January 2007

-- Posted by OtterVomit on Wednesday, January 31 2007

DANCE OF THE SHAT

TV Star, Movie Star, Singer, Pitchman, and now inspiration for Ballet - William Shatner does it all. The Milwaukee Ballet has announced it will premiere "Common People" a ballet choreographed to the Shat's recent album 'Has Been'. The dance will be one of three parts of "Premieres of Passionate Dance" being performed this Valentines Day weekend (February 15-18). In a WKTI radio interview Shatner was quite enthusiastic about the event, saying "I have a life long devotion - more than an interest, less than an obsession, with the ballet and to have this happen to me is so exciting." Shatner said that he would try to make it to Milwaukee to see the ballet if he can fit it between shootings of his show Boston Legal.

-- Posted by OtterVomit on Thursday, January 25 2007

38-34 -- Posted by BalconyDive on Monday, January 22 2007


Where ya goin'?

you don't say -- Posted by BalconyDive on Monday, January 22 2007

Another year, another playoffs, another patriots game, another reason to hate.

-- Posted by BalconyDive on Saturday, January 20 2007

The Beast From the East

September 1, 1961 – January 19, 2007

-- Posted by BalconyDive on Tuesday, January 16 2007

Have you ever walked out of a place and known you were going to get a job? I mean KNOWN it. Those people god damn loved you.

Then nothing?

Bah.

*salutes* -- Posted by OtterVomit on Tuesday, January 16 2007

BAD WEBMASTER, BAD!

Somehow I let last week pass without recognizing the anniversary of the death of Joshua Norton, the first and only Emperor of the United States! As punishment I will taser myself until a nice foamy froth erupts from my mouth!

But before I convulse upon the floor, let's move along to

REMEMBERING EMPEROR NORTON I, EMPEROR OF THE UNITED STATES AND PROTECTOR OF MEXICO

Nobody really knows when Joshua Norton was born but general eggheads with nothing better to ponder, such as myself, agree that it was sometime around 1815 in England. In 1849 Norton inherited $40,000 from his father and moved to San Francisco where he started a highly successful real estate firm and quickly accumulated a fortune. A ban on exporting rice in China caused the price of rice in San Francisco to skyrocket, and Norton saw a new way to extend his fortune....or so he thought. Norton got wind that an entire shipload of rice was coming in from Peru, and he put every cent into buying all of the rice - in effect monopolizing the rice market. Unfortunately, a ton of other ships rolled in from Peru all carrying rice and the price of rice fell very quickly. Norton, disgraced and broke, filed bankruptcy in 1858. He imposed upon himself a self-exile from San Francisco, the terms of which were known only to him.

Whatever the conditions were, however, he must of met them. Norton returned to San Francisco and was dismayed at the social and political situations in the city. On September 17, 1859 Norton took matters into his own hands and wrote to various newspapers declaring himself Emperor of the United States:



At the peremptory request and desire of a large majority of the citizens of these United States, I, Joshua Norton, formerly of Algoa Bay, Cape of Good Hope, and now for the last 9 years and 10 months past of S. F., Cal., declare and proclaim myself Emperor of these U. S.; and in virtue of the authority thereby in me vested, do hereby order and direct the representatives of the different States of the Union to assemble in Musical Hall, of this city, on the 1st day of Feb. next, then and there to make such alterations in the existing laws of the Union as may ameliorate the evils under which the country is laboring, and thereby cause confidence to exist, both at home and abroad, in our stability and integrity.
NORTON I, Emperor of the United States.


The powers that be at the various newspapers were amused and printed the declaration, and thus commenced Norton's bizarre 21-year reign over the city of San Francisco and the United States!

