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
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Photoverio © (#149): The Hoop Tree

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© Oliverio
Bixby Park







The Hoop Tree
is waiting for
the Picnic People

The children will play
in its Sleep Hole
 

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A Poem About Time

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_______________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________


Time works in mysterious ways
But never loses count
Of minutes, hours, days

We talk of our years
We talk of our fears
We talk in mysterious ways

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________________________________________________________________________________________________
 Footnotes
A POEM ABOUT TIME  is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.

________________________________________________________________________________________________


The 48th Bullet: Youth

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Youth is not required to have
an expiration date 


________________________________________________________________________________________________
 Footnote
THE 48th BULLET  is the copyrighted property of  LCSoL.
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Saturday, November 28, 2015

STREET ART UTOPIA #18: Eye On The Prize

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Artist = Nautil
Siouville-Hague, France

The next Street Art Utopia page is  here. 
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Friday, November 27, 2015

A Worm's Eye View Of History

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© Oliverio
90803












To the human eye,
this is a withered, 
old tree


But to a woodworm,
this is a condo 
complex


And that woodworm could be
descended from an uninvited 
guest aboard Noah's Ark...



Julian Barnes
A History Of The World In 10 1/2 Chapters
[excerpted from Chapter 1: The Stowaway] 





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(7:30 + 9:30) Candles = Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa Gift For Zip 10536

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The gift was from 10022 
[St. Patrick's Cathedral]
Purloined in a blazer pocket


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I Know What Jennifer Is Thinking

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Jennifer is thinking:
What will my next Page look like
or will the Artist insist 
on removing 
this Page? 

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Thursday, November 26, 2015

Please Don't Tell Anyone Where You Read This Story

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THE HANG OF IT
This country lost one of the most promising young men to tilt a pinball table when my son, Harry, was conscripted into the Army. 

As his father, I realize Harry wasn't born yesterday, but every time I look at the boy I'd swear it happened sometime early last week. So offhand I'd say the Army was getting another Bobby Pettit.

Back in 1917, Bobby Pettit wore the same look that Harry wears so well. Pettit was a skinny kid from Crosby, Vermont, which is in the United States too. Some of the boys in the company figured Pettit had spent his tender years letting that Vermont maple syrup drip slowly onto his forehead.

Also one of the dancing girls in that 1917 company was Sergeant Grogan. Us boys in the camp had all kinds of ideas about Sarge's origin; good, sound, censorable ideas that I won't bother to repeat.

Well, on Pettit's first day in ranks the sarge was drilling the platoon in the manual of arms. Pettit had a clever, original way of handling his rifle. When the sarge hollered "Right shoulder arms!" Bobby Pettit did left shoulder arms. When the sarge requested "Port Arms!" Pettit complied with present arms. It was a sure way of attracting the sarge's attention, and he came over to Pettit smiling.

"Well, dumb guy," greeted the sarge.
"What's the matter with you?"
Pettit laughed. 
"I get a little mixed up at times," he explained briefly.
"What's your name, Bud?" asked the sarge.
"Bobby. Bobby Pettit."
"Well, Bobby Pettit," said the sarge. 
"I'll just call ya Bobby. I always call the men by their first names. And they all call me mother. Just like they was at home.
"Oh," said Pettit.

Then it went off. Every fuse has two ends; the one that's lighted and the one's that clubby with the T.N.T.

"Listen Pettit!", boomed the sarge. "I ain't runnin' no fifth grade. You're in the Army, dumb guy. You're supposed t'know ya ain't got two left shoulders and that port arms ain't present arms. Wutsa matter with ya? Ain'tcha got no brains?"
"I'll get the hang of it," Pettit predicted.

The next day we had practice in tent pitching and pack making. When the sarge came around to inspect, it developed that Pettit hadn't bothered to hammer the tent pegs slightly below the surface of the ground. Observing the subtle flaw, the sarge, with one yank of his hand, collapsed entirely Bobby Pettit's little canvas home.

"Pettit," cooed the sarge. "You ar...without a doubt...the dumbest... the stupidest...the clumsiest gink I ever seen. Are ya nuts, Pettit? Wutsa matter with ya? Ain'tcha got no brains?"
Pettit predicted, "I'll get the hang of it."

