It began as the GODFATHER OF MATH, evolved into the GOODFATHER OF MATH. Now this. Go figure...


______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The kind of humor I like is the thing that makes me laugh for five seconds and think for ten minutes = G. CARLIN...Stain glass, engraved glass, frosted glass
–give me plain glass = JOHN FOWLES...Music is the mathematics of the gods = PYTHAGORAS... Nothing is more fluid than language = R. L. SWIHART
I cannot live without the oxygen of laughter = DAWN POWELL + + + But please be sure to season that with the hydrogen of gravitas = PAUL OLIVERIO
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Saturday, February 28, 2015

With Apologies To Art Daily And Yasuyoshi Chiba

________________________________________________________________________________________________


The Selfie Society of Snapton, Colorado is on their annual pilgrimage
to the statue of Christ The Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro


Best Photos of the Day
© artdaily.org
AFP PHOTO/  Yasuyoshi Chiba
Caption/ Mr. CarPeo
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Quoting Franz Kafka

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Franz Kafka
(1883-1924)

The next Kafka page is  here.

Believing in progress 
does not mean 
believing that 
any progress 
has yet been 
 made.



________________________________________________________________________________________________


This Is Neither Barishnakov Nor The Beer Hall In 1923

________________________________________________________________________________________________

He made his debut as a thin, neat unknown, in the famous Munich salon 
of Frau Katherine Heine Hanfstaengl, whose mother was a Sedgwick of New York
Magnus Zeller
1920
The Orator

The quote  above the image was written in 1936.

With regards to who HE is, unfortunately,
that is not anybody's guess!

With regards to Magnus Zeller depicting 
The Orator  in 1920, 
the answer may be  here.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Friday, February 27, 2015

The Baltimorean Bronze Pyramidal Mannequin

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Baltimore Museum of Art  acquires  'Delusions of Grandeur' by  René Magritte

© artdaily.org

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Thursday, February 26, 2015

Boxing Lessons (Comic Relief #184)

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Sam Gross
New Yorker
May 8, 2006 





googolplex
of graffiti

Can be nifty
and neaty













________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
Bronx-born Sam Gross has drawn 27, 592 cartoons. 

This is his most famous cartoon:
Originally appeared in
National Lampoon
(December, 1970)

The next New Yorker page is  here.   


 




It behooves
the CarPeos
to recommend
this interview
with "S. Gross."
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Drove My Chevy Up To Christies And The Love Wasn't Dry...

________________________________________________________________________________________________       
Good Ole Boys Gaveled Up To The Sky

This Will Be The Day I Won't Cry  


Bye Bye Miss American Pie
© Don McLean




Don McLean's

Original

Handwritten

Lyrics

Auctioned

At Christies







Auction Date =  April 7, 2015




________________________________________________________________________________________________


Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Manny's Mannequins + Mike's Mannequin Story

________________________________________________________________________________________________


All black & white mannequins photographed by  Man Ray


In the summer of 1969, Mike and Mack were
brand spanking new baccalaureates.

Both boys had just graduated
from Hunter College in Manhattan.

Both boys had AVN Degrees.

AVN stood for Avoiding Viet Nam.
   
Instantly, they found jobs with Package Expresso.

Mack was the "trucker." Mike was the "truckee."

They delivered valuable "packages"
all over Manhattan.

Salamis imported from Italy were delivered
to Park Avenue penthouses.

Bamboo furniture from Brazil was destined
for a Sutton Place townhouse formerly owned
by the Vanderbilt family.

Many mannequins from God knows where 
were dropped off at the loading platform
of Saks Fifth Avenue.

For a most efficient delivery, an extra
mannequin leg was given to
Mack & Mike as a gratuity.     

That day, the college grads were so efficient,
their work day ended at 2pm.

Their "truck," a 1968 Ford Econoline Van,
was returned to Mr. Expresso in his garage
on 10th Avenue & 58th St.

Mack wanted nothing to do
with the mannequin leg.

Mike insisted on taking it home
to his invalid aunt.

They rode the subway home
but it was not rush hour.

