[Visitors following a link from No News Magazine may scroll to complete bottom of this page & work their way up, further down, or through Void College with bells & whistles, with our compliments.]
Named for the flagship news org that provides a fair share of our almost totally original content, this website is the world’s only known Authorized Depository of Abstracts, Deletions, Articles & Selections (ADADAS), including excerpts from from any & all member-publications of the Peninsula Independent Press Association, while doing double-duty as the Bod Library-On-Line’s Un-named Annex for Humor & Media (with some serious stuff*), & an occasional triple flip as Institute for Runaway Self-reference (“a free key press reflecting on itself”).
In the belief that self-criticism begins at home while transparency begins at the window, we’ll tell you more about ourselves when we see you. For now let’s just say we reflect & report on the worlds we inhabit (& which inhabit us) to deliver fresh perspective on timeless issues of the day, moon, season, era, ages past & yet to come, as well as news on what’s for sale, available for free, being discovered, happening around us, and/or predicted to happen in the vicinity of our favorite “well-mirrored peninsula,” the Mishugunah, Dang Ling, Reverse, Insular, Perverse, Far Out, etc., or however else it may appear on maps.
We expect to provide future historians, comics, drama critics, market strategists, funhouse designers, rubik engineers, & ordinary people just trying to make ends meet along the Mobius Strip Poker Highway of Life just what was being looking for coming here, so long as that was an endless supply of the unexpected …unwashed…unfiltered…& unfinished…. [potentially improving, nevertheless, with plenty of room to go. –ed.]
When not doing double duty [which it isn’t yet], this site can still offer visitors triple by-pass brain-stem-bud displacement service in its state of the art operating theater, run by the Open Door Free Clinic’s Trauma Drama Team, with help from the Clown Ambulance Company’s Emergency Mirth Technicians & inventive neuro-nerds at Placebo Pharmaceuticals, “home away from home for the mind on vacation, gateway to worlds beyond.”
“If you’ve already lost your mind, you’re not likely to find it here.” –Stella Blaze, Hotel 9 Pops’ fiery book-keeper, shown here with night auditor & vigilante security. “Some men are good at being bad. Others are just bad at being good.” –Stella Blaze, circa 1980.
The Hotel 9-Pop’s Courtyard Operating Theater hosts a variety of stellar local cultural groups, therapeutic guilds with film-strips & strip films, like the Thursday PEON Poetry group (which now meets every other odd Wednesday); the Void Ladies Auxiliary (“Quick Lit, Lunch & More”); PS, the Posthumous Society’s “Afterthoughts,” a late note exchange (“wake up & smell the coffins”); along with the Multiple Personality Coalition’s Monthly Mixer (“Funhouse Dating”); the seasonal Alias & Pseudonyms Association (APA) Identity Shuffle Sunday (“C-below”**); & the annual Footnoters Union Drill-Team Jamboree.****
STOP! YOU ARE ABOUT TO ENTER A DESIGNATED Too Much Information Footnote Zone.
Too Much Information should be considered like a buffet with too much food. You’re not expected to eat it all, let alone in one setting. Feel free to nibble, and come back often.]
* By serious stuff, we mean essays like “Humor & the Humanities,” “Laugh Therapy & Literature,” and “Cousin Kafka’s Crazy Quilting Club,” all of which we plan to put in the Humor & Media room, when we get around to making one.
** APA calls itself “a secret front org for unaffiliated undercover operatives & card-carrying co-conspirators trained, funded & discoordinated by the Amorphous Postal Order of Heretics, Independent Contrarians, & 501-cu-later organization.”*** [A splinter group that calls itself APA AKA KAKA masquerades as a fraternity on college campuses.]
*** The cards these co-conspirators carry are presumably Bod L-O-L cards, held in endlessly variable combinations, & suitable for a variety of games. (Consult your local attorney major general for concealed carry laws applicable to L-O-L library cards in your state.)
****F.U.‘s, as members of the Footnoters Union are called, dig nothing more than “drilling down,” so double as drill leaders for the downer wing of the MORE-ON Movement–“a little more on this, a little more on that, soon you’ve got a whole lot more than you bargained for or ever expected, including deep holes still sinking &/or tall piles with unknown tipping points, so watch your step, wash your toes, down the hatch & up your nose,” as an old submarine ditty puts it. [For more on the Bod’s More-On Club, just keep going.*****]
***** “Don’t give up…the sheet!” cried Bull Sheet editor E. D. Headly in his final editorial, “Cut the crap, not the bull!” Despite his plea, the Bull’s owner cut a deal with his counterpart & snapped up The Port Hooch Dock Knot Hole, turning into The Port Hole Sun Knot Telegraph, & Headly was out of a job by the end of the day. His posthumous memoir years later, Far Too Late for Tears, lamented “having held on to the Bull far too long,” comparing himself to “a seaman who has grabbed onto the anchor chain, thrown it over the side, & won’t let go.”
[ You may take that as a warning not to try holding on beyond your maximum daily crap capacity (mdcc), with a grain of salt, &/or for whatever it’s worth on the open market.
Reaching one’s mdcc limit needn’t mean holding up the white flag of surrender, but taking a break while still wanting more, a short intermission, giving the brainstem the chance to refresh itself, catching up with its better halves.]
Whether we’re talking about pants, bank-loans, white flags or armed robberies, actual hold ups are rare on the Mishugunah Peninsula, where there’s no easy escape.
As it says under “Crime” in the Visitor’s Guide, “For pants, there are suspenders; for bank-loans, hoops to jump through; for white flags, clouds do the honors, visible from deep in a hole…..”