Then everybody made up full packs. Pettit made up his like a veteran - just like one of the Boys in Blue. Then the sarge came around to inspect. It was his cheery custom to pass in rear of the men, and with a short, bludgeon-like stroke of his forearm slam down on the regulation burden on the back of every mother's son.

He came to Pettit's pack. I'll spare the details. I'll just say that everything came apart save the last five segments in Bobby Pettit's vertebrae. It was a sickening sound. The sarge came around to face Pettit, what was left of him.

"Pettit. I met lotsa dumb guys in my time," related the sarge. 
"Lots of 'em. But you, Pettit, You're in a class by yourself. 
 Because you're the dumbest!"

Pettit stood there on his three feet.
"I'll get the hang of it," he managed to predict.

First day of target practice, six men at a time fired at six targets, prone position exclusively. The sarge passed up and down, examining firing positions.
"Hey, Pettit, Which eye are you lookin' through?"
"I don't know," said Pettit. "The left, I guess."
"Look through the right!" bellowed the sarge. 
"Pettit, you're takin' twenny years offa my life. 
 Wutsa matter with ya? Ain'tcha got no brains?"

That was nothing. When, after the men had fired, the targets were rolled in, there was a gay surprise for all. Pettit had fired all his shots at the target of the man on his right.
The sarge almost had an attack of apoplexy. 
"Pettit," he said,
"You got no place in this man's army. You got six feet. 
 You got six hands. Everybody else only got two!"
"I'll get the hang of it," said Pettit.
"Don't say that to me again. Or I'll kill ya. I'll akchally kill ya,
  Pettit. Because I hatecha, Pettit. You hear me? I hatecha!"
"Gee," said Pettit. "No kidding?"
"No kidding, brother," said the sarge.
"Wait'll I get the hang of it," said Pettit. 
"You'll see. No kidding. Boy, I like the Army. 
  Some day I'll be a colonel or something. No kidding."

Naturally I didn't tell my wife that our son, Harry, reminds me of Bob Pettit back in '17. But he does nevertheless. In fact, the boy is even having sergeant trouble at Fort Iroquois. It seems, according to my wife, that Fort Iroquois nurses to its bosom one of the toughest, meanest first sergeants in the country.  There is no necess-
ity, declares my wife, in being mean to the boys. Not that Harry's complained. He likes the Army, only he can't seem to please this terrible first sergeant. Just because he hasn't got the hang of it yet.
And the colonel of this regiment. He's no help at all, my wife feels. All he does is walk around and look important. A colonel should help the boys, see to it the first sergeants don't take advantage of the boys, destroy their spirit. A colonel, my wife feels, should do more than just walk around the place.

Well, a few Sundays ago the boys at Fort Iroquois put on their first spring parade. My wife and I were there in the reviewing stand, and with a yelp that nearly took my hat she picked out our Harry as he marched along.

"He's out of step," I told my wife.
"Oh, don't be that way," said she.
"But he is out of step," I said.
"I suppose that's a crime. I suppose he'll be shot for that. See he's  in step again. He was only out for a minute."

Then, when the National Anthem was played, and the boys were standing with their rifles at present arms, one of them dropped their rifle. It makes quite a clatter on a hard field.

"That was Harry," I said.
"It could happen to anyone," retorted my wife. 
"Keep quiet."

Then, when the parade was over and the men had been dismissed, First Sergeant Grogan came over to say hello. 

"How do, Mrs. Pettit."
"How do you do," said my wife, very chilly.
"Think there's any hope for our boy, sergeant?" I asked.

The sarge grinned and shook his head. 
"Not a chance," he said. "Not a chance, colonel."


 Colliers, July 12, 1941

  
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
Hall Of Fame basketball player,  Bob Pettit,  was eight years old when this story was written.