There were just enough people
in the 57th Street subway station
to be amused, confused, or just
plain shocked by the prosthetic leg
carried by Mike, to the the chagrin of Mack.


But not enough people for anyone to lose
their temper or balance.

All seats were taken but there was
no sardining bodies crammed into
the lead car of the Brooklyn-bound
BMT subway.

No one said a word to Mike
or his mannequin until they boarded the lead car.

A replacement conductor pointed to the leg
and said, "I used to date her sister."

The conductor who exited the control booth
of the train, also pointed to the leg.

He said "Oh no, not her again!"    

  
He exited the train before it left the station,
which the BMT subway would not do
for five minutes.

Mack & Mike stood as close as possible.
to the conductor's booth.

A young lady, seated and reading a Russian novel,
chuckled audibly in response to the two comments.

Mack held onto a overhead strap for support
despite the fact that the train was not yet in motion.

With his other hand, he held a book into which
his nose was buried.

Coincidentally, the book was  Crime & Punishment.
The trucker wanted nothing to do with the truckee. 

Mike used the life-size mannequin leg as if it
were a walking stick, triangulating for support
on a stationary vehicle.

He was inspired to impersonate  Peter Lorre
from the film version of the Doestoevski novel.

My name is Raskolnikov
I am smart but I am poor
My college degree I do deplore

A girl I did adore
Was thrown a penny on the floor
By the pawnborker I utterly abhor

My mind was of a dichotomy
For how that old lady got to me


Either I have a lobotomy
Or a serious crime be commit by me!

Mike had a target audience of one,
which was not his fellow baccalaureate.

It was the girl who had visibly chuckled.

Unfortunately, her reaction to
the Peter Lorre impression
led to a yellow stream
descending from
between her legs.

She ran off the train in
a fit of crazed laughter.


To Be Continued  if and only if Man Ray requests we do so.


________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
All black & white mannequins are the copyrighted property of   the Man Ray Estate.

MIKE'S MANNEQUIN STORY is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.

© Oliverio
Friendship Beach, Rocky Point
(1975) 

A much larger version of this
not exactly B&W mannequin
is  featured in the
WALL-2-WALL
photo gallery.

It is presented here
to provide a perspective
of the New York City subway system.

This page may or may not be regarded
as another  deferential equation.








________________________________________________________________________________________________



Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Photoverio © (#67): It's About Time

________________________________________________________________________________________________


© Oliverio 
15K15
 

Time is always in the room
Time is always a perfume

Framed regular or irregular
Aimed jugular or jocular

Mount it dark or bright
Count it day or night

Give it a go or give it a pass
Give some time to sculpted glass

Scratched here and smooth there
Flasked where with smooth air?

Tick is yin and tock is yang
Theories begin with  Big Bang

Theories are what we all got
Some hot, some cool, some not

Time is always in the room
What is your perfume?



________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
IT'S ABOUT TIME is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.

The soundtrack is from  Jim Croce.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Paul Cezanne's Backside Discovery In Pennsylvania

________________________________________________________________________________________________

During a recent paper conservation treatment, the Barnes Foundation 
discovered two unfinished sketches—one graphite and one watercolor— 


Paul Cézanne  (French, 1839–1906)
Recto: The Chaîne de l'Etoile Mountains 1885–1886. 
Watercolor and graphite on wove paper; Verso: Unfinished Landscape, undated. 
Watercolor and graphite on wove paper, Sheet: 12 3/8 x 19 1/8 in.
BF650. Photos © 2015  The Barnes Foundation


© artdaily.org
Italic text is verbatim  
The Barnes Foundation, in  Philadelphia, exhibits
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Paul Cézanne (French, 1839–1906). Recto: The Chaîne de l'Etoile Mountains (La Chaîne de l'Etoile avec le Pilon du Roi), 1885–1886. Watercolor and graphite on wove paper; Verso: Unfinished Landscape, undated. Watercolor and graphite on wove paper, Sheet: 12 3/8 x 19 1/8 in. (31.4 x 48.6 cm). BF650. Photo © 2015 The Barnes Foundation.

