidding? My brother put you up to this."
"No, it's in the sacred texts. The King must get it on with a horse."
"Maybe it's a copying error. Someone jokingly said, 'The king must have sex with a young filly.' You know how literal scribes can be."

"Nope. It's with a real horse. It's in all the texts, back to the oldest."

"How about we just engage in some heavy petting?"

"Uh, uh. It has to be stick the royal scepter in and ride her to the finish."

"Do I have to do this more than once? I don't want to come home smelling like a stable and have my wife say, 'You've been with HER again.'"

"Just once. That's all. You just plant the royal seed, show your power and fertility and that's it"

"Well, at least nobody has to know about it but you."

"Oh, no. It's got to be in front of the assembled nobles and priests."

"Did the last king do this?"
"Everyone back to the beginning."

"You know. I'm new here. What did he die of?"

"Hoof and mouth disease."

"I think I'm going to apply for the throne of England. They've got an easier test."
"What's that?"

"Killing a dragon."

The Erectile Dysfunction Ad We'd All Like to Hear

Hi, my name's Heather.

And I know you've been listening to all the advertisements for drugs that combat erectile dysfunction. And we at United Pharmaceuticals want to give you advice on these medications that are so personal, in a more personal way.

We need E.D. can be a difficult subject to discuss with your doctor. But there are less direct ways of saying it than telling your physician, "Doc, I feel like the Hindenburg after the crash." And there's no reason to suffer from a lifetime of regrets. How many times have you heard your mother say, "Oh, if only your father had lived until they invented Viagra."

But as beneficial as these drugs are. We must warn you about side effects. You might experience headache, facial flushing and upset stomach, just like the first time you made a move on a girl in high school. But you're more than 21 years old now and it might be something more serious. And maybe you shouldn't be watching this ad when that women from the office that you have been eying for a the last year. It's like trying take a girl to the prom while she watches you fix a flat tire.

If you experience a loss of vision or ringing in the ears, this may not be a problem. It was just that you were too nervous before going out on the big date. So make sure you didn't poke your eyes out with a tooth brush, and take those pills out of your ears. Should you suffer a bought of dizziness, you should have cut out that list gin and tonic while you were trying to get into her pants.

And if you experience an erection that last more than four hours. Give me a call.
I'm sure we can work on it.

My mom--the chicken killer

On the farm, a chicken dinner started a bit differently than it does in suburban homes, whether with a bird from the local supermarket or a prefab from KFC. Chicken meant the live squawking things, run down in the barnyard, feet tied and dumped ungracefully in a burlap sack that was dropped into the back of our truck.

Of course, this meant a certain amount of preparation was required, more than say traveled by the potatoes on their way to the gloriousness of being blended with milk and butter.

The job fell to my mother, who never winced at the first step, which involved her walking to the back of one of the smaller farm buildings, ax in one hand and chicken in another, to an awaiting block of wood—one that would probably be split later for use in the stove.

If you’ve hear the phrase, “running around like a chicken with its head cut off”? They do. It was always a brief source of amusement.

From there, the feathers were plucked, and then the pinfeathers addressed. Invariably, this meant a small dish with rubbing alcohol, which was ignited, with the naked body of the foul rotated as the pinfeathers were singed off.

Somehow, I didn’t usually hang around for the ritual removal of the innards. Nor did I inquire what happened to them. I don’t remember anyone in the family with a taste for chicken liver. I do remember examinations of gizzards and somewhat clinical discussions of the gravel inside and how it got there. A woman’s place, I presumed, was in the kitchen disemboweling small animals.

It is the same way that I remember my father’s grimmer activities—hobby is not a good word. Farmers who also had jobs outside the home did not have hobbies. They had part-time activities like fishing, that brought enjoyment, but also brought a meal into the household.