His days from then-on consisted of inspecting the streets of San Francisco in an elaborate blue uniform with tarnished gold-plated epaulets, given to him by officers of the United States Army post at the Presidio of San Francisco, and wearing a beaver hat decorated with a peacock feather and a rosette. Norton would occasionally issue decrees on public policy which he would send to the same newspapers which first carried his ascension to the throne. On October 12, 1859, he issued a decree that formally "dissolved" the United States Congress. He also observed that:

...fraud and corruption prevent a fair and proper expression of the public voice; that open violation of the laws are constantly occurring, caused by mobs, parties, factions and undue influence of political sects; that the citizen has not that protection of person and property which he is entitled.

Norton also issued orders for the United States Army to arrest all elected officials in the United States. Norton's decrees, of course, had no effect but he nonetheless continued his royal work with vigor.

On another occasion, the failure to refer to his adopted home city with appropriate respect was the subject of a particularly stern edict in 1872:

Whoever after due and proper warning shall be heard to utter the abominable word "Frisco", which has no linguistic or other warrant, shall be deemed guilty of a High Misdemeanor, and shall pay into the Imperial Treasury as penalty the sum of twenty-five dollars.

Among Norton's many edicts were instructions to form a League of Nations, and he explicitly forbade any form of discord or conflict between religions or their sects. The Emperor also saw fit on a number of occasions to decree the construction of a suspension bridge connecting Oakland and San Francisco, his later decrees becoming increasingly irritated at the lack of prompt obedience being exhibited by the authorities:

WHEREAS, we issued our decree ordering the citizens of San Francisco and Oakland to appropriate funds for the survey of a suspension bridge from Oakland Point via Goat Island; also for a tunnel; and to ascertain which is the best project; and whereas the said citizens have hitherto neglected to notice our said decree; and whereas we are determined our authority shall be fully respected; now, therefore, we do hereby command the arrest by the army of both the Boards of City Fathers if they persist in neglecting our decrees.
Given under our royal hand and seal at San Francisco, this 17th day of September, 1872.


This decree, unlike most, was eventually carried out; construction of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge began in 1933 and was completed in 1936. BART's Transbay Tube was completed in 1969 and opened in 1972.

During his patrols through the streets, Norton would examine the condition of the sidewalks and cable cars, the state of repair of public property, the appearance of police officers, and attend to the needs of his subjects as they arose. He would frequently give lengthy philosophical expositions on a variety of topics to anyone within earshot at the time, sometimes just rambling on about some subject on the street corner while flailing his arms.

During an anti-Chinese riot, Norton is alleged to have positioned himself between the rioters and their Chinese targets, and with a bowed head began to recite the Lord's Prayer repeatedly. Shamed, the rioters dispersed without incident.

Norton became beloved and revered by the citizens of San Francisco. Although penniless, he regularly frequented the finest restaurants in San Francisco, paying for the meals with his own currency that he had printed himself. Surprisingly this currency was accepted and at times even preferred over the unstable American dollar due to its collector value. The proprietors of area business establishments took it upon themselves to add brass plaques in their entrances that declared "By Appointment to his Imperial Majesty, Emperor Norton I of the United States." This vanity appears to have been tolerated without complaint by Norton. By all accounts, such "Imperial seals of approval" were much prized and a substantial boost to trade for such businesses. Likewise, no play or musical performance in San Francisco would dare to open without reserving balcony seats for Norton and his two mongrel dogs, Lazarus and Bummer. As a side note, the death of Lazarus, in an 1863 accident with a vehicle belonging to the Fire Department of San Francisco, led to a period of public mourning. Thousands of San Franciscans followed Lazurus to his grave where he was buried as a ward of the city. In 1865, when Bummer died, Mark Twain was sufficiently moved to write an epitaph for the Imperial Canine, saying that he'd died "full of years, and honor, and disease, and fleas."

During this time, a real life meeting with Emperor Pedro II of Brazil added prestige to his throne.