The point is that crime is explicitly prohibited, as well as implicitly discouraged. Breaking the No Crime Law often means more serious punishment than for the crime committed, up to & including bansihment, exile, burial at sea, confinement, &, for repeated offenses (like “unlawful repetition, rebroadcast, or rebranding”), a modern revival of hanging called left dangling. The threat of armed robbery has been effectively eliminated by the traditional penalty for hold-ups, loss of arms, waive-able when only toy armaments are used.*
* In historical times, many muggers used realistic-looking toys in games of Stickem-Up**, until laws mandated placement of red tabs on toy gun muzzles to discourage police from shooting more kids than necessary, at which the Law of Unintended Consequences (LUC) automatically kicked in, so some muggers removed the red tabs from toys & others added them to real guns, giving them a potential edge in shoot-outs with police. LUC (the Law of Unintended Consequences) was never discretionary, but always mandatory, so soon introduction of glow-in-the-dark tabs of all colors sent gun sales booming.
**Stickem-Ups, on the other hand, became a series of popular brands that achieved many successes of their own in the highly competitive postit, ceiling-star, donkey-tail, underwear, & suppository markets, taxes from which provided funding for the Mishugunah’s “War on Hold Ups,” with implementation put in charge of a large, well-funded bureaucracy explicitly created for the purpose of streamlining government.***
*** To everyone’s surprise, the “War on Hold Ups” Department proved a great success, offering Hold Up Artists a worthy alternative to lives of crime, a way out, along with a generous package of medical & retirement benefits.
[As reported in a later edition of The M T Mirror-Times-Mirror, “Now that the vast majority of Hold Up Artists are gainfully employed streamlining government in their own bureaucracy, people are once again free to hold up placards for & against things like free speech without fear of either armed thugs or official harassment, so long as they don’t hold up traffic.
“True Hold Up Artists of other sorts can now receive the attention they deserve, including those who simply hold up their end of a see-saw, log, or bargain. Not all hold-ups are created equal, in other words. If you’ve recently lost weight, you may need to hold up your sweatpants. If you have a question in class, hold up your hand. But not in bridge.*]
- * A draw bridge deck differs from a deck used in draw poker. An artist may draw any kind of bridge or hand, however, even a hand drawing a library card from a ship’s deck passing through an open draw bridge, in an ad for Princess Pools Cruise Line’s Imaginary Adventures**
- ** .’…natural, organic, and 100% fresh daily,’ just like The M T Mirror-Times-Mirror*** .
*** Thus the tradition of hostages holding up a copy of a particular day’s M T Mirror-Times-Mirror to establish proof of life as of that time, pre-photoshop, going back to “the great prognosticator” who claimed to hold up a copy of “Tomorrow’s News Today,” then blamed his “captors” for late delivery.********The difference with the mirror-times-mirror.net edition ought to be obvious, starting with its Endless Scroll Format, which can go on without a break for days & nights, nights & days without end (just the way The Daily Planet does). You have to make your own breaks to make ends meet, in other words, just as you would a thick book read some in every night all the way through….’You read your fill, with pleasure still in thoughts of what you will,
when time & rest returns your mind on the other side of the hill….’ —Cheap Thrills
**** Like The Daily Planet, but unlike a book, the .net edition can change from visit to visit. Nothing seems to stay still in this architecture (“or only nothing stays”). Nor are changes mainly linear, following a strict time-line around corners, up & down spiral staircases, out to decks & gardens, where the story unfolds “first this happened, then that,” whether reported or re-enacted etc.
- Big Bang Bongo aside, new space-time can come into existence anywhere, like right here now where the text goes in, the line appears in a place created simultaneously with its content, line by paragraph by post by page.
[Some less obvious changes may remove &/or replace, tighten &/or sharpen, add pictures &/or subtract distractions, multiply options &/or divide into sections.The main point is simply that this mad world is unfinished…still…in the act of creation, and presumably remains so as long as its creator lives…writes, reflects, edits…&/or time takes its toll, pays its toll forward, & moves on.]
ASAPA: As Soon As Pages Appear….
Besides providing occasional meeting space for groups with which we have little or no other relationship, & whose bona fides we haven’t checked, & might never want to be part of ourselves, the Bod Library’s Un-Named Annex (BLUNA) also hosts some entities more directly connected to our own identity as a virtual entity. Some of these will have rooms of their own eventually, pages you’ll be able to click to, though still inter-related, over-lapped, inter-twined & reachable from each other. (Let us know if you’d especially like to see one or another up.) These “facets of the Bod” include:
—–Bod Library’s Annex for Humor & Media (BLAHM), as foot-noted above;
—–Olaf School of Humor Therapy (OSHT), state of the art guffaw technology;
—–Peninsula Independent Press Association (PIPA ), the mother ship;
—–M T Mirror-Times-Mirror Company, its subsidiaries, affiliates & associates (The M T Mirror-Times-Mirror Trans Media, Inc.; The Pothole Daily News Enterprise Suggestion Box; The Port Hole Sun Moon Astral Calendar; The Void Advertise; Fort Arroyo Broken Record; KNUMb’s X-Static Mime Radio; C-All Closed Circuit Pocket TV; Bezerkshire Halfaway’s 2-Bit Annual Stock Report Press; Poor Ricardo’s Almaniak, etc..);
—–eTests, Test-ease & Quizicle Quickies, the random data-base of questions from all major tests & licensed testing services–e.g., Substandard & Bidet’s LIQ (Lack of Incomprehension Quotient); the Political Aptitude/ Asylum Inn Sanitorium Index; the Complete Acronym Compatibility Assessment; the Cannonballs of Knowledge Splash Altitude Achievement Battery; Half-fast Wit Testing; the Down Under Survival Test (“Bury them & they will pass”); the Snap-Out-Of-It SOON Slap Test (“Thanks, I needed that”); etc.
—–Handy Dick’s Random Out-of-Pocket Dictionary, Encyclopedia, Acronym Directory*;
—–Open Sesame Collage, gateless degrees in Fahrenheit, Celsius & Seltzer studies;
—–Bao Lo’s Half Bakery, time-life-&-fortune cookies;
—–Origami Holding & Folding, specialists in niche assets & crack packing.
- * Acronyms are being delivered, unloaded, unfolded, sorted, assembled, boxed & shelved even as we speak.