In this case, his activity was very unpolitically correct. He, like most of the men of his generation and like my grandfather, and the men of his generation, trapped. They used those noxious leghold traps, snaring mostly muskrat, along with the occasional mink, raccoon and dog. It was because of the last two that he always carried a single-shot .22-caliber pistol when he ran the trap line.

I joined him. Once. I didn’t mind his dispatching the glaring raccoon that day. I saw no point in walking around in freezing water in the morning.

From there, the departed had to be separated from those unnecessary parts of the earthly remains—which provided a tasty feast for the family dog.

To be turned into usable pelts, the hides were turned inside out, like a glove, and stretched over boards that were rectangular for most of their length, but came to a point end to accommodate the heads.

He hung those from the ceiling of a shed and when I went in to get tools, I would have to swat the flesh white skins and the boards out of the way.

These were the things people did—that men did, that women did. It defined them. It defined me just as our memories of our parents define any of us who can remember them.

It is this transforms something as bland as potato pancakes for one into a favorite food of others or makes the favorite restaurant where burgers are made just right a test that others endure for the sake of friendship.

Beyond dead foul and skinned rodents, it is our recollection of people that brings back the sounds, sounds and aromas. It is connection to the most everyday of everyday things that comes to mind and we are there again and we know who we are.

And that we are loved.

A Message from the National Knife Association

Few rights are more precious than the right to carry knives. From the beginning of the Republic until today, nothing has served to keep our defense of freedom sharp, than having a sharp blade on hand.

It has only been in the last few years that we have been able to get our message through to our leaders—that the right to be arms extends beyond guns. And that message is being heard from sea to shining sea as we march forward, blades held high.

Where would America be if Daniel Boone couldn’t skin a bear? Or there were no Bowie knife at the Alamo? After all, after you kill a deer, you still have to gut the thing. You can’t do that with a rifle or shotgun.

Knife fighting breeds character. Anyone can take a shot at a person or an animal 100 feet away with a rifle or handgun. It takes real character and courage for an up-close-and-personal fight with a jackknife or a stiletto.

How many gun carriers are as dashing as “Mack the Knife” or “Zorro, the Guy Blade”? (Knives and swords are cousins, separated largely by length.)

There’s no prouder moment than when a parent gives a child that first blade. Learning to safely handle a knife is one of those rites of passage—and it takes discipline to keep a knife sharp and to keep it in safe place in the home.

Think about how much safer the country would be if people were allowed to carry concealed knives. And there’s no danger a knife will go off by accident on a crowded subway that a stray stroke can kill or wound someone two car lengths away. Would 9/11 have happened if two or three people on one of those airplanes had been packing a shiv?

No, knives are the front line of the defense of freedom. Carrying them is part of our sacred birthright.

Remember: When knives are outlawed, only outlaws with have knives!

Toilet Humor in which the male race is defended and Mysteries Are Explained.

"Why don’t you aim better?"

This question, nay accusation, is an eternal source of conflict between the sexes. That it remains a mystery is because it has not been effectively explained, which in turn is because it’s a topic that doesn’t lend itself well to television interview.

“Well, Jay, I know I spayed the floor, but I tried to explain to my wife how this happened and she didn’t want to hear it.

Few men have sought to paint bathroom walls a faint yellow. But, alas, we are unfairly accused. Women, of course, think it’s a matter of aim, much like aiming a bullet at a target. If you point the barrel at the middle of the target—the projectile will fly true and straight. It won’t, by metaphor, drip all over target and onto the shooting bullet range.

The male anatomy is not so straightforward (most of the time), regardless of the presumptions of women. Things get twisted. What appears to be a sure aim, is perhaps ever-so slightly askew

You could say, it’s like using a garden hose if, now and then, the garden hose shrinks and gets covered with a plastic flap. And suddenly, instead of nourishing your petunias, your whole face is wet, and at the office, you see how long you can wait for the dark wet trail on your pants to dry before you walk back to your desk.

The most deadly accident is the hidden twist—the aim is careful, but, unbeknownst to the proprietor, there is just a slight deviation in the spout, leaving a stream across your wife’s bathroom slippers.