ROYAL SCANDAL

A scandal occurred in 1867 when a rookie police officer new to the town by the name of Armand Barbier arrested Norton, for the purpose of committing him to involuntary treatment for a mental disorder. This caused monumental outrage amongst the citizens of San Francisco and sparked a number of scathing editorials in the newspapers. Police Chief Patrick Crowley speedily rectified matters by ordering the "Emperor" released and issuing a formal apology on behalf of the Police Force. The Chief observed of the self-styled monarch "that he had shed no blood; robbed no one; and despoiled no country; which is more than can be said of his fellows in that line." Norton was magnanimous enough to grant an "Imperial Pardon" to the errant young police officer. Possibly as a result of this scandal, all police officers of San Francisco thereafter would salute Norton as he passed in the street.

As Norton's fame grew, so did the rumors. One popular story suggested that the emperor was planning to marry Queen Victoria. Another rumor was that Norton was in fact supremely wealthy, and only pretended to be impoverished. In addition to rumors, a number of fraudulent decrees began to pop up in newspapers. Editors had come to know that decrees meant big business as everyone flocked to see what Norton had to say next and started offering up their own concoctions. This displeased the Emperor to no end.

THE DEATH OF A KING

On the evening of January 8, 1880, Joshua Norton collapsed on the corner of California Street and Dupont Street (now Grant Avenue) while on his way to a lecture at the Academy of Sciences. His collapse was immediately noticed by another citizen who raised the alarm, and "the police officer on the beat hastened for a carriage to convey him to the City Receiving Hospital." Norton died before the carriage could arrive.

The following day the San Francisco Chronicle published his obituary on its front page under the headline "Le Roi est Mort" ("the King is Dead"). In a tone tinged with sadness, the article respectfully reported that, "On the reeking pavement, in the darkness of a moon-less night under the dripping rain..., Norton I, by the grace of God, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico, departed this life". The Morning Call, another leading San Francisco newspaper, published a front-page article using an almost identical sentence as a headline: "Norton the First, by the grace of God Emperor of these United States and Protector of Mexico, departed this life."

Contrary to the rumors, it quickly became evident that Norton had died in complete poverty, and his entire estate amounted to no more than a few dollars. What they found on his person was astounding. In Norton's pocket were a series of telegrams purported to be from Emperor Alexander II of Russia, who congratulated him on his forthcoming marriage to Queen Victoria; and from the President of France, who told him that such a union would be disastrous to world peace. Found in his home was his ongoing correspondence with Queen Victoria.

Initial funeral arrangements had a pauper's coffin produced for Norton, but the town became outraged. A funeral fund was set up and raised a sufficient amount to purchase a handsome rosewood casket and arranged a suitably dignified farewell. Reports indicated that respects were paid "by all classes from capitalists to the pauper, the clergyman to the pickpocket, well-dressed ladies and those whose garb and bearing hinted of the social outcast." Norton's funeral was a solemn, mournful and large affair, unprecedented for its day. Some accounts report that as many as 30,000 people lined the streets to pay homage, and that the funeral cortege was two miles long. He was buried at the Masonic Cemetery, at the expense of the City of San Francisco. The day after his funeral, January 11, 1880, the San Francisco skies were blackened with a solar eclipse.

In 1934, Norton's remains were transferred, again at the expense of the City of San Francisco, to a grave-site of moderate splendor at Woodlawn Cemetery, in Colma. His story faded somewhat after his death, and his grave site was marked by a small worn stone; however, his story became more popular during the 1960s and once again the City of San Francisco honored their Emperor with a lavish new stone. His present gravestone refers to him as "Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico."

In January 1980, numerous ceremonies and memorials were conducted in San Francisco to honor the 100th anniversary of the passing of the one and only "Emperor of the United States."

Norton's proclamations promoting a bridge between San Francisco and Oakland were commemorated on Tuesday, December 14, 2004, when the San Francisco Board of Supervisors approved a resolution calling for the new span of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge to be named after Norton.

