Between the column and the debate, I have been unable to write anything that requires more than 90 seconds of concentration. Quite the evening. So we're picture-heavy, but it's wide-ranging! (coff) (excuse) And there are motels. So don't be giving me that look.

Correction: that wasn’t Barry Manilow singing the Swinger jingle. Sez who? The fellow who wrote “Instant,” the Polaroid book I described the last two days. He emailed me with thanks for the note, and, well, what do you know: he reads the site!

Walked around downtown again today, which I haven’t done much this year. Stopped at an old bookstore on Nicollet Mall, and snapped this:



Well, that was easy: he died two days after Pearl Harbor in Ohio. Maybe. If it's teh same Right Reverend Michael David Leahy.

The Latin Phrase means “He who reads, rules.” A nice sentiment.

Then there’s another plate underneath.




Hmm: Furneaux M A Ex Libri Gulielmi Mordaunt Well, the internet is a magnificent thing. This book, “Visitation of England and Wales, 1906” - yes, 1906 - was digitized and made searchable. Lo:


The very same bookplate!

That’s on a page about the Furneaux lineage, which stretches back to the 16th century, if the first guy lived longer than 26 years. But “Libri Guliemi Mordaunt means the book of Mr. Mordaunt. This book of naval records has a William Mordaunt:


Nescit virtus otiari?

The online Latin translator says “Ignorance, strength, being on vacation.”

That can’t be right.

Anyway. Just a mystery in a book in a box in the back of a dusty store.





This is an interesting piece: the famous Times Square WW2-is-over kiss was an act of sexual assault. The nurse was unwilling. We don't see it because of Rape Culture. There's an interesting rebuttal in the comments. Here's my question: if the Times Square Kiss was bad, is this moment from the opening credits of "The Watchman" okay?



It's the lesbian superheroess kissing a nurse. Same posture. Same limp arm. Isn't that sexual assault as well?

Earlier today I tweeted a picture of my lunch and said it reminded me of a Star Trek episode. Which one?



I should have flipped it. Not a Horta, although I can see how people saw that. One of the replies said I'd invented the Star Trek Rorschach Test.



Are we clear now?


My daughter, for a class assignment, wrote a poem about Charlie Chapin. Difficulty: it had be in animal form. So:

Snarley Catnip
Is a cat like none other.
Wily, black fur and sunglow orbs
smothered with specks of tangerine orange.

Born poor on a Tuesday
At Walworth, East Lane
He’d soon have pay
Of ephemeral fame.

Middle child, he was
Born one of the litter
And soon, he would find,
In September, it was
He’d say bye to the mouser
Who’d once been his kitter.

When aged six, Snarley would learn
Show business was tough – but something he yearned.

The feline worked hard to be good at this hobby
His acting was great, not at all shabby
Even in small films, the critics cried:
“Euphoric! Amazing! How oh so savvy!”

Snarley soon entered the big time films
The Circus, City Lights, he starred in them both
The pictures hued grey, not a word spoke.

A star, he became
Snarely was content to waltz Broadway lane.

Things had gone great, quarrels were rare
Everyone tried to stay out of his hair –
But as they say, there was a bump in the road
The bump was another, a cat that he foed.

M. Purrgar Hoover looked him askance
During the “dark times”, a glance he received
Purrgar wielded a trick up his sleeve.
The FBI did not oversee.

Once Snarley had left England for a premiere of a show
When he tried to fly back, the people said – “NO!”
He had been exiled, for some kind of spell
Snarely turned back, tolerance low.

He needed a place to father his kits
So he and his wife turned to safe Switz.

Snarely Catnip
Was a cat like none other.
Wily black fur and sunglow orbs,
Smothered with specks of tangerine orange.



Motels are up. You’ll notice that the site looks a bit different - or rather, it looks like it used to. I didn’t like the redesign. I liked the old look better. So, at ruinous expense of my time, I’m going back to all the ones already posted, and changing them as well. (It’s not that bad; I just schedule in ten minutes in the morning between the time that we finish breakfast and the time I have to get the daughter out the door for school. Ten minutes that otherwise would be spent on . . . oh, I don’t know. Tagging files I’ll never look at again.)

So there you go. Enjoy! See you around.














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