More Information: http://artdaily.com/news/76687/The-Barnes-Foundation-discovers-two-sketches-by-Paul-C-zanne-behind-watercolors#.VOxcQMZU_sk[/url]
Copyright © artdaily.org

Monday, February 23, 2015

We Love Eustace Tilley More Than Google Doodle Does!

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Premier Issue of  The New Yorker
Cover designed and illustrated
by  Rea Irvin
 
The  Bro-born brain trust
of the GoFather of Math
are Mr. & Mrs. CarPeo.

Mrs. C was born in Brooklyn.
Mr. C was born in  the Bronx.

For the past six months, we
had desultory discussion
about a very special
90th Birthday.

Desultory means I did
most of the talking and
Carol did most of the listening.

This image of  Eustace Tilley  was introduced
to the world on February 21, 1925.

If there is a more frequently duplicated/parodied
magazine cover image anywhere in this world,
please let us know.

What meTilley?

This re-imagined image
features  Alfred E. Neuman.

He just happened to be
one of my most important
educators but this page
is not about me.

This page is ultimately about
the GoFather of Math's guilt
for having posted absolutely
nothing on February 21, 2015.

But where there is guilt there is a need to assuage one's conscience.

Assuage one's conscience means finding someone or something
to point fingers at in a time of stress.

I am eternally grateful to the Google Doodle do-gooders for
equally ignoring that very special 90th Birthday.

Their image for that day featured sheep.

The 21st of February is the first day
of the  Year of the sheep (or ram) or (goat)  
 











It just so happens that China which has a population of 1.357 billion people
and a Gross National Product of 9.24 trillion dollars
is celebrating a New Year.

The CarPeos sincerely wish the Chinese people happiness and peace
and a most negligible amount of political repression.

But if 1.357 billion people read The New Yorker,
his would be a better world.

The CN on Eustace Tilley's lapel is a  worthwhile watermark.

The next New Yorker page is  here.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Sunday, February 22, 2015

Photoverio © (#66): Through The Glass Blocking

________________________________________________________________________________________________

© Oliverio
Catless Catwalk
(2008) 


you cannot see her
you cannot see him
they are only there
when he needs to swim

which is only on days
that  end in y

he swims on his back
with eye to the sky

at the end of each lap
she dances the rhumba

she is his
imaginary
numba





________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
THROUGH THE GLASS BLOCKING is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Friday, February 20, 2015

Photoverio © (#65): Eggzactly!

________________________________________________________________________________________________


© Oliverio
Saturday with R & S



People walk
People run
People eat eggs


Eggs can walk
Eggs can run

Sometimes,
They just lie in the sun







________________________________________________________________________________________________


There Are These And There Are Those

________________________________________________________________________________________________

There are people who proudly proclaim that they think "outside the box"
when, in truth, they are merely thinking inside of a slightly larger box.

And there are those select few whose thinking is so far out
that even the larger box appears to be no bigger than a dot.

But we all must be grateful for the Obedient Majority
whose thinking is done entirely within the box.

Cartoon/Caption : © Leo Cullum
Text: © Paul Oliverio
Moderator: Mrs. CarPeo


 



________________________________________________________________________________________________


Photoverio © (#64): A Genuine Rock Hero

________________________________________________________________________________________________


© Oliverio
Above & Below




Horsehead McJetty has absorbed
49,178 footsteps of fisherman
who jettison their bait & tackle
in his community.

Horsehead has felt 4,444 furry paws
of cats who live within its catacomb.

Our genuine rock hero
has stonily survived
more than sixty years
of oceanic turbulence.




But calm is more often
the order of the day.


Horsehead McJetty lives here.



He is Boulder #649
of the Long Beach Jetty.


Photoverio #65 is  here.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Attention: Academy Award Voters

________________________________________________________________________________________________




One of the nominees for 2014

BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE  is













If the film did
nothing more
than exhibit
her photographs...

...than  FINDING VIVIAN MAIER
would have been an interesting,
aesthetically satisfying film
but certainly unworthy
of an award.