So far, it seems, our virtual building crew has added only two of the room-pages mentioned above, one for “PIPA,” Peninsula Independent Press Association; the other for “Tests,” so far mostly just a few random questions on your general knowledge of our crazy mixed up world, language, conventions, brands, agencies, schools, & media.
On the other hand, there’s already a third page/room up not mentioned above at all, called “Sparkling Inn Cider” (sic, for short), for which we have no idea what’s in it. In such a surprisingly diverse world layered with more orders of magnitude than we can shake our sticks at, lathered in unpredictable glitches, & mystically shape-shifting inside & out along the Moby Dick Strip, anything seems possible, at least in theory, with plenty more to see for ourselves ASAP….
~~~~~~~Unauthorized Personnel Only~~~~~~~.
The following has
—–Too Much Information;
—–Too Little Value;
—–Too Many Twists;
—–Too Few Turns….
We advise you don’t even try to read it.
Reading, like knowing too much, can have serious consequences, including side-effects.
~~~~~~~~~~[No Exit Ahead.]
We can see from the fact that you’re still here,
you’re cursed with a taste perversely rare–
a real individual, with a mind of your own,
who won’t listen to reason, but must get your mind blown.
If we tell you, don’t read this bit,
hey–you’ve already read it,
if only to know what it had to say,
& how funny was the sayer who said it.
Rainy days are great for books,
easy chairs in cozy nooks
with fishing lines that have no hooks,
schools of schnooks in babbling brooks.
You’ll catch your fill of crazy fish
that flip & flop, then splash & splish,
until you’re smart enough to wish
for something calmer on your dish.
Just turn the page, & you may find
what food for thought does to your mind,
nibbled riddles, lumps & grinds,
noodle-knots with double-binds.
Now ain’t you glad that, be what may,
the time you’ve spent is all you’ll pay?
You shouldn’t call it cheap advice,
since it’s just as cheap at twice the price.
~~–Yours Crudely, The Editorial Oui*
- Quoting from the “Closed Exit” billboard, prepared by Boastful Advertising for the Consolidated Agency for Commerce & Art, jointly funded by the tourist-loving towns of Stayout, Keepaway, & Closed:“Originally leading to the No Vacancy Motel, the Closet Inn, Camp Close (“but no sitar”), Closer Town & Loserville, known for its golf matches, pool halls & darts hustlers,
Closed has had a “distinguished history,” according to The History of the Closed Exit, the in-lieu-of bible found in nightstands of what are now the area’s Far Out Inns.Once part of a “grand experiment in reverse psychology,” conducted at the top secret Subliminal Laboratory for Advertising & Propaganda, soon became Clogged with sightseers & sagesses, along with the simply curious. In the prime boom town, even the No Vacancy had a waiting list, Camp Close added electric guitars, & Closer Town was officially designated the “0-degrees of separation” point (an inn joke).
- From Boom’s Bosom to Busted Flush tells how the Lost Head Lighthouse, located at what had been the tip of Spit Tongue Point, washed out in surges with rising sea-levels. Renamed, “No Head” is an island now, surrounded by shoulders of kelp & microbe-treated sludge, as poet Johnny Done wrote: “No Head is an island, cut off & by itself…”
- John is sometimes credited with the invention of ‘John verse,’ including, “Take your time, don’t rush. Enjoy these rhymes; when done, please flush,” raising many issues with literary historians, since he wrote this before indoor plumbing. [Rolls of Poet John Done’s prize-winning collected poems are available in No Head’s TP Museum outhouse-shaped gift shop.]
MAP OF THE HOLE: a geo-illogical verbography
The Inverse Peninsula–IP;
from the tip of the top to the top of the tip,
ridge’s peaks to tides that rip,
suspension bridges incomplete,
partners bidding with their feet,
Outside Inns with inside suites.
Those Far Out Inns you love the most.
are found along the wild coast,
“But we get you higher!” mountains boast.
Rooms up high serve jams & toast,
tack postit notes to your bed-post
in case you wake & see a ghost,
“please don’t scream & wake your host;
enjoy the dream, & if you wake, the show
that friendly ghosts put on before they go.”
This map may be continued at some future date.
For now, we’ve had more than our fill, so more must wait *
- “The journey of a thousand leagues
begins with a single footnote.”
- “The Mishugunah Peninsula is quite perverse,
its humorous verse is even worse.”
- Short Attention Span Suspension Bridge
Tournament ahead–in progress….
notes on notes
[The first of these, from Footnote Road,
was left by a toad whose mind was blowed.
The second tells it straight & true,
attached to cows with gorilla glue.
The last, alas, may make you scream
to wake the cockroach from his dream.*
* Following the “last shall be first principle,” this pithy couplet comes from The Cockroach Who Dreamed He Was Kafka, by Max Roach, owner of the Roach Motel & author of The Twisted History of the Stripped Screw (a karmic trial transcript), The Inspector 8 Caper (a red herring mystery), & ran for Mayor as a Bull Mu, breaking new ground in eyeball SLAPt (Subliminal Laboratory of Advertising & Propaganda technology) with florescent “Mu’s” painted on one or two sides of countless peninsula Guernseys, Holsteins, Anguses, Short-hairs & Longhorns, all the brighter at night.
** Bull Mu pictures soon also appeared on billboards for Max’s Za Zen Zafu Mini Rodeo, a SLAPt Eyeball Promotion, which a Mirror-Times-Mirror’s reviewer described as “a Roach-rich gala of silent poets riding pillows for a good cause, to kick-start the High Cuckoo Society’s~
~~~~~Syllable counting/ Scholarship in Finger-based/ High Ku Accounting.”
~~~~~The Verse Scholars’ Ship/ money can buy–happiness/ is a warm pudding
wrote Honorable Haiku Master Bodo centuries earlier, which Mad Ave Types (a Periphery Center image enhancement firm) turned into
~~~~~The Verse Accountant/ money can buy–happiness/ with a big refund.