The next Salinger page is  here  but don't tell anyone I sent you there.    ________________________________________________________________________________________________


Post-Humous Gratitude From Kurt Vonnegut...Thanksgiving 2015

________________________________________________________________________________________________

The head of The Department of Anthropology 
at [the University of] Chicago...

became the most satisfying teacher in my life. 
He scarcely noticed me. He looked at me 
as though I were a small furry animal 
Kurt Vonnegut
W..F...and G
[p.189]
trapped in an office wastebasket.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
The teacher Vonnegut referred to was  Robert Redfield.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________

  

Self-Portrait With Virgin Mary + Modified Rolling Stones Lyrics

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Yes she really looks quite religious
She's been an outlaw all her life
Me, I'm waiting so patiently
Lying on the floor
I'm just trying to lick this jig-saw puzzle
Before it rains anymore


 Jigsaw Puzzle
(Jagger-Richards) 


Happy Thanksgiving 
to anyone reading this,
especially to the person 
who identifies the painting
featured in today's
Art Daily games  

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Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Exactly Three Years Ago Tomorrow

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The phone rang

Her first words:

How did you get my number?


That number resulted in...

Two million and two words

Twenty four thousand miles by air

Six thousand miles by car

Two thousand and two GodFather pages

One discovery of a resurrected heart
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Another "New Artist" From Art Daily!

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Exhibition of works by Nico Krijno 
on view at the Ravestijn Gallery
Nico Krijno
Sculpture Study with Wooden Blocks
(2015) 

© artdaily.org
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This Is NOT A Song About Surfing

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Surf's Up
 
A diamond necklace played the pawn

Hand in hand some drummed along, oh

To a handsome mannered baton

A blind class aristocracy

Back through the opera glass you see

The pit and the pendulum drawn

Columnated ruins domino

 

Canvass the town and brush the backdrop

Are you sleeping?

 

Hung velvet overtaken me

Dim chandelier awaken me

To a song dissolved in the dawn

The music hall a costly bow

The music all is lost for now

To a muted trumpeter swan

Columnated ruins domino

 

Canvass the town and brush the backdrop

Are you sleeping, Brother John?

 

Dove nested towers the hour was

Strike the street quicksilver moon

Carriage across the fog

Two-Step to lamp lights cellar tune

The laughs come hard in Auld Lang Syne

The glass was raised, the fired-roast


The fullness of the wine, the dim last toasting

While at port adieu or die

 

A choke of grief heart hardened I

Beyond belief a broken man too tough to cry

Surf's Up 
Aboard a tidal wave 
Come about hard and join...
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Parabolas: Two More Roland Topor Images

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Roland Topor
(1938-1997)

His next page is  here.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Photoverio © (#148): Beyond What You See

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© Oliverio
Beyond The Sea
________________________________________________________________________________________________


A Poem For Scott And Zelda

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Zelda Fitzgerald,  sitting on a typo:
F.S. FRITZGERALD


THE STEAMER TRUNKS


They found a place to hide 

They found a place to decide


The agony of austerity
    
The limits of insanity
      
The pulpit of posterity





________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
THE STEAMER TRUNKS–for  Scott and Zelda  Fitzgerald–is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.

A poet who profoundly inspired Scot Fitzgerald is featured  here. 
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Sunday, November 22, 2015

Describing The Protaganist Of A Jean-Paul Sartre Novel

________________________________________________________________________________________________

but not likable…If you look at his eyes, you can see 
he knows too much. He’s the sort of fellow 
who can’t enjoy anything in a simple way, 
either eating, or drinking or sleeping with women. 

He has to think about everything. 
It’s like that voice of his: 
the cutting voice of a gentleman 
who is never wrong–I know it goes with the job 
of having to explain things to small boys. 
I had a teacher who talked like him 
but I’m not at school anymore 
and I find it tiresome.”
     
  The protagonist is Mathieu Delarue who teaches philosophy 
at a public school. The description is given by Lola, 
a cabaret dancer.  She is the only character 
in The Age of Reason older than Mathieu. 
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Saturday, November 21, 2015

The Existential Inspiration For Brian Wilson And The Beach Boys

________________________________________________________________________________________________


In My Room
 Originally recorded in 1963.

Jean-Paul Sartre
Age Of Reason
Originally published in 1945

The next page related to this novel is  here.
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Friday, November 20, 2015

....If You Were A Ten Year-Old Girl Who Could Write Like This....

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This...being a Birthday Letter to your Father
who happened to be a Math Professor...