However, that is not the case.

Not by a long shot.


What makes it obvious
that this documentary
is about more than a
large collection of
stunning photos
is the first word
of the title:

FINDING Vivian Maier


The photographer not only
never exhibited her work
but absolutely no one
was aware that she
had taken any
photographs
worthy of
exhibit.

Vivian Maier's story is mostly told
by a dozen people for whom
she worked as a nanny
for their children
or the children
who are now
full-grown
adults.

Ms. Maier  was an attic-dwelling
governess for numerous families
in Chicago.

She insisted on having
numerous locks on
her door.

She was known as
nothing more than a nanny!

The co-star of this documentary
is a young man named
John Maloof  who
bought a bunch
of boxes.


I will not say anything more
than that about John
but were it not
for the stuff
in those
boxes...


You would be looking at nothing
but blank space on this page.


The next Vivian Maier page is  here.



If the next paragraph does not
apply to you, read no more
than that.


For those of you who appreciate
both reincarnation AND
serious literature...


In a former life,
John Maloof was  Max Brod
and Vivian Maier was
an  office clerk
named  Franz.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Tuesday, February 17, 2015

LEWIS CARROLL's Hunting of The Snark: "Part 1"

________________________________________________________________________________________________

The author of ALICE IN WONDERLAND was no one-trick pony.
As cherished as Alice is, Lewis Carroll still had enough left
in the tank of his math-induced imagination to write
a most outrageous story about a sea-faring
group of dubious denizens in pursuit 
of a mythical creature.

To call HUNTING OF THE SNARK
a "nonsense poem" seriously 
misses the point. 

It is a complete story–
in rhythmic verse–
where absurdity
is the order
of the day. 



FIT THE FIRST     The Landing

“Just the place for a Snark!” the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.

“Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:

That alone should encourage the crew.

Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:

What i tell you three times is true.”

The crew was complete: it included a Boots--

A maker of Bonnets and Hoods--

A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes--

And a Broker, to value their goods.

A Billiard-maker, whose skill was immense,

Might perhaps have won more than his share--

But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,

Had the whole of their cash in his care.

There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,

Or would sit making lace in the bow:

And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,

Though none of the sailors knew how.

There was one who was famed for the number of things

He forgot when he entered the ship:

His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,

And the clothes he had bought for the trip.

He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,

With his name painted clearly on each:

But, since he omitted to mention the fact,

They were all left behind on the beach.

The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because

He had seven coats on when he came,

With three pairs of boots--but the worst of it was,

He had wholly forgotten his name.

He would answer to “Hi!” or to any loud cry,

Such as “Fry me!” or “Fritter my wig!”

To “What-you-may-call-um!” or “What-was-his-name!”

But especially “Thing-um-a-jig!”

While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,

He had different names from these:

His intimate friends called him “Candle-ends,”

And his enemies “Toasted-cheese.”

“His form in ungainly--his intellect small--”

(So the Bellman would often remark)

“But his courage is perfect! And that, after all,

Is the thing that one needs with a Snark.”

He would joke with hyenas, returning their stare

With an impudent wag of the head:

And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a bear,

“Just to keep up its spirits,” he said.

He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late--

And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad--

He could only bake Bridecake--for which, I may state,

No materials were to be had.

The last of the crew needs especial remark,

Though he looked an incredible dunce:

He had just one idea--but, that one being “Snark,”

The good Bellman engaged him at once.

He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared,

When the ship had been sailing a week,

He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked scared,

And was almost too frightened to speak:

But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,

There was only one Beaver on board;

And that was a tame one he had of his own,

Whose death would be deeply deplored.

The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark,

Protested, with tears in its eyes,

That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark

Could atone for that dismal surprise!

It strongly advised that the Butcher should be

Conveyed in a separate ship:

But the Bellman declared that would never agree

With the plans he had made for the trip:

Navigation was always a difficult art,

Though with only one ship and one bell:

And he feared he must really decline, for his part,

Undertaking another as well.