At least this is easier to deal with then the corollary:

“Why didn’t you put the seat down?”

“I don’t know. Why didn’t you put it up?”

The Perils of Viagra: A Brief Lesson

A man was walking in the jungle one day and came upon his friend Tarzan who was sitting on the ground.
Tarzan looked dazed. He had bruises all over his body. He was bleeding from several places and there were healed wounds on his body.
The man said, "Tarzan, what happened? You look like crap."
"I know. It's the Viagra I've been taking."
"Viagra. What the hell does Viagra have to do with this?"
"You know Jane wanted to improve our sex life and got to take the stuff. And it's really been great."
"Yeah, but how did you get so beat up."
"Well, when I go swinging through the jungle and try to land on a tree, I keep coming up about six inches short."

The Microsoft Spelling System

Reforming the spelling of English has been of a dream for 200 years.

After all, it would be nice to do away with the vagaries of vowels and consonants that give us words like though, through, tough, thought, cough and cuff.

The problem is there is no one who can make changes stick. There’s no American academy, the way the French and Spanish have academics who purge their languages of unwanted words, larger of English origin.

But we now one unchallenged authority for making the language more sensible, and that is Microsoft with the spellchecking function of Microsoft Word, the ubiquitous word processing software.

Since people will generally believe what the spell checker tells them, changes can be gradually introduced more frequent upgrades to Word, so that the population does not have to absorb the reforms at once.

In Reformed Word 1.00, we can take care of all those “gh” words that are remnants of what used to be something like the German “ch” in loch. Think of the English daughter with the gh pronounced that way. We can move to tho, throo, tuff, thot and goff, and it would certainly make life easier for all the teens who are busily texting to have spelling that is closer to pronunciation.

Version 1.01 will take care of such elements as the “tion” problem. What sense does it have words like nation, population and sensation, spelled this way when they should be nayshen, populayshen and sensaytion. Naturally, Microsoft had to had the y to the a or most would pronounce them nah-shen, populah-shen and sensah-sen, and that would defeat the intent of reform. This version will also rationalize pronunciation of plurals, making it much easier for non-English speakers to learn the language.

It will be much simpler to have all the “z” sounding plurals spelled with zees. “That would give use pluralz, speekerz, upgraydz and kards. Note that in the last word, this version also eliminates the letter c its pronunciations are taken care of by s and k. Of the q also falls by the wayside for kwik, kwit and kwak.

This frees up two letters to take care of sounds that needs separate symbols. C becomes “ch” as it is in many language, so the place of worship is now spelled curc.

Q can be enlisted in distinguishing between the voiced and unvoiced sounds that both represented by the letters th. For those not trained in the jargon of linguistics, that means the “th” sound in that, these, those and breeth (voiced) and the unvoiced sound in think, thin and thik. Notice how we have reformed the spelling of breathe and thick. Since the voiced sound far less common, q is a good letter. We’ll probably have to invent a new symbol.

In version 1.02, the goal will be to take care of then w letters. This will probably be tricky as large parts of the country pronounce the words as hwear, hwen, hwat and hwayl, while much of the North east says wear, wen, wat and wail.

From Microsoft’s point of view, this can open up new markets since it can reshape the dictionary publishing world as we “no” it. (See how great it will be not to have this nasty “kn” words.

I am not sure I'm ready for applying reform to names. Roburt Wilyum Skot? Not yet.

Izod Nation

The renaming of the former Continental Airlines Arena in the New Jersey Meadowlands as the Izod Center got me thinking about the virtues using public property to raise money to reduce taxes.

What better way to memorialize your community than with places bearing the names of such giants of commerce as Qwest with Qwest Field? Of course, there can be some awkward moments, as the one that led to the renaming of Houston’s Enron Field as Minute Maid Park. But that’s business.