The Verse Accountant traced its lineage not to Bodo, but to Bodo’s “absent-minded student,” Kakadu Hikrapu, whose best known verse goes:
~~~~~squish between my toes/ sorry I didn’t wear shoes/ to jam that muffin,
after having tried to kick a field goal with a fresh green cow pie.
~~~~~Next time I’ll yell, Fore!/ before lofting my chip shot/ where buffalo roam,
he added in a sequel, submitted to the old Bull Sheet’s Cuckoo Haiku Annual Prize Issue.
Master Bodo was not amused, & not a Bull Sheet fan, nor of Kakadu’s.
~~~~~“I am not a fan/ having some remnant of taste/ yet I also turn,”
said Bozo, turning & leaving, surprising everyone, since they were at his house.
They found him again later at the library’s Pom Pom & Origami Club program, “Holdem & Foldem,” turning his fluttering fan into a high-rising crane in a wink. Asked what he thought of Hikrapu’s verse-making, Bozo said,
~~~~~“bad haiku in tears/ makes good confetti, happy/ to flutter away,”
upon which he & his crane followed suit.*****
~~~“I fold, my crane folds/ we all fold-de-rol-rol just/ pom-pomming along.”
& this before piano rolls, TP rolls, & rock-&-roll, but not before cycles, wagons, & wheelbarrows, smelly rolls, jelly rolls, or (arguably oldest of all) belly rolls.
[“You might get an argument on this from fans of jazz pillar, Jelly Roll Morton Salt,” wrote music critic Lenny Bruce Feather, “but not on knowing how to holdem, knowing how to foldem, as well as when, where & with whom.”]
a room with a view of itself
In the library’s self-reference section, we find a note indicating that “The Mirror-Times-Mirror.net website is (mis)managed by The Mirror Times Mirror Company’s in-house Miss- Management firm with offices in The Mirror-Times-Mirror Building, named for its flagship newspaper & penthouse home to the Mirror-Times-Mirror Square’s Glass Balls, dropped annually in the heart, liver & kidneys of beautiful downtown Periphery Center.
It’s said “all the wires cross here,” as both media capital & node in the Bod’s L-O-L Network, with roots & branches in inns & outlets in Void, Fort Arroyo, the Slimey Coast, Port Hole, & wherever else you happen to find yourself while your brain processes PIPA material hosted in the Bod Library’s Annex for Humor & Media (formerly its Wing for Laughing at the World from What We Thought Were Windows, but Turned Out to be Mirrors).
Navigating within the Bod Library Complex (whether architectural geography or psychological condition) may take you through some varied topography, including self-multiplying divisions of MAPA Systems (a New Mexico sole proprietorship since 1979), dba Land of Enchantment Game Company (Bazari, Takeover, Market Maniak, Gasm, etc.); Fort Arroyo Radio Theater (home of the public radio toke bag), Odd Mime Audio (mime talking books & rude gestures caught on tape); Rikipedia (which comes now with a subscription to Dikileaks, the Peripheral Intelligence Agency’s classified footnote dictionary in the cloud).
As the host at the Institute for Runaway Self-reference says (just after the “short description” of the Institute, its history, staff, mission, future, minutes of last meeting, & assorted announcements on upcoming events, & just before introducing “the speaker who needs no introduction”: “But enough about us. We’re here…to serve YOU.”
a hole with no bottom (but a view of itself)
Serving* countless YOUs for as long as we can remember!”
—J. Honor Fingers iv,**** Accountant of Monte Crisko
* “Our mission is to serve. But to serve WHAT? WHOM? HOW?” To serve tennis balls to octopi is not the same as serving melon & matzo balls in room service at Alice’s Inn, or serving in the armed services with cannonballs. Serving you is one thing; serving tripe another.
“Serve them wows of awe & whys of wonder,
eyes of love & sighs of thunder,
but if you want to win the prize
of oft returning gals & guys,
serve them up–A BIG SURPRISE!
—& they’ll come back for more, y’all,
& they’ll come back for more.”**
–Bod L-O-L’s Sage-In-Residence (& curator of the Absinthe Bottle Collection***).
** Translating sage-say (called “genie”) is not as straightforward as one might think, however, as other translators render the same passage as, ‘Serve aces, & oh, all will gush, jack’; ‘Poured absinthe on ice turns creamy, Jill’; ‘The dead dream lightly in the freezer, chilled’; & ‘Son Juan’s in the kitchen with diner bill.’ ***
*** Whatever the going rate for how many washed dished pays for a full plate, absinthe label readers may note that the Bod L-O-L’s Annex for Humor & Media houses one of the largest collections of empty bottles known in any library, virtual or otherwise. (Although well-stocked absinthe bars may have more varieties, they’re only rarely kept empty.)
**** Judge Learned Forefingers, a.k.a., Your Honor, started out at his own firm, FingersR’us, originally a collection agency with its own pocket-friendly accounting systems, later merged into the Accountancy of Monte Crisko in a 3-Card Monte stock swap some called “slippery,” leaving the counting to others later to become Judge Fingers on the Void County Superior Bench, where he served long enough to reverse some of his longest & highest sentences ever delivered in rhyming opinions, length being greater in the mirror & height more a matter of attitude than altitude, tilt & yaw over floor number….***
*** See his 24-volume Where’s the Brief? a dress code of conduct for those appearing in his court, &/or practicing squats before the local bar. The Mirror-Times-Mirror reviewer called it “a good read, & better skim,” if you want to understand the philosophical chasm separating his views from those of his arch counter-weight on the bench, Judge Knott, especially their deep differences in the case of Hangem v. Hangem High….***
**** Can a fictional character own its own name, or must it also be a public entity to do with it whatever it wants, even if some find the implications offensive?*****
***** The case was settled out of court when the school board agreed to de-chisel (i.e., un-engrave) Judge Hangem’s name & re-chisel (the negotiator called it “re-brand”) the building in question as Letzget High, honoring distinguished alumnus Simon Letzget, for his many contributions to school & society.