The Beaver’s best course was, no doubt, to procure

A second-hand dagger-proof coat--

So the Baker advised it-- and next, to insure

Its life in some Office of note:

This the Banker suggested, and offered for hire

(On moderate terms), or for sale,

Two excellent Policies, one Against Fire,

And one Against Damage From Hail.

Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day,

Whenever the Butcher was by,

The Beaver kept loo king the opposite way,

And appeared unaccountably shy.
The poem continues  here.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Photoverio © (#63): TIME AFTER TIME...After An Advert

________________________________________________________________________________________________


© Oliverio
Cycle 2007 

Photoverio #64 is  here.   
Lying in my bed 
I hear the clock tick,
And think of you
Caught up in circles 

Confusion is nothing new
Flashback - warm nights -
Almost left behind
Suitcases of memories,
Time after time


Cyndi Lauper
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Reality is Cheap

________________________________________________________________________________________________

 Paulette Petard is a former classmate at the Lewis Carroll School of Logic.

 Paulette Petard was my lover at the Lewis Carroll School of Logic.

 She was the pillow upon which I would rest my head.

 Sometimes, the pillow was made of mortar.

 Paulette was made of 100% schlangya.

 I had no idea what that meant.

 We will now let her explain:


"Paul, it didn't matter what I studied.

 It didn't matter how hard I partied or how soft.

 What mattered is that I was pure unadulterated schlangya:

 A Persian word for the absence of failure  or  the guarantee of success. 

 Hollywood beckoned but I was not an actress and I definitely did not want to direct."



 Paulette became a producer of television shows. Her nickname was "the checkbook chick."

 A successful TV sitcom or drama would ultimately be worth one million dollars a month

 to cover all the checks the chick had to sign.

 But it would pain her to pay actors more than one million dollars a year to do nothing but

 move in front of a camera and convincingly mouth the words of a scriptwriter who

 made much less than one half of that amount.

 Scripted television shows, regardless of subject matter or type, would never have

 become endangered if actors remained under contract like the film stars of the best decades

 in Hollywood history. The decades resulting in Citizen Kane, Casablanca, Wizard of Oz,

 On The Waterfront...


"Paul, those films were before my time, of course but when contract

  acting met its demise, the producer's profit margin took a nosedive until what we put 

  in front of the camera was not a trained and highly overpaid actor or actress but what
  
  I will call real people.

"That sure is a much nicer name for them than 'cheap labor' 

   which is exactly what they were. People who would stand in front of a camera for 
  
   monkey paychecks instead of gorilla paychecks. The only acting direction we give them 

   is 'the stupider you behave, the more successful we will be.'

"But the concept would have been a big flop if we called it
                                                                                                
  CHEAP TV   therefore we named it in honor of real people. We called it  REALITY TV 

  and the producer's profit margins have gone intergalactic.  They will continue to do so 

  because of a misnomer on a mission. It will always be  known as Reality TV  because 

  there is a pool of fools who will believe whatever we tell them to believe. We can put 

  a pile of manure on their television screen, computer or mobile device and we can make 

  them think of nothing but the white palomino who delivered it. The people you see in

  Reality TV are merely uncaged monkees with lots of make-up but some of them, 

  admittedly, have great tits and ass. Reality TV.  But it pays for my lear jet.

"However, that does not mean the name has never been 

  genuine or authentic. Reality TV began and ended on 9/11. 

  The only day in history to be remembered as a fraction."



"Wow, Paulette, I never heard of September 11th in those terms before."

"Wow, Paul..."

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because when I share what is my innermost thoughts,  I am constantly

  being told by people  I never heard ____ explained that way before."

"If your 'innermost thoughts' are as interesting as how you described the first day

 of World War III, then I can't blame people for saying that. Consider it flattery

 as a side dish when the main course is your verbal bouillabaisse."

"But there was a time in my life when I was always saying variations

 of  I've never heard that before."

"Oh really, when was that?"

"Back in college, when you were my lover, my mentor, and

 my greatest source of frustration."

"Oh, Paulette. I've never heard me explained that way before."