It’s truly a shame that Hubert Humphrey Dome Metrodome in Minneapolis wasn’t renamed the 3M Dome. Hubert Humphrey may have spearheaded the changing attitude about civil rights. But 3M pioneered our ability to leave messages with Post-It notes.

And in a day when the tax burden is too high, it seems to me that we have yet to fully exploit the advertising value of our public facilities and prosperities. Once we do, we will laugh at those days when we simply couldn’t grab that last buck.

Think about it. Marriott’s Statue of Liberty.
“Give me your poor, your tired, yearning to breathe free? If you’re tired, and even if you’re poor, you can breathe freely and relax with our special weekend rates.”

Then there’s Prudential Insurance’s Gettysburg Battlefield.

“We here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. But before death visits your family, protect your possessions and your loved ones.”

Don’t forget to visit Caterpillar’s Grand Canyon.

“Nature can dig deep. But think how much she could have done with a Caterpillar Wheel-Loader."

PSE&G’s Niagara Falls (so we have to split the money with the Canadians.)—“We keep it running.”

Exxon’s Alamo—“Remember the Alamo. Remember to fill up with Exxon.”

Sears' Valley Forge—“Don’t get left out in the cold. Stay warm with a Sears HomePro Furnace.”

Bank of America’s Sequoia National Forest. “Towering over the others.”

Maybe we can replace the eagle with the Izod Alligator.

The Blind Men and the Elephant

The master looked as his students carefully as they sat, encircling him, looking with rapt attention.

“Today, I will teach you to put your self always in the other’s shoes.

Once, there were six blind men who were walking through town when they came upon an elephant. None of them had met an elephant before and they were quite baffled at what to make of this beast, who for some reason, stood obligingly still while they made their observations.

One felt the tail: ‘It’s like a snake,’ he cried.

Another was hit by one of the animal’s large ears. “No, it’s like a plant leaf.’

And as each felt a part of the elephant, each expressed a different view—a tree trunk, a water spout. And after they animal moved, they grouped together, each giving a different view, each growing more insistent of the rightness of their observation.

“And, so,” said the master, “We can learn a great lesson from this? And what is that lesson.”

Jemu, the youngest raised his hand.

“You have the answer, my son?”

“Yes. When you’re in the market for a new elephant, don’t send a bunch of blind guys to do the shopping.”

Ancient Religions: Slinging the Bull's ...

There’s been a long debate about the nature of the adornment on statues of Artemis, the Earth Mother goddess, statues whose images are fairly widely available to the general public.

The debate centers around whether all those sack-like objects ranging from her neck on down are breasts or bull testicles.

It certainly changes your view of this particular religion if the answer is the latter, and having seen an original in a museum in Selcuk, Turkey, I’m much more included to the bull-organ origin. Either that, or the nipples on all those breasts were eroded away over the centuries and it’s hard to believe in a work of art with such detail that the makers simply forgot that breasts have nipples..(Well, maybe they were being reviewed by the Federal Communications Commission and didn't want a fine.)

This theory also suggests why worship of the female deity was suppressed by male-dominated religions. It’s easy to imagine the local male population, watching the first batch moving off the idol assembly line, was a bit jittery when they recognized the nature of the appendages.

“Hey, those things look like bulls’ balls.”

“Yeah. I don’t think I want a date with her. Who'd want to put their hands on those?”

The emotions stemming from the fellowship of male animals led to some immediate steps to encourage female worship to move into another direction, the famous mystery religions of the ancient Greeks.

“The guys in the village got together and we thought it would be great if you women danced naked in the clearing in the forest and caroused in the local caves. Do you think you could do some kissing and wrestling while you’re at it? It would add dignity to the ceremony. And, by the way, we’ll pay you not to make any more of those statues. Nothing personal, we just think they don't add to the beauty and sensitivity of womanhood and your religious values. We’ve got these nifty pictures of a guy named pan with goat feet and some pipes. Have some wine.”