****** Called the Sinkhole King of Corker County, Letzget’s real-estate development projects did for under-ground architecture what skyscrapers did for building up. Letget High stood as an example to the nation, therefore, that schools could save money for important things like buying more tests by eliminating natural light & easy escape routes.
******** Fire escapes were replaced with hemp ladders, until these ended up either smoked or commandeered for a student production of the musical, Indian Rope Trick….
********** That were some hole, officially part of the TMI Zone. (We should have warned you before we fell in.)
satisfaction guaranteed–if you aren’t we aren’t
Whether we’re talking about the Inverse Peninsula Press, the Unnamed Mall Maze Hall Annex, or the whole Dang Library-On-Line’s peninsula bridging bedrock ten twain down & sky beyond loft, you won’t find all you want in one browse, or get all you deserve in one visit–though you may well get all-you-can-stomach &/or all-you-can-take in one sitting, time after time. We hope you leave the elegant buffet of the mind & spirit not so stuffed you never come back, just stuffed enough to be satisfied for the time being.
Vaudeville’s “Leave’m wanting more” works for libraries also, which should always hold more than you could get to on that visit. Not even the most voracious reader ready to party after a long, slow fast can digest all that nature & culture have 0packaged here in one stuffing. It’s a big, varied world, after all, inside & out, upside & down, any way you/we slice it.
Your satisfaction time after time fulfills our mission, our reason for being, & original motivation–though, let’s face it, we serve ourselves first, if only to make sure you’re getting the service, quality, & variety of food-groups free of the contamination you deserve, along with an occasional rude surprise, loud guffaw with wet air spray.
We eat our own cooking, in other words–& laugh at our own jokes, that being usually our only reward. If we aren’t laughing, we’re not getting paid! Our standards must remain as low as possible, therefore, in keeping with the Limbo philosophy of keeping the bar low enough to jump over–laughing easily, in other words, even if that means by mistake using higher standards.
When the result is not as funny as it seemed in the first blush, there’s a chance we’ll notice that when we eventually come back to read passages as if we’ve never seen them before, easy to do thanks to a short attention span. It may take us awhile to get back, however, being easily distracted by other writing that also needs re-writing. As soon as re-reading (or visitor comment) alerts us that something doesn’t smell right, we try to clean it up, &/or throw it out. The job of cleaning up is never done–like the job of wising up.
Along these lines, providing satisfaction does not necessarily mean achieving &/or providing wisdom, however much we may try. For general purposes providing pleasure will usually do quite nicely, thanks, along with various other kinds of pleasing. Pleasing does seem to please us most, starting with ourselves. Wisdom may be pleasing, but how would we know? Socrates’ recipe for hemlock malted may serve as a reminder that being too much of a wise-guy can also displease others. (If you’re one of those, we apologize in advance, even if you’re the one who should.)
A wiser counsel might well advise, “You can’t please everyone.” That may well be, but from our perspective, a more relevant question is if we can please anyone–& if so, who & how? Here we might note that the complete satisfaction we guarantee does not require pleasing any more than it did wisdom. In fact, according to our attorneys, wisdom might make pleasing harder, and pleasing could delay satisfaction. We quote from their opinion:
“No sane person assumes that the satisfaction promised means now & for all time in all realms & domains. Just as all you can eat is limited to at one sitting, even complete satisfaction is universally limited to the goods or services in question over a reasonable period of time & pattern of use. In the case of things involving taste and other intangibles like knowledge, understanding, wisdom or entertainment, there are few objective criteria beyond personal judgement.
“In our experience, there is one such sign that is widely, if not universally, accepted as a sign of satisfaction, however, namely when the consumer of a product or service says, enough, or enough already–I’ve had enough! Sometimes this can be phrased I’ve had more than enough! I’ve had all I can take! or even, Stop–I can’t take any more. All visitors to the Bod L-O-L’s Annex for Humor & Media who stop when they’ve had enough may therefore be deemed ‘satisfied,’ anhd the guarantee met.”
~~~~~Shine, Bloom & Moonem, attorneys-in-law for-the-moment, specialists in ad hock & ad hominy arguments, along with de facto cases involving habeus corpses & the statues of limitation determining their expiration dates.
beyond satisfaction–beauty, funny, utility
Unlike wisdom, which is sometimes a downer, beauty is almost always enjoyed & enjoyable in its own right, welcome even when it teases, fails to satisfy, or leaves you wanting more. If something is beautiful, it needs no other justification for being. It brings pleasure to hedonists & shedonists alike.
In this regard, beauty is like funny, which need not be wise, smart or make sense to be enjoyed, appreciated, and even useful. It may sometimes be hard to pin down the usefulness of beauty, as the beauty itself can be lost in the pinning. It’s sometimes said that even humor is lost when we try to pin it down, but this actually depends on whether the wriggling is funny or sad from the observer’s point of view.
Some scientists obsessed with human sexuality claim that what their subjects find beautiful corresponds with the signs & symptoms of genetic fitness & successful reproductive potential, the chemical constituents of which they are busily trying to identify & replicate in the lab. But this does not explain our experience in finding members of other, quite distant species beautiful, or the beauty of a landscape, a building, or idea.
Of course there are many books written trying to analyze what’s funny in humor, though many mainly just beat around the bush (“the bush, the bush, the beautiful bush/ the more you look, the more you push/ the more you push, the more you rush/ the more you rush the more you blush” —Wapu–the beautiful bush down under).
The utility of funny is far easier to explain than the nature of it, however, and probably easier than explaining the utility of beauty–which is otherwise quite as easy to experience directly as the utility of funny. Neither the laughter at funny nor the ahhh! at beauty require understanding to be effective, i.e., either pleasing or useful (usually both).