   
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
REALITY IS CHEAP  is the copyrighted property of LCSoL. 
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Monday, February 16, 2015

Photoverio © (#62): When You're Smiling

________________________________________________________________________________________________


© Oliverio
Underleaf
(2015) 
















When you're smiling
When you're smiling
The whole world smiles with you








© Oliverio
Overleaf
(2015) 
 When inverting
When inverting

The whole world thinks you strange

But you're helping
But you're helping

Breathing passage gets a wider range

By inverting
you're not hurting
Anyone

...
......
.........

What you're getting
is a better flow of blood
Respiratory: your body
Will not go thud


National Geographic
(≈2007)


Try it
You'll like it

But your doctor won't

Cuz you won't won't
need him anymore!
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
WHEN INVERTING WHEN INVERTING is the copyrighted property of LCSoL. 
________________________________________________________________________________________________


The Priest and The Chuckster

________________________________________________________________________________________________

From the pulpit, the priest delivered a sermon.

His words were visible throughout the church

His voice carried through every pew

But did not reach my ears

Because Chuck Berry got there before him.


The gospel had something to do with Jesus

At that time...In the temple

There was  too much monkey business

Altar boys started dancing

The girls in communion dresses jumped up and down

The men loosened their ties

The women threw their hats at the stain glass windows

Jesus said "I don't want no botheration!"

 
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
THE PRIEST AND THE CHUCKSTER is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.
________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hate, Jealousy & Flattery...Is Not A Law Firm But...

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hate is nothing more than jealousy standing on a bar stool.
                          That is something you cannot measure with a slide rule.


                          The preacher imparted that definition.
                          He was certain. He was zealous.

                          But what does it mean to be Jealous?

                                               Jealousy is the exhaust from the tailpipe of flattery.

                                                                                                   Without flattery, without praise
                                                                                                   Self-worth goes into a haze
    
                                                                                                   But there are means and there are ways
                                                                   
                                                                                                   The preacher said. His name was Daggs
                                                                                                   Replace the bar stools with seating
                                                                                                   made from bean bags.

 
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
HATE, JEALOUSY & FLATTERY IS NOT A LAW FIRM BUT
is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Presidential Quotes On President's Day

________________________________________________________________________________________________

We must especially beware of that small group of selfish men who would clip
the wings of the American eagle in order to feather their own nests.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt

I don't know much about Americanism, but it's a damn good word
with which to carry an election.
Warren Harding

Few men have virtue enough to withstand the highest bidder.
George Washington

Power naturally grows. Why? Because human passions are insatiable.
John Adams

My choice in life was to be a piano-player in a whorehouse or a politician.
And to tell the truth, there's hardly any difference.
Harry Truman

The search for a scapegoat is the easiest of all hunting expeditions.
Dwight D. Eisenhower

No public man can be just a little crooked.
Herbert Hoover

People who have had a hanging in the family don't like to talk about rope.
Calvin Coolidge

If you want to make enemies, try to change something.
Woodrow Wilson

A man who has never gone to school may steal from a frieght car.
But if has a university education, he may steal the whole railroad.   
Theodore Roosevelt

No emotion cools sooner than that of gratitude.
Benjamin Harrison

Party honesty is party expediency.
Grover Cleveland

If it were not for the reporters, I would tell you the truth.
Chester Arthur

I know only two tunes. One of them is Yankee Doodle, and the other isn't.
Ulysses S. Grant

It does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods
or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.
Thomas Jefferson

If I am killed, I die but once, but to live in constant dread of it,
is to die over and over again.
Abraham Lincoln








All of the quotes are from
an earlier edition
of  this book.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