There's snakes in the motherfucking plane, Jaque!! -- Posted by OtterVomit on Tuesday, January 9 2007

The World's Favorite Action Hero is Back! Indiana Jones to Start Production in 2007

In a long-awaited announcement, George Lucas and Steven Spielberg revealed today that the fourth installment of Indiana Jones will begin production in June 2007. Harrison Ford returns in his role as the daring Dr. Jones for the new adventure. The film will be produced by Lucasfilm Ltd., directed by Steven Spielberg and released by Paramount Pictures throughout the world in May 2008.

The screenplay has been written by David Koepp.

Spielberg states "George, Harrison and I are all very excited. We feel that the script was well worth the wait. We hope it delivers everything you'd expect from our history with Indiana Jones."

The film will be produced by Frank Marshall with George Lucas and Kathy Kennedy as executive producers. "Working with Steven, Frank, Kathy and the Indy crew is like working with family," states Lucas. "These films are such great fun to make. I'm looking forward to reuniting with the team and starting this new journey."

The film has plenty of action in store for the rogue archeologist. Harrison Ford comments "I'm delighted to be back in business with my old friends. I don't know if the pants still fit but I know the hat will. "

It will be shot on undisclosed locations around the world as well as in the United States.

For more than 25 years, audiences have been enraptured by the exploits of Indiana Jones. The film trilogy -- Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade --garnered 14 Academy Award nominations, won 7 Oscars, and grossed over $1,182,000,000 at the box office. The films are among the most popular films ever made and have become a legendary part of film history.

-- Posted by OtterVomit on Tuesday, January 9 2007

JURY DUTY

The System Prepares to Fail Again!




A very big thank you -- Posted by OtterVomit on Sunday, January 7 2007

Nikola Tesla died in Manhattan, on this day, January 7, 1943 in New York City at Hotel New Yorker.

Tesla's impact on our civilization is tremendous, and his memory should be kept alive. Rest assured that if Nikola Tesla had been an American born citizen with an American name, he would have been remembered as one of the greatest, if not the single greatest scientist of all time. Instead due to our egocentric nature the average American has no clue who this great man was and think "Golly gee whiz thanks Thomas Edison," whenever they turn on anything electrical.

Tesla was ahead of his time in more ways than just his science. Tesla was very sensitive to all the senses. He could hear a clock ticking three rooms away. He had "visions" as he put it "sudden bursts of energy". Ordinary people thought him strange; he easily recognized that the monetary system holds humans back. He could not understand why human beings could not put aside their huge quest for profit and personal gain and instead concentrate on helping each other. Tesla knew that the world is full of energy; and natural energy which is now called ELF or extra-low-frequency energy; is what he played around with. This is energy which exists as the Earth is like a giant generator in space; and properly harnessed this could provide us all with unlimited energy for our needs without needing to burn coal or use nuclear fission to produce electricity. Tesla discovered ways to power his Alternating Current power stations with ELF technology, but could find no one willing to fund the building of free power sources. Tesla was also one of the first scientists to talk about outer space and possible life out there; which in the 1890's was considered as a sign of madness.

Tesla once said that we are like people in a boat, in a fresh water river, who are dying of thirst because we do not know how to scoop up the water from the sides of the boat. How right he was. We can't get over ourselves enough to even try.

Tesla has somehow been written out of the history books but invented among other things the Fluorescent light, Robotics, the car coil (spark plug), and ultra high speed electrical switches, Alternating Current Alternators, and Alternating current generation/transmission. His "Tesla coil" is used today in labs around the world, and is used for things like detecting leaks in vacuum apparatus. In 1899, two years before Marconi sent radio across the Atlantic, Tesla had built remote radio-controlled toy boats. Marconi worked for Tesla in Tesla's own lab. Tesla was obsessed with energy as a form of power, while Marconi only wanted to explore the prospect of transmitting energy as a form of communication. Today Tesla is recognized in the scientific community as the true inventor of radio, but history lessons have yet to get the memo. The worlds first Alternating Current power station was built in the late 1800's at Niagara Falls in the U.S. by Tesla with the backing of George Westinghouse and J.P. Morgan, the famous financier. Tesla made a rambling speech at the opening of the plant about how it should have been built earlier and about missed opportunities and left the audience thinking that the man was crazy. Tesla was a very unique person, who rejected fame and wealth, and freely gave away his ideas via public science lectures, rather than employing the secrecy and courtroom patent-battles of fellow inventors.. Edison was furious when the Niagara station opened - his D.C. power plants now being discredited - and began a scare campaign and rumor mill to discredit Tesla and destroy Westinghouse. Alternating Current meant the end of Edison's power distribution system which was based on Direct Current. Only Tesla's bailing out Westinghouse saved him, but as a result Tesla was completely broke, and died alone, completely disillusioned, in a hotel room wondering what the hell was wrong with mankind.