Fortunately for the men, the symbolism of the Diana/Artemis/Earth Mother religion was more than a little blunted when an earthquake knocked down most of the Temple of Diana near Ephesus, the only truly female-oriented entry in the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

Well, they said it was an earthquake, but a mob of local men were seen moving off in the night after visiting a local tavern. It was said they had some ropes and pulleys. But nothing was ever proved.

The Ant and the Grasshpper

Once upon a time there was a colony of ants that lived in the ground near a tin can by a tree stump. They lived in a broad meadow which had lots of food and was a perfect place to bring up larva.

The ants were industrious, working day and night, waking with the dawn and falling into their holes at night exhausted. Not so their neighbor, George Grasshopper, who sang, played and drank throughout the day.

“You’ll be sorry, George Grasshopper,” the ants said over and over. “Winter will come and you will have no food, no home.”

But George just laughed.

As the ants kept working, they decided they needed to have ways to bring in more food and a way to pay for it. So they had a meeting in the Union Hall on the other side of the tin can.
“We should build a mall,” said Uncle Charlie Ant, as he chomped away on his cigar. “That way we can rent out the space and we’ll have enough money to buy everything we need.”

So the ants worked hard. They drew up plans. They cleared the earth. And they brought in load after load of building material. They hired the finest ant carpenters and the best ant architects. They put their top supervisors on the job.

“You’re working too hard,” sniped George Grasshopper.

But the ants smiled and worked. They would soon be done and winter was almost upon them.

Then, one chilly day, it was done. The mall was finished and the ants held a groundbreaking ceremony and they invited George as a token of good will.

But George arrived with a team of roach lawyers and a deed to the property. After a court case, he seized the mall and the grassy meadow and evicted the ants, who died by the millions in the cold winter.

The moral of the story? It’s better to be a grasshopper with income-producing property, than an ant.

Modern Knot Theory and the Origin of the Universe

Science has been abuzz with string theory, the concept that all matter ultimately consists of tiny strings that vibrate. But recent thinking has gone far beyond string theory into the revolutionary new view of the world “Modern Knot Theory,” which says the strings are actually tied into knots.

Being tied up in knots, was a concept first expressed by ancient Greek philosophers, who believed universe began as an original ball of twine which started unrolling. This amazingly advanced concept has been confirmed by modern science in what is called “The Big Ball Theory.” No one can adequately explain what started the ball rolling, although some scientists have hypothesized the existence of the Primal Cat. This is viewed as the Cat-aclysmic Theory of Creation.

Those who endorse this view say we can see evidence of the unraveling of the Big Knot, through greatly diminished bits of lint from galaxies billions of light year away as they foul up the Hubble Space telescope.

Knot theory has led to reformulation of quantum mechanics, particularly in the area of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, to state that people who are uncertain about what they are talking about will continue to be uncertain for an indefinite period of time. The biggest problem with quantum physics continues to be that it’s almost impossible to get a quantum mechanic who does good work at a reasonable price. (The uncertainty principle states that it is impossible to know both the location and speed of a particle at a given point in time. The theory was suggested by Heisenberg’s wife who constantly complained that she didn’t know where her husband was most of the time. The other theory about the origin is that most of his colleagues believed Heisenberg uncertain of most things. He was constantly forgetting Avogadro’s number and whether it was unlisted or not.)

Under knot theory, different particles are expressions of how the strings are tied into knots. Those with a religious bent explain God as “The Great Boy Scout” who is constantly reshaping the knots in ways that are not compressible to humans.

However, knot theory faces the same questions as most other theories, particularly when it comes to of universe. Historically, there were those who believed that through entropy all energy would be exhausted and movement would come to a halt.

What happens when the ball is completely unwound is a subject of great controversy.

Cat-aclysm advocates feel the Primal Cat will tug on the string and will start it rewinding This process will be repeated as the universe is unwound and rewound in a continuous cycle. Others feel that when the ball is completely unwound, time and space will stop when the universe reaches the end of its rope and the cat gets bored.