For A New Yorker From A New Yorker

________________________________________________________________________________________________

O California
Sarah Holland Batt

I want to wake in the lagoon of the sky
where sunlight binds the mutilated palm-tree dawn
like duct tape, an aerial shot rolling and rolling
out of town in the muffled trunk of a brown panel van
along the death roads, the desert roads, the hairpin turns,
California, the desert silvering in my eye like a coyote,
I want to swim in the jewel jade pool of your lonesome foothill vowels,
stretch out under the mirroring clouds like a million rooftop deck chairs,
feel that blankness unfurl in my mind like luxury,
California, your beautiful blankness, your sheen.
O, shake me a basil gimlet at Silver Lake
and tell me about your tattoos, hermana,
how death is that bad tooth wobbling in my head,
in my head, California, that skyline that breaks
into backdrop hills I know like nostalgia,
pink saguaro and sumac, the ripe berries
smashed like bodies,  each ragged cactus cross
hoisting up against a silver desert screen,
California, and night that goes on like a drive-in,
palms exploding like napalm, fireworking over everything.
I want to ride the long smooth tan body of California,
I want to eat the bear of the flag of California,
I want to roll like a corpse off the highway
of your chase scenes, I want my perfect teeth
preserved, California, my teeth buried in the earth
like a curse, California, and won’t you show me
where the bodies are kept, California,
won’t you show me, show me, show me.

The poem appears in  this issue

The next New Yorker page is  here. 


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Photoverio © (#61): Why Beatles Covered Cookies

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© Oliverio
(2005)

 
Chains
my baby's got me
locked up in chains

And they're not the kind
that you can see

It's chains of love
got a hold on me

Goffin-King












     In 1963,  the Beatles  recorded
     a song sung by  the Cookies,
     who recorded it in 1962.


 
    The next Beatles' page is  here.


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Sunday, February 15, 2015

Happy Birthday #94

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Designed by Mrs. CarPeo for  Mr. CarPeo's Mother
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Dawn Powell's Wikipedia Page: When Yin Spawns Yang

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I know I have the name of a failed stripper but sometimes I use it to my advantage.   
Dawn Powell










From Wikipedia: 

Dawn Powell was born in Mount Gilead, Ohio, a village 45 miles north of Columbus and the county seat of Morrow County...After her mother died when Powell was seven, she lived with a series of relatives around the state. Her father re-married, but his second wife was harsh and abusive toward the children. When her stepmother destroyed her notebooks and diaries, she ran away...


Had that evil stepmother not inspired Dawn to run away,  Ms. Powell's vast literary output  would have been neutered. Ms. Powell might have had the same literary significance as Danielle Steele.


There is unspoken gratitude for that evil stepmother.

Without her diabolical parenting, NONE of the following statements
would have been true about Ms. Powell:

Ernest Hemingway called Dawn Powell his  "favorite living writer."

She is wittier than Dorothy Parker, dissects the rich better than F. Scott Fitzgerald.
New York Times

Dawn Powell can save your life.
Salon.com

Dawn Powell is  the literary Godmother of Gore Vidal  who was one of the most
visible intellectuals and novelists of the 20th Century.

Gore Vidal wrote a literary life-saving essay entitled  Dawn Powell: The American Writer.

After running away from home,  Dawn Powell's diaries  –in her own handwriting–
exist in forty-volumes covering the years 1915-1965. They are currently

I have written forty-eight pages about Dawn Powell.
The GoodFather of Math

But the next Dawn Powell is  here.
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Saturday, February 14, 2015

The Third Deferential Equation

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The theme song for this page is  here. 









This is a New Yorker Magazine.

The cover artist is
Christoph Niemann.

The cover art is available
from  Conde Nast.












If you have an urge to see Impressionist Art
but cannot get to a museum
just keep looking through
a rainy window. 

If you have an urge to get to
the next New Yorker page,
go  here.
 


This is a 2006 Photoverio.

Paul Oliverio entitled the picture
Bagel Stop, New Jersey

It is the copyrighted property
of LCSoL but a print
is available from
this web site.


The deferential equation
is defined  here.

The next one is  there.  
  
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86 Years Ago Today: When Saint Massacre Had A Middle Name

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Saint VALENTINE'S DAY Massacre

The video is worth wading through
the advertisement

Valentine's Day  is truly dedicated
to the heart but the biological purpose
of the human heart is to keep
the blood flowing,
as opposed to
spilling.


Thanks to  Alphonse Capone & Prohibition,
that is what happened in Chicago on
February 14, 1929

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