The Greatest Story Every Written -- Posted by OtterVomit on Wednesday, January 3 2007

Journalism in Tennessee

by Mark Twain

The editor of the Memphis Avalanche swoops thus mildly down upon a correspondent who posted him as a radical:

"While he was writing the first word, the middle, dotting his i's, crossing his t's, and punching his period, he knew he was concocting a sentence that was saturated with infamy and reeking with falsehood." - Exchange.

I was told by the physician that a Southern climate would improve my health, and so I went down to Tennessee, and got a berth on the Morning Glory and Johnson County War-Whoop as associate editor. When I went on duty I found the chief editor sitting tilted back in a three-legged chair with his feet on a pine table. There was another pine table in the room and another afflicted chair, and both were half buried under newspapers and scraps and sheets of manuscript. There was a wooden box of sand, sprinkled with cigar stubs and "old soldiers," and a stove with a door hanging by its upper hinge. The chief editor had a long-tailed black cloth frock-coat on, and white linen pants. His boots were small and neatly blacked. He wore a ruffled shirt, a large seal-ring, a standing collar of obsolete pattern, and a checkered neckerchief with the ends hanging down. Date of costume about 1848. He was smoking a cigar, and trying to think of a word, and in pawing his hair he had rumpled his locks a good deal. He was scowling fearfully, and I judged that he was concocting a particularly knotty editorial. He told me to take the exchanges and skim through them and write up the "Spirit of the Tennessee Press," condensing into the article all of their contents that seemed of interest.

I wrote as follows:

SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS

The editors of the Semi-Weekly Earthquake evidently labor under a misapprehension with regard to the Dallyhack railroad. It is not the object of the company to leave Buzzardville off to one side. On the contrary, they consider it one of the most important points along the line, and consequently can have no desire to slight it. The gentlemen of the Earthquake will, of course, take pleasure in making the correction.

John W. Blossom, Esq., the able editor of the Higginsville Thunderbolt and Battle Cry of Freedom, arrived in the city yesterday. He is stopping at the Van Buren House.

We observe that our contemporary of the Mud Springs Morning Howl has fallen into the error of supposing that the election of Van Werter is not an established fact, but he will have discovered his mistake before this reminder reaches him, no doubt. He was doubtless misled by incomplete election returns.

It is pleasant to note that the city of Blathersville is endeavoring to contract with some New York gentlemen to pave its well-nigh impassable streets with the Nicholson pavement. The Daily Hurrah urges the measure with ability, and seems confident of ultimate success.


I passed my manuscript over to the chief editor for acceptance, alteration, or destruction. He glanced at it and his face clouded. He ran his eye down the pages, and his countenance grew portentous. It was easy to see that something was wrong. Presently he sprang up and said:

"Thunder and lightning! Do you suppose I am going to speak of those cattle that way? Do you suppose my subscribers are going to stand such gruel as that? Give me the pen!"

I never saw a pen scrape and scratch its way so viciously, or plow through another man's verbs and adjectives so relentlessly. While he was in the midst of his work, somebody shot at him through the open window, and marred the symmetry of my ear.