To beauty, pleasure, & funny, any full service L-O-L provider wants to be useful, i.e., deliver the prospect of some value-added in ability, power, strength, &/or functional know-how that helps accomplish, do or achieve something worthwhile.
Some might call increased utility an aspect of wisdom, a by-product of knowing, but let’s not nit-pick. Utility can just as easily be considered an aspect of beauty, e.g., Helen’s power to launch a thousand ships, Aphrodite’s ability to hawk a thousand nighties, the planetarium’s ability to fill a thousand seats nightly.
The value of beauty transcends its bottom line. “Beauty is more directly functional than truth, more lasting than pleasure, more useful than utility,” one redundant poet claimed, “grappling with knots of confused form.” (Fortunately, his work & name are now forgotten.)
Nevertheless, there was a point there, in that each shining virtue reflects the faces of its cousins, however crudely at times, as when reversing their directions in a mirror. We may find wisdom observing the ugly, cruel, wasteful, & ignorant for what they are, without window dressing, in other words, & beauty in nuts, nourishment in pleasure, and healing in laughter, as well as vice versa. Lots of vice versa.
the value of the unknown
It’s been said, “you don’t miss what you’ve never known,” but do we really know that, or really not know? What if we need not know what we’re missing to feel that we’re missing, as in the old folk refrain, “I’m missing now, but I won’t be missing long”?
The idea of the unknown has driven scientific inquiry, research, observation & experiment from the beginning. All discovery depends on it–& has always depended on it. Hardly anything is known without it–or knowable. The discovery of “the unknown” may be considered one of the major milestones in the evolution of life & mind, representing a new birth for the reflective self, the origin of the inquiring I.
The nature of the unknown has not only changed over the eons, but continues to be constantly changing, at what may always look like an escalating rate. Where yesterday’s astronomer saw essentially nothing, today’s sees the existence of dark matter & dark energy, i.e., completely unknown kinds of matter & energy making up most of the unknown universe. As Albert Mimestein reportedly asked Steven Squawking, “Don’t you think it a bit strange that most of the known universe is made up of what’s unknown?”
Here at the Bod L-O-L, we have our virtual hands full missing what we’ve already forgotten, to worry much about the unknowns we have yet to discover–personal decrepitude & departure aside. As far as we’re concerned, then, it remains to be proven, or disproven, whether you miss what you’ve never known unless you can identify what it is.
It’s hard to test, in other words, even with the double-blind blindfolds now available. Fortunately, testing is something PIPA members know a crapload about. [Note on the fly: Otto Ed just tried to change crapload to crippled, but we fought back–& again in these brackets! What a world. We haven’t been counting, but we’d guess that, at least in our case, far more often than Otto Ed fixes typos, he/she/it introduces new mistakes by mis-correcting what was meant as given.]
As a result, we’ve already opened a Testing Room, where, among other things, you can test your taste against everyone else’s. Eventually, you’ll find pre-tests, post-tests, post-hole tests, sense tests, & lack of sense tests, as well as comprehensive incomprehension aptitude, achievement, & lack of attention assessment batteries; Idioms for Morons; tongue-twisting mime-audio twitter-free testes tests; & even perhaps whine tastings.
If there’s anything more useful than a good test (besides a good love, a good laugh, a good meal & a good crap) we don’t know what it is.*
* It’s sometimes said, “Nothing is more effective,” but in head to head comparisons, most people find “laughing” more effective than testing & nothing put together. Scientists at the Rosy View Institute say that laughter may rival the best placebos in effectiveness, and as everyone knows, placebos almost always out-perform nothing, in addition to their pharmacological competition.**
** Whether aimed at attitude adjustment directly between the eyes or seeking it indirectly, as by-product of peripheral intelligence, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better partner in your healing efforts than partner with Placebo Pharma.***
*** Speaking of hard-pressings, we hear that the latest batches of Alice’s Inn Cider are simply “out of this world!” –Footnote Advertising
“A juglette a day keeps the undertaker away.” –Alice’s Inn Cider (Hard, Soft or Mushy)
“Free jugs & cheap buckets for wake-holders & cremation recipients.” –Ashtag Mortuary & Get Over It Funeral Parlor (“where happy hour never runs out of clock”).
[Whew! Worn out. Many chapters have gone by to here. Chapters following, below, haven’t even been read over once yet, & we advise you to keep it that way until we get back….
If you do fare forward, be sure to start fresh, carry plenty of water, and stop to rest while doubled over. Go, or not, at your own risk, of course.]
Mission-Method-Means: service—endless resonance—inkless pixels…
The mission, method & madness of a “library” seems easier to sum up than the multiple missions, purposes, methods, means, & particulars of all it contains, including its books, papers, films, tapes, microfiche, artworks, bottle collections, meeting-rooms, lavatories, cubicles, niches, herb gardens, card catalogs, slot machines, self-reference mirrors, funhouse mazes, “pool tables & electric chairs” (a traveling display), virtual students, scholar avatars, & imaginary staff….
It is to contain these, & make them accessible to those interested, whether they be browsers, adventurers, seekers or disoriented stumblers caught in the act of discovering the surprising pleasure of the astoundingly absurd.
Who are we to say whether what’s contained be wise, beautiful, goofy, nuts, inexpressibly profound, &/or in the eye-nose-ear-&/or-throat of the beholder? Presumably, if the Bod L-O-L is at all like other libraries, there’s some of each, & up to you to choose, with imaginary librarians-on-locoweed standing by to assist where necessary.
To qualify for admission to the Bod L-O-L’s Annex for Humor & Media, content should be:
—–relating to media,
—–coming from a member of the Peninsula Independent Press Association;
—–appear in The Mirror-Times-Mirror, or some other organ with or without margins;
—–walking in to look & read of your own volition.
We reserve the right to serve no slaves, zombies, nay-nays or no-sayers
Whether serving you tennis balls at blinding speed, luau in bed at Alice’s Oahu Inn, or a subpoena to appear before Judge Knott (in the case of the People v. Hangem High), The M T Mirror-Times-Mirror.net reports on the world as it sees, hears, smells, thinks, ruminates, reconsiders, imagines, refracts, re views previews, revises reviews, &, finally, retracts.
