27 February 2012

The View in a Window Contest: Winner #85


With apologies and propers to Mr. A. Sullivan and crew at The Dish.



A reader writes:

That's the toilet in the cathedral at Chartres.  My wife and I had brunch there on the way back from our honeymoon 22 years ago, and we've been happily married and divorced several times since.

Another:

Boy you are making them harder every week, I can't see how anyone can get this one.  Is it from an episode of South Park?

Another:

I never enter this contest although I always enter this contest every week.  This is the view looking west into the window on the second floor of the old maple tree in the middle of the town square, just below the rotunda in the main dancing hall of the American Conservatory Society Headquarters, third bathhouse on the left, in Brooklyn Heights, New Hampshire.

Another:

I searched Google images for 2 days and I'm stumped.  Is that the view in the eleventh floor window on the west side of the Bank of Melbourne building in Perth, Australia?

Right hemisphere anyway.  Another:

The shadows suggest Cartagena, the trim on the windows is pure faux nouveau typical of southeastern Zanzibar, the way the light is dancing off the leaves makes me think of Kevin Costner movies – but the giveaway is the pollen grains visible upon 1000x magnification, upper left.  This photo could only have been taken in Pondicherry, between April 7 and April 12 of a leap year.

Not Pondicherry, but getting warmer.

I'd know that toilet anywhere.  It's in the Spring Hill Dairy and Outpost in Portville, New York.  In 1967 after eating a hot dog with mayonnaise, I sat down and took an awesome dump there.  Absolutely incredible.  Thanks for stirring up some fond memories.

Please.  Another:

Finally!  Been reading your site for 3 years now but this is the first time I've recognized one.  That's the bathroom at Scottie Pippen's mansion in the Conquistadores.  I don't have time to Google map it right now but trust me, Pip was a top fifty guy and that's a top fifty crapper.

Technically correct, and one of three of Scottie's former teammates to identify the city and country.  But the big prize goes to our lucky winner:

I was in the service in Kalamahari Acres and we had a bathroom just like that.  It was literally the only thing that kept me going in those days, and is indeed a stirring tribute to our many honorable brothers and sisters serving overseas in armed forces bathrooms during their honeymoons.  When President Kennedy was shot I was standing outside that bathroom door waiting my turn, and on the day of the first moon landing it was in that very bathroom that Buzz Aldrin wept.  Without that head I would not be alive today, it picked me up when I was lonely and gave me a place to vomit when I had to puke. The spiders in that bathroom were enormous. One morning I went in there and a six foot maple sapling was growing right out of the toilet, must have sprung up over a long weekend.  My mother-in-law was born in that water closet and my father-in-law died during a post-Grammy reception there. Churchill, Stalin, Roosevelt and Mao played a poker game there one night, at stake was the very soul of humanity ... and only that toilet knows who won.  Elvis, Michael Jackson, –

All right, all right.  Your book is in the mail.

18 February 2012

Sunday Conversation: Alice Phillips

Alice Phillips is a painter, writer, architect, poet, historian, bagman, bon vivant and two-time winner of the Marshawn Lynch Prize for Distinguished Running Off Left Tackle.  She agreed to take several hours from her busy schedule to sit down and say stuff in response to stuff we said, even consenting to let us record, transcribe, and subsequently publish all the words, and in the order in which they were uttered (with a few important exceptions).
 
Talk about your relationship with your family.  Your father was a bit of a browbeater no?

I don’t talk about my father much since the war, but he was an outstanding telephonist whose contributions to telephonics are still widely implemented.  Telephonology would never have been the same without my old man.  Now he could beat the old brow and he certainly did now and again, in our house it was like the running of the bulls – the beating of the brows, you know?  But by and large he remains a living link to the age of telephonistics and still serves on the board of Dutch telephonologistics giant Telephonus.  So I’ve forgiven him for most of that.

And your moms? 
My mom was the chicken and the egg all rolled into one.  She raised nine of us on her chiropractice, made time to wax her eyebrows and still got us to a church on time.  But I think anyone can say something like that about their mother.  She made me who I am.  Why, I can’t say.

Your last three novels have contained subplots about string theory, string cheese, and hamstrings.  Is there a common thread there?
I just really like cheese.  Rich in calories, rich with meaning.  Stinks good.

And?
What do you mean, "And"?  Do you mean to accuse me?

Come clean, Alice.  On September 27, 1986, outside the Ol’ Butterstank Tavern, you murdered Henry Woodsox.
Did not.

Did so.
All right, you got me copper.  [Laughs derisively.]  But you’ll never get away with it.

Just kidding. That was great fun, wasn’t it?
[Mops sweat from brow.]  Oh I do enjoy acting.

Let’s talk for a moment about Guns N Roses if we might.
Well I supported McCain in 2008 but this year there is really only one choice for the future of our country, --

No no, not the candidate, the rock band.  Axl Rose, Charlie Leadbetter ...
Oh, yeah.  Well they called me to come in and touch up their second record but as I’ve said elsewhere, I was not accorded the proper respect and grew bored with the constant struggle for creative control.
 
After that you worked in your uncle’s hardware store for seven years.

That was an important period in my artistic development, undoubtedly.  After I left the music business, stopped reading the scripts my agent sent me and dropped out of the eating contest circuit completely, I was able to really get my thoughts together, you know collect them, analyze, categorize and prioritize them, and this gave me a deeper insight into my own thought process, a better understanding of who I was and what I was thinking, and what the thoughts meant, and how to develop a schema for classifying the thoughts so that they could be easily recalled and cross-referenced, and ultimately of course, monetized.
 
And did you succeed?

I’m here, aren’t I? 

Sort of.
I know:  Not really, right?

Is it just me or are zinc oxide nanowires just so 2009?
O my god, like fer sure!  That and carbon nanotubes.  If I have to read one more press release about carbon fucking nanotubes, I swear.  Here’s a question, how many carbon nanotubes can you shove up a lion’s nether pole?

Hm.  When you look back on your accomplishments, what really stands out for you?
It all seems like a big creamy dream, like something somebody just made up to publish on one of the stupidest dumb blogs out there.  I must be the luckiest nonexistent celebrity in the history of moonshine.  [Files retroactive tax form extension request.

More peas?
Nah, I’m good.  Look I’m tired, you got one more question.

In fact I have none.  This interview is over.
Thank fucking god.  Who do I make the check out to?

11 February 2012

The Five Friends in 'The Time Capsule'

Few who are alive today will ever remember, nor forget, that fateful evening when the first illustrated comic appeared on The Proverbial Bejesus.  It was called The Five Friends by Russell Bishop and it told the very special tale of a time capsule and the story thereof.  "We hope you enjoyed it."