"Ah," said he, "that is that scoundrel Smith, of the Moral Volcano-he was due yesterday." And he snatched a navy revolver from his belt and fired-Smith dropped, shot in the thigh. The shot spoiled Smith's aim, who was just taking a second chance and he crippled a stranger. It was me. Merely a finger shot off.

Then the chief editor went on with his erasure; and interlineations. Just as he finished them a hand grenade came down the stove-pipe, and the explosion shivered the stove into a thousand fragments. However, it did no further damage, except that a vagrant piece knocked a couple of my teeth out.

"That stove is utterly ruined," said the chief editor.

I said I believed it was.

"Well, no matter-don't want it this kind of weather. I know the man that did it. I'll get him. Now, here is the way this stuff ought to be written."

I took the manuscript. It was scarred with erasures and interlineations till its mother wouldn't have known it if it had had one. It now read as follows:

SPIRIT OF THE TENNESSEE PRESS

The inveterate liars of the Semi-Weekly Earthquake are evidently endeavoring to palm off upon a noble and chivalrous people another of their vile and brutal falsehoods with regard to that most glorious conception of the nineteenth century, the Ballyhack railroad. The idea that Buzzardville was to be left off at one side originated in their own fulsome brains–or rather in the settlings which they regard as brains. They had better, swallow this lie if they want to save their abandoned reptile carcasses the cowhiding they so richly deserve.

That ass, Blossom, of the Higginsville Thunderbolt and Battle Cry of Freedom, is down here again sponging at the Van Buren.

We observe that the besotted blackguard of the Mud Springs Morning Howl is giving out, with his usual propensity for lying, that Van Werter is not elected. The heaven-born mission of journalism is to disseminate truth; to eradicate error; to educate, refine, and elevate the tone of public morals and manners, and make all men more gentle, more virtuous, more charitable, and in all ways better, and holier, and happier; and yet this blackhearted scoundrel degrades his great office persistently to the dissemination of falsehood, calumny, vituperation, and vulgarity.

Blathersville wants a Nicholson pavement - it wants a jail and a poorhouse more. The idea of a pavement in a one-horse town composed of two gin-mills, a blacksmith shop, and that mustard-plaster of a newspaper, the Daily Hurrah! The crawling insect, Buckner, who edits the Hurrah, is braying about his business with his customary imbecility, and imagining that he is talking sense.


"Now that is the way to write - eppery and to the point. Mush-and-milk journalism gives me the fan-tods."

About this time a brick came through the window with a splintering crash, and gave me a considerable of a jolt in the back. I moved out of range - I began to feel in the way.

The chief said, "That was the Colonel, likely. I've been expecting him for two days. He will be up now right away."

He was correct. The Colonel appeared in the door a moment afterward with a dragoon revolver in his hand.

He said, "Sir, have I the honor of addressing the poltroon who edits this mangy sheet?"

"You have. Be seated, sir. Be careful of the chair, one of its legs is gone. I believe I have the honor of addressing the putrid liar, Colonel Blatherskite Tecumseh?"

"Right, Sir. I have a little account to settle with you. If you are at leisure we will begin."

"I have an article on the 'Encouraging Progress of Moral and Intellectual Development in America' to finish, but there is no hurry. Begin."

Both pistols rang out their fierce clamor at the same instant. The chief lost a lock of his hair, and the Colonel's bullet ended its career in the fleshy part of my thigh. The Colonel's left shoulder was clipped a little. They fired again. Both missed their men this time, but I got my share, a shot in the arm. At the third fire both gentlemen were wounded slightly, and I had a knuckle chipped. I then said, I believed I would go out and take a walk, as this was a private matter, and I had a delicacy about participating in it further. But both gentlemen begged me to keep my seat, and assured me that I was not in the way.

They then talked about the elections and the crops while they reloaded, and I fell to tying up my wounds. But presently they opened fire again with animation, and every shot took effect–but it is proper to remark that five out of the six fell to my share. The sixth one mortally wounded the Colonel, who remarked, with fine humor, that he would have to say good morning now, as he had business uptown. He then inquired the way to the undertaker's and left.