Its creative staff of imaginary reporters, editors, researchers, footnote, copywriters, & ad bookers (some of whom may also take bets on the side) remain mindful of the fact that they & The Mirror-Times-Mirror participate in the worlds observed, described & interpreted; debunked, debriefed & defaced; represented, misinterpreted & reconsidered; advertised & represented in community features. The final step–retraction–rests on the help of irate readers moonlighting as media critics getting staff to read its scraps as if for the first time.
“That writer is a fool who has him- (or her) self as editor publisher, reader, subscriber, advertiser, critic, judge, jury & executioner,” said one such fool. “If that goes without saying, it also goes without –pants; –mask; –repeating; –multiple choice; –non sequiturs,” added the Lack of Incomprehension Testing Department.
By tomorrow (or next edition, whichever comes first), the world will have moved on, in any case, with & without us, pants, & sequiturs or not, even if not quite in ways or directions we might have preferred &/or predicted. The world we cover isn’t static, & neither are we–except for our radio broadcasts during lightning storms. [KNUMb keeps a supply of Emergency Broadcast Interruption Signs on hand for such surprises, as well as a direct underground light-cable connection to Peninsula Emergency’s Radio Mime for periods when fried audio transmitters go completely on the fritz.]
If yesterday’s news is “old hat,” at least old hats are sometimes the best kind, well broken in, sometimes even more than the odd old heads wearing them. Circuit-breaking & entering aside, the process of breaking a story often brings up sausage making as well as haberdashery. Today’s talking heads are often asked to put hats on sausages, though some distinguished journalists still value their time more highly than their images as pitchmen (& women), when time is part of their beat (along with life, chance & fortune).
If reporting is, as claimed, the first fast-version of history, then history is the slow 2nd draft of journalism, always lagging the events, and may include notes filed in the reporter’s “archives” or in what papers calls their “morgues.”
Not that the morgue’s the end of the story, at least at The M T Mirror, where the “Physics of Endless Resonance” kicks in. At the heart of mirror-times-mirror technology, the post-morgue PER (as physicists & feline-fanciers call the Physics of Endless Resonance & Repetition) makes our Review, Revise & Retraction process possible, keeping yesterday’s stories as fresh tomorrow as the day they were sent to the morgue, buried, burned & scattered. If & when they lose that freshness, we eventually notice, and when we can’t stand it any more, throw em out, or use them as gags when we tie up our readers.
It doesn’t take a doctorate in neurological economics to realize that something “not worth the paper it’s printed on” may represent a quite different value proposition without the costs of paper, ink & printing, thus radically lowering the cost of delivery without expensive packaging, or any packaging at all. With tangible costs approaching zero at the margins, the ability to add value through time potentially increases. Still, adding value is not a one-way street.
“The more we cut, the better we get.” –Editors Anonymous
Those interested in such things may find Pastures-Of-Plenty on our PEON page, where Pop’s Eye On News offers eyeball rolling exhibits on a rotating, revolving, & often revolting basis. Named for the Bod Library’s first founder, Pops Bods, publisher of The Mayan Daily Stella, the PEON page plans to feature the latest takes on timeless issues like spaceless thought transport & how media mistranslates events in transmission. Pops Bods had a hand, foot & eye in the freshly polished field of mistranslation in transmission, as outlined in An Invisible Life in Media (Transparent Press, “a TP Classic,” available by roll or sheet), his posthumous (some say post-humorous) autobiography, ghost-written under a pseudonym.
[This now hard-to-find work follows Pops Bod’s journey from student sports reporter to Wall Street Urinal intern; bullfight film extra & Spanish stage beard in Lope de Vega’s Malaga Trilogy to jazz radio news announcer & literary magazine advisor; people-to-people international correspondent in the Boonies to educational & market-simulation game designer on the far-kurt fringe; from scholarly journal reviewer & conference presenter in professional societies to free lance contributor of poetry, humorous fillers, articles, treasure hunts, wedding ceremonies, stage shticks, & radio extravaganza; from traveling presenter, speaker, & stage performer to amateur newsletter writer-editor-multiple-personality-ventriloquist-mime; from cradle to his high position as Bod Library’s Chief of Gravitational Field Janitorial Services, i.e., “dude in charge of this mess.”]
The Mirror-Times-Mirror delivers light right to your eyeballs. We used to say, “Leave a crack open for us,” before our Circulation Dept. added Virtual Eyeball Technology. Now The Mirror management maintains a relatively “crack free” work environment.
Virtual Nose Technology is just over the horizon, we’re told. We’re not sure we’re sorry to miss it, truth be told. Who knows what Chemical Stink, Inc. will dish out, at what expense to organic sense?
Where “scratch’n sniff” is involved, we prefer the old fashioned, natural & organic. The same goes for “touch’n taste,” also quite lacking in digital domains, where digit-licking lags audio-visual realms by many generations. A foggy image or squishy audio leave one wanting better, but bad taste & smelly chemical substitutes can make you seriously sick, even if some call them smart (as in the iSmel, iStink & other pocket devices with an explosive portfolio of hydrogen sulfides & rotten eggs). Where taste, smell & illusions of touch are involved, only our WHRB Wireless Home Radio-Brain (the Wholly Riki-Bod network) delivers, truth be told.
As for the phrase, “truth be told,” why wouldn’t it be? Saying Truth be told doesn’t necessarily make it so, we admit. Some publications tell it like it was & some like it wasn’t, some with slant & some with spin, some with slop in garbage bin. We do our best & our worst, therefore, to counter each slant with a contrary twist, complementing each extreme with its counterpart, each contrarian opinion with its anti-contrarian corollary, each inconsistent position with its self-contradiction. If we’re not telling it like it is, we’re trying to tell it like it should be. Otherwise, we tell you “We’re not,” as here.