And your Dad had an "employee"
with a dodgy name (Dodgson)
and an uncanny ability to create

Then you would be none other than
the  Original ALICE  and the "employee"
would be none other than the man who became


THE HYPERNOOSE AND THE HYPERLINK

One is related to the square of the legs
The other informs you about j-pegs

–And its translation into plain text– 
           
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
The caption is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.

Alice Pleasance Liddell  was born on May 4, 1852.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Thursday, November 19, 2015

Eric Sevareid Rode Sidecar With Walter Cronkite

________________________________________________________________________________________________




Eric Sevareid
(1912-1992)

Other Sevareid quotes are  here.
but his most profound quote is  there. 

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Photoverio © (#147): A Spaghetti Tree With Cream Sauce

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© Oliverio
Just one thought:
Where are the meatballs?
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Poem By Robert Desnos (Re-formatted)

________________________________________________________________________________________________


The flower of the Alps told the seashell:
"You're shining"

The seashell told the sea:
"You echo"

The sea told the boat:
"You're shuddering"

The boat told the fire:
"You're glowing brightly"

The fire told me:
"I glow less brightly than her eyes"

The boat told me:
"I shudder less than your heart does
when she appears"

The sea told me:
"I echo less than her name does in your love-making"

The seashell told me:
"I shine less brightly than the phosphorus
of desire in your hollow dream"

The flower of the Alps told me:
"She's beautiful"

I said:
"She's beautiful, so beautiful, she moves me."
(1900-1945)
The dedicatee of this poem
knows who she is!
________________________________________________________________________________________________


IQ And Its Doppelganger

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Our new IQ–Information Quotient–is at an all-time high,
thanks to Google, Wiki, and all things Apple.
 

© Oliverio
The old IQ–Intelligence Quotient–
is at an all-time low because...       

Intelligence = Information + Wisdom

Why bother with wisdom when we can 

instantly twitter what is on our mind?
 
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Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Baseball Haiku From A Friend Of Allen Ginsberg's Father

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at a produce stand
a kid  with a baseball
plays catch with the awning
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She Said...He Said...(Guest Author #1)

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Jean Paul Sartre
(1945)
The Age of Reason



 "Do you think I can get a job 
  as a saleswoman in a big 
  department store?"

"You can't be serious...
  it's a killing life."

"Or as a mannequin?"

"You're rather short, 
  but we might try."
        
    


________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
The next page related to this novel is  here. 
________________________________________________________________________________________________


The GCD Of Larry Doby And Allen Ginsberg

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Hall of Famer, Larry Doby,
was the first African-American
baseball player to win 
a World Series ring.

His team, the Cleveland Indians,
won the 1948 World Series.

The New York Yankees had won
the five previous World Series,
defeating Jackie Robinson's
Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947
(and also in 1949).






Allen Ginsberg  was a poet 
and political activist who helped
define the Beat Generation 
and the counter-culture 
of the Sixties.

Both Mr. Doby and Mr. Ginsberg
attended  East Side High School
in Paterson, New Jersey.

GCD stands for 
Greatest Common
Denominator.    
________________________________________________________________________________________________


The 47th Bullet: The Thing

________________________________________________________________________________________________


It is a good thing to say the right thing
but if you say it at the wrong time
–or say it the wrong way–
you'd be better off saying nothing.   

________________________________________________________________________________________________
 Footnote
THE 47th BULLET  is the copyrighted property of  LCSoL.
 ________________________________________________________________________________________________


Not My Words But I Agree With Every One Of Them

________________________________________________________________________________________________




"You know why all the history books are written by men?" 
Nurse DiDi Ortley asks, as the third
and final season of  Getting On begins. 
"Because women were too busy getting all of the work done." 

Who does the work, and who simply takes credit for it, is a tension
at the heart of HBO’s smart workplace comedy, 
where doctors, nurses,  and administrators 
all jockey for position in a hospital
extended care unit where the only 
contented people seem to be
the contented dead.

 
Based on a British series with the same name, the American version of Getting On retains its predecessor’s bleak premise but roots itself firmly in America’s demented health care system. It is  one of the smallest shows  on HBO, both in size (each season consists of just six 30-minute episodes) and in popular reception (it has stayed stubbornly under the radar). Despite a well-deserved Emmy nomination for Niecy Nash, who plays DiDi, Getting On is the sort of show you stumble on while browsing HBO Go and then wonder why you’ve never heard of it before.