The chief turned to me and said, "I am expecting company to dinner, and shall have to get ready. It will be a favor to me if you will read proof and attend to the customers."

I winced a little at the idea of attending to the customers, but I was too bewildered by the fusillade that was still ringing in my ears to think of anything to say.

He continued, "Jones will be here at three - cowhide him. Gillespie will call earlier, perhaps - throw him out of the window. Ferguson will be along about four - kill him. That is all for today, I believe. If you have any odd time, you may write a blistering article on the police - give the chief inspector rats. The cowhides are under the table; weapons in the drawer - ammunition there in the corner - lint and bandages up there in the pigeonholes. In case of accident, go to Lancet, the surgeon, downstairs. He advertises - we take it out in trade."

He was gone. I shuddered. At the end of the next three hours I had been through perils so awful that all peace of mind and all cheerfulness were gone from me. Gillespie had called and thrown me out of the window. Jones arrived promptly, and when I got ready to do the cowhiding he took the job off my hands. In an encounter with a stranger, not in the bill of fare, I had lost my scalp. Another stranger, by the name of Thompson, left me a mere wreck and ruin of chaotic rags. And at last, at bay in the corner, and beset by an infuriated mob of editors, blacklegs, politicians, and desperadoes, who raved and swore and flourished their weapons about my head till the air shimmered with glancing flashes of steel, I was in the act of resigning my berth on the paper when the chief arrived, and with him a rabble of charmed and enthusiastic friends. Then ensued a scene of riot and carnage such as no human pen, or steel one either, could describe. People were shot, probed, dismembered, blown up, thrown out of the window. There was a brief tornado of murky blasphemy, with a confused and frantic war-dance glimmering through it, and then all was over. In five minutes there was silence, and the gory chief and I sat alone and surveyed the sanguinary ruin that strewed the floor around us.

He said, "You'll like this place when you get used to it."

I said, "I'll have to get you to excuse me; I think maybe I might write to suit you after a while; as soon as I had had some practice and learned the language I am confident I could. But, to speak the plain truth, that sort of energy of expression has its inconveniences, and a, man is liable to interruption.

"You see that yourself. Vigorous writing is calculated to elevate the public, no doubt, but then I do not like to attract so much attention as it calls forth. I can't write with comfort when I am interrupted so much as I have been to-day. I like this berth well enough, but I don't like to be left here to wait on the customers. The experiences are novel, I grant you, and entertaining, too, after a fashion, but they are not judiciously distributed. A gentleman shoots at you through the window and cripples me; a bombshell comes down the stovepipe for your gratification and sends the stove door down my throat; a friend drops in to swap compliments with you, and freckles me with bullet-holes till my skin won't hold my principles; you go to dinner, and Jones comes with his cowhide, Gillespie throws me out of the window, Thompson tears all my clothes off, and an entire stranger takes my scalp with the easy freedom of an old acquaintance; and in less than five minutes all the blackguards in the country arrive in their war-paint, and proceed to scare the rest of me to death with their tomahawks. Take it altogether, I never had such a spirited time in all my life as I have had to-day. No; I like you, and I like your calm unruffled way of explaining things to the customers, but you see I am not used to it. The Southern heart is too impulsive; Southern hospitality is too lavish with the stranger. The paragraphs which I have written to-day, and into whose cold sentences your masterly hand has infused the fervent spirit of Tennesseean journalism, will wake up another nest of hornets. All that mob of editors will come - and they will come hungry, too, and want somebody for breakfast. I shall have to bid you adieu. I decline to be present at these festivities. I came South for my health, I will go back on the same errand, and suddenly. Tennesseean journalism is too stirring for me."

After which we parted with mutual regret, and I took apartments at the hospital.

-- Posted by OtterVomit on Monday, January 1 2007

HAPPY NEW YEAR



they keep getting worse and worse...