Must Make Joke

I think that there are certain situations where there are really only one or two jokes that you can make. I think photos that accompany blog pages, or now twitter pages, is just such a situation.

I heard on my favorite podcast (Galactic Watercooler), that Brent Spiner has a crazy twitter thing going where he sometimes doles out a line from a story he is spinning one twitter at a time. Indeed, he does. But he also has the above photo of himself. I think it's the overly serious and overly profound author photograph that I have on my blog as well.

It reminds me of one of my favorite David Sedaris stories (that I think I've referred to already): He goes into a novelty store and sees a jar of eyeballs on the counter. He immediately goes to grab an eyeball when he sees a sign reading, "Do not hold the fake eyes up to your real eyes," which is exactly what he was going to do.

Then again, there's something comforting in arriving at the same joke as other people. I like to think that me and Brent Spiner might have a similar sense of humor. I will admit that Spiner pulled this one off better than I did. Holding the glasses is the perfect touch. I didn't think of that.

The only other kind of joke photograph that you would use for a blog or twitter would be a picture of you eating something. Maybe cereal.

An Expression for All Occasions

My wife has a friend who, like her, is a poultry enthusiast. She will often drive him to the local poultry swap that takes place every month. Paul is in his late seventies and is an atheist. He is very critical of organized religion and takes notice whenever a minister or evangelist gets caught up in some kind of scandal, which only reinforces his belief that religion is a sham.

The poultry swap takes place on a Sunday morning, and Krista will sometimes call Paul up and ask if he wants to "go to church." She really means the poultry swap, but sometimes Paul will be thinking of real church and he responds with one of his favorite expressions. He says, "I'll go to church...up a raccoon's ass."

I've been thinking that this expression is extremely versatile and that I could modify it to fit all kinds of situations.

Sure, I'll go to the committee meeting...up a raccoon's ass. You want me to come to your wine tasting party? A weekly staff meeting, you say? Oh, you're having a brainstorming session down the hall? Teambuilding retreat? I'll go to your teambuilding retreat...up a raccoon's ass.

As I dissect the expression, I think it's a variation on the old proverb that a camel can pass through the eye of a needle sooner than a rich man can pass through the gates of heaven. If I know my scriptures, I believe that's from Ephesians, somewhere around chapter 30 or 40.

Though I suspect that they cleaned it up for the Bible. The common saying at the time would start with one guy asking, "Can a rich man go to heaven?" His friend would reply, with much sarcasm, "Sure, a rich man can go to heaven...up a camel's ass."

He Answered the Final Summons

As I was reading a 1909 newspaper today, I noticed how they really jazzed up the obituaries back then. One I saw today for a guy we'll call Ezekiel Fuchs had the headline: Ezekiel Fuchs Answered the Final Summons.

It seemed a bit poetic but also a bit morbid. Saying that he answered the final summons conjures up an image of a guy walking out a door one last time or punching a clock or something like that. It far surpasses the literal: Ezekiel Fuchs Died of a Heart Attack or Ezekiel Fuchs Died in His Sleep Last Night. About one thousand times better than Ezekiel Fuchs Passed Away.

To me, the phrase "passed away" conjures up the image of someone vanishing, but sort of slowly vanishing. The obituaries of olden times didn't sugarcoat death that way. I have even seen obituaries make reference to the Grim Reaper, such as Reaper Calls On Ezekiel Fuchs. I'm also reminded of Hudsucker Proxy when the company announces over the loudspeakers: "At noon today, Wering Hudsucker merged with the infinite." Rather than sweep death under the rug, they made it into a bit of a dramatic event.

Not to mention those who died violently could count on having the details of their death described vividly. The paper included many accounts of cave ins and slate falls in the mines not to mention bizarre accidents in the brickyards and the tin mills. It was not unusual for the first line of a news item to include the phrase "skull crushed." One I saw today ended on a comforting note: coworkers examined the body and determined that the man was killed instantly.

It also seemed like deaths could be dramatic but not at all heroic. Ezekiel Fuchs Defeated by Illness. Then they'll give details about the person's health leading up to their death. Fuchs suffered from the grip for three months. He continually weakened until he was bedridden by February. Finally, he succumbed on March 15.

One bizarre story I read today was about an automobile terrifying a horse. An elderly couple were riding in their buggy on the way to Steubenville, I think, and when an approaching car startled their horse, they were thrown from the buggy. The woman was thrown into a barbed wire fence. The story finished with: It will be months before she is able to go out again.

Certainly some harsh shit going down back in 1909, but I liked how they looked at the brutal realities square on. Maybe I should try to write my own obituary at some point. Perhaps something like: Martin Exits World.