Probably not this. Requiescat in pace.
But definitely this:
And definitely I’m voting yes on this.
But what about this:
This was like a punch in the gut. I am completely envious of Jerry Gretzinger.
I was going to email everyone this, but I think it’s time we had a good old Lichtenbergian discussion right here.
It’s a brief interview with the Indian mystic known as Osho. Although he seems to have fallen prey to the traditional impulses of cultic leaders in his later years, I think what he says in this interview is brilliant.
Read—attack—defend, in comments.
I think we would do well to discuss this.
This seems real, because to be a postmodern thing would be too much of a good thing.Â Surely there’s something we could do with this.Â Dare I propose an Assignment?
(Conversational Phrases seems most promising, but all of them yielded opaque gems.)
From today’s spam.Â This was from Violetta, and she’s from France.
(My mail server has an excellent spamblock, but every now and thenâ€”after I click on the Reject all as spam buttonâ€”I go and see what the message actually was.)
Subject: I want to find a soul mate
Tender, reliable, well educated,
All of this, about me!
I accept myself so what I am.
I really want to meet a good and kind man.
I don’t need an Ideal Man – I need the one
right for me.
Maybe,this man is you?
Let’s get acquainted online!!
Guess which line I think needs to go on our Aphorisms page?
Anyone else get any good lines recently?
This is from today’s Writer’s Almanac.
Today we celebrate the birthday of dime novelist Ned Buntline (books by this author), born Edward Zane Carroll Judson in Stamford, New York (1813) â€” probably, but not certainly, on this day. As a boy, he got in a fight with his father and ran away to sea. He started out as a cabin boy, but as a teenager he rescued the drowning crew of a boat, and President Van Buren was so impressed that he appointed the young man a midshipman, a low rank of officer. Some of the other officers refused to eat or socialize with him because he had been a regular sailor. In response, he challenged 13 officers to a duel in one day, and seven of them accepted. He wounded four of them and was completely unhurt himself, and after that, everyone accepted him.
After a few years at sea, he decided to take up writing sensational adventure stories. He took his pseudonym, Ned Buntline, from the “buntline” knot that went at the foot of a square sail. He started out writing about gangs and violence in New York â€” he had firsthand knowledge of that world, being involved in gang wars himself.
After years of setting his popular dime novels in the seedy underbelly of New York, he took a trip out West, and realized that it was the ideal setting for the type of stories he wanted to tell. He met Buffalo Bill Cody, and adapted his adventures into wildly popular and exaggerated stories, a series called Buffalo Bill Cody â€” King of the Border Men. It was so successful that he made the stories into a play, Scouts of the Prairie, and he managed to convince the reluctant Buffalo Bill to come play himself in the play. Buffalo Bill and Ned himself were terrible actors, and the critics weren’t impressed â€” the drama critic for the Chicago Times wrote: “On the whole, it is not probable that Chicago will ever look upon the like again. Such a combination of incongruous drama, execrable acting, renowned performers, mixed audience, intolerable stench, scalping, blood and thunder, is not likely to be vouchsafed to a city for a second time â€” even Chicago.” A critic for The New York Herald wrote that Buntline played his part “as badly as is possible for any human being to represent it.” But despite the opinions of the critics, Scouts of the Prairie was a commercial and financial hit, and it toured all over the country. Ned Buntline and Buffalo Bill parted ways after that, but Buntline had made the western hero so famous that he was able to open his own show, “Buffalo Bill’s Wild West,” and Bill’s story had set Buntline on his path to earn more money from his writing than any other author in the country.
Buntline’s life was one big adventure, and he didn’t slow down even after he became wealthy and famous. He fought in the Everglades in the Second Seminole War, and was an officer in the Civil War until he was given a dishonorable discharge for drunkenness. He went around preaching temperance despite his own outrageous drinking habits â€” he interrupted every show of Scouts of the Prairie for a temperance lecture, and he was frequently drunk during those lectures. He was thrashed in public in the streets of New York City by a woman who was the target of gossip in his magazine. He incited several riots. He got in plenty of trouble with women, too â€” he was married seven times, and was jailed for bigamy. At one point he was flirting with a married teenager named Mary Porterfield. Her husband, Robert, challenged Buntline to a duel, which of course he accepted, and he killed Robert Porterfield. The angry townspeople attempted to lynch Buntline, and in fact they strung him up hanged him from an awning post. At the last minute, his friends cut the rope and he managed to survive.
As Ned Buntline lay dying, he wrote a poem, which ends:
“Counting time by ticking clock,
Waiting for the final shock â€”
Waiting for the dark forever â€”
Oh, how slow the moments go,
None but I, me seems, can know
How close the tideless river.”
He died in 1886, by which time he had already sent out several false obituaries, further exaggerating his life and claiming that he had been a colonel in the Civil War. At least three of his wives or ex-wives attempted to claim that they were his official widow.
When you read about a life like this, what is your inner reaction?