Casey Newton 
The Verge
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Saturday, November 14, 2015

Please Do Not Hate Us

________________________________________________________________________________________________

But we are on hiatus
© Oliverio
We'll be back on track real soon! 
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Con Vive Brio No Mas = An Acrostic For Keyboard Alphabetics

 _______________________________________________________________________________________________


© Oliverio
...Laptop Zinc Xylyphonics...
Quietly
While   

Everyone
Relaxed...
There’s
Your
Uncle
Isadore:
Outside
Playing…
And
Singing
Delicious,
Funky,
Groovy
Harmonics:
Jazzy
Keyboard

Laptop-
Zinc-
Xylophone 
Con 
QWERTYUIOP
ASDFGHJKL
ZXCVBNM
Vive
 Brio
 N
 Mas

 _______________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
CON VIVE BRIO NO MAS is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.
 _______________________________________________________________________________________________


Wherever...

________________________________________________________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________

Wherever there is a church
Wherever there is a steeple

There is pure beauty

Except when full of people

______________________________________________

_______________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________________________________
Footnote
WHEREVER... is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


This Is The Recipe For A Moonlight Cocktail

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Couple of jiggers of moonlight and add a star,
Pour in the blue of a June night and one guitar,
Mix in a couple of dreamers and there you are:
Lovers hail the Moonlight Cocktail.

Now add a couple of flowers, a drop of dew,
Stir for a couple of hours 'til dreams come true.
Add to the number of kisses, it's up to you.
Moonlight Cocktail–need a few.

Cool it in the summer breeze
Serve it in the starlight underneath the trees.
You'll discover tricks like these
Are sure to make your Moonlight Cocktail please.


To be served, when deserved
________________________________________________________________________________________________


Republicans' Demands For Upcoming Debates

________________________________________________________________________________________________

                                                                   

 WE DEMAND...






 •    All moderators to be quarantined from society 
18 months prior to debate to eliminate bias
.
     
•    Statute of limitations prohibiting questioning 
candidate  about any statements made 
more than 60 seconds in the past
.
   
•    Mechanized, continuously rotating debate stage 
gives every candidate equal time at center podium
.
   
•    No questions from, for, or about women
.
   
•    At least one tray of pigs in a blanket 
during pre-debate luncheon
.
   
•    All questions must be prefaced with personalized 
compliment about candidate’s policies or appearance.

   
•    One consequence-free tirade against any 
marginalized group of each candidate’s choosing
.
   
•    Rule stating that any participant thrown off stage 
by another candidate automatically disqualified 
from presidential campaign
.
   
•    Safe podium space for all candidates made 
uncomfortable by line of questioning
.
   
•    Multiple-choice section
.
   
•    Each candidate given five paper DebateBucks 
they can use at any time to buy new questions 
from moderator.

   
•    When a candidate A causes the debate ball to go 
out of play, candidate B will start at the top 
of the key and check the ball 
before resuming play

   
•    Every candidate allowed to deliver five minutes 
of closing personal attacks

Onion News
Non-italic text is verbatim

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Photoverio © (#146): Stem And Whisker w/ OPEN Leaf

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© Oliverio
Each point plotted is empowered with  peripheral dust.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


The 46th Bullet: Hollywoodn't

________________________________________________________________________________________________

An actor who is not also
a fluent liar will be a guest star
on an unemployment line.   

________________________________________________________________________________________________
 Footnotes
THE 46th BULLET  is the copyrighted property of  LCSoL.

This quote was inspired by an extraordinary actress
who will never be out of work despite the fact  that
 Lisa Kudrow  portrayed the  world's worst therapist!
________________________________________________________________________________________________


The Medium Is The Tedium (Comic Relief #745)

________________________________________________________________________________________________


Bruce Eric Kaplan





But I did not have one single tedious thought
while driving through the North Texas Flatlands!

I did not have a single thought of any kind.

There was no stopping anywhere
until the gas tank or bladder
demanded otherwise!
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