The same may be said for timeless truths like “As above so below,” which on reflection may also be phrased, “As below, so above.” The point is, if there were one, you would not know which was which from most conventional sources, which generally avoid worlds above & below, as well as those at diagonals, tangents, &/or must be shelled to get at the nuts, peas or yolks.
———–The Mirror Times Mirror Building
In our case, The Mirror Times Mirror Building is located at the heart of Mirror-Times-Mirror Plaza-Square, smack in the crotch of the Big Fork where countless roads converge in beautiful downtown Periphery Center. According to tradition, folklore & legend, one branch of the original fork goes to the place of truth-tellers (at one time a university without walls, built where nature had been the great teacher, with students at both ends of its log bench) while the other went to government & corporate offices, political & public relations headquarters, advertising & lobbying firms, promotional organizations, and the like.
The original fork (as distinct from the public roadways which slant across streets & avenues but not through buildings) cuts through what is now the Mirror-Times-Mirror Building, winds & coils through its core, & branches, one direction to the Short Attention Span Bridge, another to the Love Tunnel. Some observers think the main job of M- T- Mirror journalists housed in the crotch of that fork is to sniff out which path is which to separate truth from distortion, fact from fiction, fiction from fraction, fraction from faction, & factions from their actions, as if that were possible.
Nevertheless, we do our best to distinguish genuine truth-tellers from mere triers, and both of these from those tactical packagers who sometimes tell the truth, incidentally, but only when it happens to serve their interests.
M T Mirror reporters have one primary assignment: cover everything surprising/ beautiful/ useful/ &/or funny in the entire universe, but leave the boring parts out….
It’s up to you to decide how well we succeed. Website delivery now includes free non-delivery at the same low price–currently $0, with “none cheaper, as low as it gets without we pay for your eyeballs” on its masthead. (Our news division has a more or less firm policy of not paying for eyeballs, “unless there’s a compelling reason to contradict our better judgment.”)
In a small shop operation like ours, the same person may switch hats–editor’s one moment, ad manager’s the next, then bill collector, bill payer, janitor next. If there’s anything left over, we may play news staffer, in-house critic, reviewer, & circulation director, then personnel trainer, independent auditor, upper management consultant & basement intern, all encouraged to work together for the common good, the good of stockholders, stakeholders, & the whole Dang Peninsula, even the planet, the galaxy, the best possible universe available to us at the moment….
I laughed so hard I wet my pants
would be music to our ears.
I laughed so hard, I had to dance
could to my eyes bring tears.
We’d be astounded you got so far,
with doo-doo deep & thick as tar,
with standards so low & irregular,
they moonlight at the Limbo Bar.
A bar that goes no lower
without a trap door in the floor.
Down the hatch & out the core
to the country of No More, No Moor!
PS: Yours Crudely knows this is:
a) too much; b)bull; c) completely ridiculous;
d) deeper than all but the most dedicated spelunker may ever want to plunge;
e) excessive, extra, etc.; f) free fall folly;
g) a poor substitute for Gigi’s G-Spot (an ad for which to follow);
h) neither rhyme nor reason….
[Although some places have rhyme without reason, & others reason with no rhyme, most have neither. If you’ve laughed at all, however, perhaps the reason’s been fulfilled. If Yours Crudely has laughed while writing, or more likely re-writing, then all the better. That was reason enough. The rest is gravy.]
“The first reason of the Creator was to laugh.”
——————Saying of the Salami Clan
“If you wanna be happy, listen to th emusic.
If you wanna be sad, listen to the words.”
“The Tower of Bagels now offers a choice between the Leaning Tower of Pizza’s Big Dripper (a cheesy hIcky with purple pepperoni), the Hanging Garden’s Babylonian bologni in a pocket pita & the Panamaniac Canal Zone’s Erogenous Lox with Scream Squeeze.”
——————Menu Page, Translating Babble to Babel, from an ad in The Daily Boble
In All the Books in the Ancient Boble, boblical scholar J. B. Frikker claims many of the original volumes had ads, sometimes tucked in psalms & inspiring verses. With no Glass-Seagull Act to separate paid content from original inspiration (which Claude called “the voice of Claude,” & sometimes Claudette, too), Frikker maintains, the old prophets, seers & judges accepted both content-advertising & ads with content. Nor were they averse to “just sexy enough,” which they considered “attracting the gaze, not rubbing your face in it.”
“All shekels half off during the holidays,” says one psalm still (in The Psalms of Simon & Garfunkel, revised standard edition). Among the orthodox, this was a mute point, since everyone was off during this time, with neither shops nor banks open.
NEWS FLASH TO THE HEAD EDITOR–AD ARRIVING:
Speaking of ads,
The Paradise Insanitorium, now featuring Drs. Glitch, Zilch & Fakakta, a leading refuge for patients with gambling issues–offers complete treatment half off for a short time only.
“For the Craziest Time of Your Life!”
Let yourself GO!
Go for the Gold, Hi Yo Silver, Blue Ribbon & Brass Ring!
You’ll check yourself into a room with a view
of the Snake Eyes Casino, just spitting distance from
the beautiful downwind lip of Bottomless Pit Chasm–
where young lovers & newlyweds merge their spit,
pledging their bonds will last longer than it takes
to get to the bottom; divorcees toss their rings
with a phlegm chaser; bulemics toss their cookies,
along with their bags, cups & plates; commandos
have been said to toss grenades with their underwear–;
jugglers their balls & chainsaws; teachers their lesson plans
& standardized tests; soon-to-be ex-terrorists their testes;
& art directors their soup-can advertising porta potties.
Lookout below–Scenic Vista: you are here,
(Look up or down at your own risk.)
We are proud to be part of the National Deconstruction,
Daily Re-vitalization & Bowel Movement….
[to be continued…] [Oh, no, oh, no…]
NO BOTTOM IN SIGHT: We still need to give our No News Magazine linkers a room their own–[to follow]…